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“Between pumping it from the ground and going in the tower, the water runs through a filtration system,” Robby said. “It’s out near the Saco River. Other parts are underground, but it’s not like in a city where it runs through some treatment plant. It’s mostly just sand. Water from the mountains and the underground streams is some of the purest in the world. It’s the kind of thing they bottle and sell. It doesn’t have to be cleaned much before you can drink it. It really doesn’t need to be cleaned at all.”
“Sand takes out the solids,” Mason muttered. “Chemicals are supposed to kill the rest.”
Evelyn let out a sigh. “Guess who’s in charge of adding the chemicals …”
“No luck, Buck,” Mason told her before Riley could answer.
Riley felt a lump grow in her throat.
“Who knows if he’s been doing it.”
Riley swallowed and eyed the microscope. “Test the water with that.”
Robby was already working on it. He’d opened the bottle he’d collected at the tower and carefully tipped it until a drop fell onto a glass slide. He pressed another piece of glass on top, sandwiched the water in between, and put it on the microscope. When he looked down through the scope, he went quiet for a long time, slowly adjusting the various knobs.
Evelyn was getting impatient. “What do you see, Robby?”
Mason leaned toward Riley and whispered, “Imagine a million tiny versions of the thing you saw in your sink swimming around in there,in the water you’ve been drinking. Gross, huh?”
Riley’s stomach lurched, but she managed not to get sick.
“Robby …” Evelyn said again.
Nearly another minute went by before he leaned back from the microscope. “I don’t see anything.”
Evelyn nudged her brother aside and looked for herself. “There’s got to be something in there.”
“Not something visible,” Robby said. “That doesn’t mean there’s nothing wrong.”
“Bugs so small you can’t see them swimming,” Mason said quietly.
Riley wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed, like a self-hug. She didn’t realize she was scratching herself until she caught Mason staring.
“What the hell is that?” He pointed at her wrist, near the spot where his name was written.
Riley felt the blood leave her face.
Roy Buxtonhad appeared there in the same blueish ink.
She rubbed it with her thumb but it didn’t smear.
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed. “Give me the pen.”
“I didn’t write it.”
“Bullshit. Where are you hiding it?” Before Riley could stop her, Evelyn was patting her down, turning her pockets inside out. When she found nothing, she let out a frustrated grunt.
“I told you.”
“You want us to believe those names magically appeared on your arms. Just like that.”
“They did.”
Robby smeared something across her skin, wet and cold. It was an alcohol wipe. She had no idea where he’d gotten it. He looked at the pad, then her arm, and said matter-of-factly, “It’s not ink. It’s below her skin. Like a tattoo.” He went back to the water samples as if a tattoo appearing all on its own was the most normal thing ever.
Riley, Mason, and Evelyn all stared at each other.
Robby went over to the makeshift water collection systemhe’d rigged under the stalactite. Rummaging through his pockets, he found one of the test strips he’d pilfered from the water tower, held it under the spigot, twisted the knob, and soaked it. He shook off the excess and held the strip up to the light.
