Swipe

elegant—it sounds deadly. That whole street must be seething with degenerates and crackpots.”
    “The people there are desperate, yes. You’d have to be crazy to visit.”
    But at the sound of the unfolding plan, Erin got a look in her eyes that was precisely that.
    “What are you doing after school today?” Logan asked.
    “I dunno.” Erin shrugged, but she couldn’t help smiling just a little, playfully. “I could be free.”
    3
    At the Fulmart, Blake sat with Tyler and Eddie while they opened condensed soup from the store shelves and drank straight from the cans.
    “Good thing this stuff doesn’t go bad,” Tyler said. It looked about ten years out of date, which is precisely what it was.
    The three of them couldn’t talk about the night before. Only the Dust actually slept in Fulmart, but at mealtimes, Markless from all over Slog Row came to scrounge for food.
    The store was maintained by an elderly couple known as Mama and Papa Hayes, who took it upon themselves to watch over the place when it went belly up, seeing it for the lifeline to the Row that it really was.
    It was all sorts of illegal, of course, for a Markless couple to appoint themselves “managers” of a bankrupt store and continue running it as a black market for other Markless. But it wasn’t more illegal, necessarily, than many of the other things happening on Slog Row, and, as with the rest of it, the Spokie authorities recognized the value of an insular system that kept the bums away from the rest of town.
    So this afternoon, as with every afternoon, families rummaged the shelves, taking what they needed under the watchful eyes of the Hayeses, but never taking more than enough. Mama and Papa made sure everyone knew the limits of the supply, and the punishment for greed was banishment, with the help of a seriously illegal shotgun.
    Today, a small boy covered in dirt and tattered clothes sat silently next to Blake and Tyler and Eddie as they ate their lunch. He might have been five or six years old, and he visited them often during mealtimes, eating some small portion of something and listening to the boys’ banter. He seemed to enjoy their company, though he’d never once uttered a sound. Blake had long since given up on learning the boy’s name, so he and the others just called the kid Rusty. Under the filth, Rusty had bright, messy red hair. Blake guessed that if he hadn’t been so dirty, he might have had freckles too.
    Today the boy ate a bag of chips. He licked his fingers for the salt.
    “Any good?” Eddie asked.
    Rusty nodded. Tyler and Eddie stayed on better behavior when he was around. Maybe they liked the company too.
    “I like that flavor,” Tyler joked. “Don’t eat all of it, okay?”
    Rusty smiled and guarded the bag closely.
    “Do you have a mom or a dad?” Eddie asked for what was probably the fifteenth time since they’d met the boy. “Anyone who takes care of you?”
    Rusty didn’t nod or shake his head. Blake wasn’t sure the kid fully understood the question. “Let it go,” Blake said. “It doesn’t matter.”
    Around them, couples strolled the aisles, pretending for a few minutes out of the day to live normal lives. They read the labels on packages, compared ingredient lists and nutritional information. Blake knew it was a pretense. The only food left in the store was junk. And everyone holding the boxes was frail and starving.
    “Afternoon, Mama Hayes,” Blake said. “Papa Hayes.” A little less than a year ago, Mama and Papa Hayes started finding the kids of the Dust hiding out in their store during the Hayeses’ nightly sweep of the place. The first dozen times, of course, they kicked the group out without discussion. But somewhere along the line, the old couple realized these kids weren’t looking to take anything or cause any trouble. They were just looking for a place to sleep that wasn’t quite as cold as the hard winter ground. So the Hayeses made them a deal—if the Dust would watch the store at night and make sure no one came around after hours looking for more than their share, then Blake and his friends could stay.
    “How are you boys this afternoon?” Mama Hayes asked.
    “Just fine, ma’am,” Eddie said. “A little tired, is all.”
    Mama Hayes nodded. “Us too, boys. Us too.”

    After lunch, Blake and the others headed to the “outdoor adventure” section of the store. Between tents set up for display and various skiing and hiking equipment, there was some