The Never List

have no idea what you’re talking about. At least you’re out in the world.”
    “ Out in the world? ” the girl scoffed. “Is that what you think this is? Unless basements and padded rooms and purpose-built cells and—”
    She suddenly shut up, bit her lower lip, and looked away.
    When she turned back to us, her eyes were veiled and dark. Her tough-girl stance disappeared for a split second, and I saw only fear and hurt on her face.
    I didn’t like the images that were suddenly flooding into my head. I didn’t want to know what could have caused the pain I saw in her expression.
    “Why don’t we focus on what we’re going to do here? It doesn’t matter who has suffered more so far. Let’s focus on how to keep us all from suffering going forward .” I turned toward the dronelike faces beside me in the van. “Girls, there are more of us than them.”
    The girl with the pixie cut turned back to me, this time anger glinting in her eyes. She whispered fiercely, her lips twitching.
    “Shut up ! If you try to incite a revolution, they will tell on you in six seconds flat. They are dying to inform. Then they get an entire day off. An entire day without anyone touching them at all. So shut the fuck up.”
    I looked at the girl in disbelief, and then at Tracy, hoping she would take this point to heart. I had never done anything that bad. I wanted her to understand: this is what suffering can do to you. But Tracy’s face was as impassive as a statue’s.
    The girl abruptly stopped talking.
    In the silence, as the van rumbled through the night, I thought about what this girl had told us, and my calm started to evaporate. My heart was pounding so hard, I thought it would beat right out of my body.
    After a few more hours, when the dawn was just breaking, the van made a sharp turn and bumped hard along what must have been a dirt road. The van swayed side to side, creaking noisily until it slowly pulled to a halt. Tracy and I jerked to attention, and Tracy poked the girl’s leg to wake her up. She slowly shook her head to pull herself out of her haze. She looked bewildered at first, but then, recognizing us, she nodded.
    Tracy bent toward her, whispering, “By the way, what’s your name?”
    “Huh?” the girl muttered, seeming confused. I wondered if she’d forgotten it in all this.
    “What’s your name?” Tracy asked again.
    “Oh, yeah, that.” She smiled at us, gaps and all. “No one’s asked me that for a while. My name is Jenny.”
    Jenny. The name gave me a jolt of courage. I looked at Tracy and saw my own determination reflected back in her face. We braced ourselves for the moment the door would open.

CHAPTER 30
    We sat for a long time as the van idled, our seats vibrating slightly beneath us. The engine went dead. The front doors opened and slammed shut. Then it was quiet. Too quiet. Five minutes went by. Ten.
    Our arms taut, we gripped the cold vinyl beneath us, waiting. Someone lifted the exterior handle of the cargo doors once, but nothing happened. Then the driver’s-side door creaked open one maddening inch at a time. It was as if they were taunting us. We sat perfectly still, listening, and then it came. The sudden, dull click of the lock. They were coming for us.
    Jenny whispered, “I don’t know who that is. I know all their tics and rhythms. Must be a new guy.”
    “Good, right?” Tracy said optimistically, though her voice betrayed her fear. “He won’t know the routine. We can take him by surprise.”
    Jenny stood up halfway and made her way over to the doors.We followed, pushing our way past the knees and feet of the girls next to us, who were trying to sleep while they could.
    Then the doors flew open. Instead of leaping forward, ready to push past whatever stood in my way, I froze, rooted to the spot, unable to believe my eyes. A split second later Tracy’s shaking voice came from behind me, “Christine?!?!”
    I could not understand in that moment how it was possible, but there she stood. Christine, in all her Park Avenue glory, dressed in uniform New York City black, perfectly coiffed and shod for a day hike during peak leaf season. She held open the van doors, looking on in horror at the sight of the human cargo filling that van. Then she pulled herself into action.
    “Everybody out! Let’s go,” she whispered loudly but assuredly, like a suburban mom unloading the junior varsity lacrosse team. All of us clambered out of the van, the girls behind us tearing