Amy watched as the girl made way down the hallway. Shining in a halo of golden light, she looked like one of those Virgin Mary paintings the kind Amy used to see painted on the stained windows of the little church her parents used to drag her to.

Beyond the flickering light of the girl's torch, a solid darkness stretched infinity every way. Twice Amy flinched and froze as the girl turned eyes her way, but there was no reaction. Too dark. Amy was safe, immersed in the black, watching the girl but not being watched back.

The girl made way to the end of the hallway, and Amy stepped out of the classroom to look. She stopped in front of a window, the moon framed small and shy outside. Stood there for a few seconds. Then, in a sudden movement, crouched and grabbed something from the floor.

Amy watched the girl bang the window re-boarded. She sighed, happy. Open windows let rain in, and rain brought Ghosts, and Amy didn't like Ghosts.

Ghosts were the reason her father was dead, and the reason her little brother was dead, and the reason her mom was dead. It was because of Ghosts that Amy was alone. Because of Ghosts that she wandered the streets for weeks, hiding in every dirty, smelly, ugly place with a roof she could find. Eating any rotten thing she could eat. Avoiding the water from above like it was acid. It was all because of the Ghosts.

But now she had found the school, and she was safe, at least for a while. There was the girl to worry about, but the girl wasn't as scary as the Ghosts. Amy could hide from the girl. Three days she'd been sharing the building with the girl, and the girl still had no idea.

Even if the girl was bad and she caught Amy and she killed Amy, it still would be better than the Ghosts. Amy had decided long ago she'd rather die of starvation or at the hands of a gang or a lone drifter than die in the hands of the Ghosts. Anything but the Ghosts.

She felt a hand against her cheek and froze. The girl. The torch was gone and, in the darkness, Amy didn't see her coming, and now she was too close, arms reach, breath inches from Amy's ears.

"Who's there?" Amy heard the voice. It wasn't the first time she heard the girl speak, but it was the first time it was addressed at her. "I have a... wild animal! And a wooden stick! Still hot!"

Amy stepped back, and her feet screeched against the vinyl. She blinked furiously, trying to make out something in the dark. Nothing. Then the hint of a silhouette – a dark shade of gray against black, almost invisible. The girl waving her arms in the dark, feeling for something. Right at the bend of the corridor, not two feet from Amy.

She looked back and thought about backing into the classroom again. But the girl wouldn't just forget about her, now. She'd keep looking. She'd come back in the morning, and Amy would have to leave, to face the rain again, before the girl got to her.

Amy pressed her eyes shut then opened them again. She risked a step forwards into the corridor. The shape of the girl came to sight against the black again, so feeble it was hard to tell it from the light spots in the dark. But she was there – arms in front of her body and all around like balancing on a wire.

Amy breathed in deep. She wasn't going back to the rain. Anything but the rain.

Amy hoped, she really hoped, that the girl was one of the good people.

The punch hit whoever it was right in the face – Marylou felt the bump of a nose and the hollow of an eye socket -- and the yelp that followed was high-pitched and girly. In the dark, feeling the walls, she called: "Who the fuck are you!? I have a gun! And a snake!" She tried a few more stumbles and bumped into a hard surface. A door. "I have a gun-snake!" she cried, scanning the dark all around.

She heard the other girl breath and whine. How old did she sound? Fifteen? Maybe sixteen? Marylou refused to believe she'd meet her end at a sixteen-year-old drifter with a pipe or a shotgun or whatever that simple bitch was packing.

"I'm bleeding," she heard, from under and ahead. The girl was on the floor.

"You're damn right you're bleeding!" Marylou cried. "I'm feeding you to my snake, you bitch."

"Get a light, please," the girl whined, "I think you broke my nose."

"Do you have a weapon!?"

"No!"

"Do you want to kill me!?"

"No!"

"That's exactly what a murderer would say!"

The girl whined again. "Please, it really hurts."

Marylou stopped in the darkness. By the bumps and tumbles before, she figured she was under the doorway of a classroom, the girl on the other end of her punch lying inside on the floor, maybe by the teacher's desk, if there was still one. She considered her options. The girl didn't sound dangerous, but you could never be sure.

"All right," Marylou said. "You don't move, okay? Or... move. Yes! Get out, this is my building. Or... no, actually, don't do that, 'cause I won't know if you left or not afterwards, and it'd be like when you see a spider and you grab your shoe and then the spider's not there anymore and you –" she paused. "Just... stay there!"

"I'm not gonna move," the girl cried back. "Please hurry, it hurts."

Marylou felt her way back to the bend of the hallway, then, with the burning coal of her fire as lighthouse in the distance, she started down more confident steps towards her regular spot between the lockers.

She put the wood to the fire again, but it didn't catch – the fire on its last glow of orange, no flames. She fumbled for her backpack and reached in for the lighter fluid and sprayed just enough around the tip of her torch to get it going again. This time it caught on.

"I'm coming back," Marylou cried to the darkness. "You better not have moved!"

"I didn't!" the girl answered. "Please come quick, I think there's something crawling up my leg!"

"Relax, it's just Evil Noodle!"

"Evil Noodle!?"

"My ball python!"

"What!?"

"It's my snake!"

"Oh, God..."

Marylou made way back, slow to keep the fire alive, until she reached the classroom door. The girl was on the floor still, sitting up against the wall, hands over her nose. Five feet in front of her, head up in charge position, Evil Noodle stood carelessly, looking the girl in the eyes, tongue hissing in and out of its tiny mouth.

"Can you... take it? Please?"

Marylou rolled her eyes. "It has a name, and it's Evil Noodle." She snatched the snake from the ground. It coiled around her wrist, cold and rough. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name's Amy," the girl said. She was shaking from head to toe, curled under the blackboard.

Marylou waited, but the girl didn't say anything else. "Well, I'm gonna need more, Amy."

"What?"

"Are you with anyone? How did you end up here?" Marylou paused. "And why the hell did you grab me in the dark like a goddamned axe murderer?"

Amy swallowed. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you I was here, but I was afraid you were gonna hit me, so I tried to hold your hand. So you wouldn't hit me."

Marylou crouched to the girl. Her nose was dripping in a faint red liquid, but it didn't look broken. "Well, you forgot I have two hands." She scooted closer, and the girl recoiled. "Oh, stop it," Marylou said. She pulled her shirt by the hem and blotted the girl's nose with it.

Amy flinched. "Ouch."

"You're fine."

"Is it broken?"

Marylou pulled back. "Yes. I'm afraid the swelling is only going to get worse, and it might block your respiratory tracks. You'll probably die."

Amy let out a soft wimp and pulled back. Her eyes widened.

"I'm joking," Marylou said. She got up and offered her hand. "Come on, let's go back to the fire."

The girl didn't move.

"Dude, if I was going to kill you, I would have done it by now," Marylou said.

Nothing from Amy.

"Seriously. I'm harmless." She paused. "Well, not harmless, I did punch you, but I'm not a psycho. Let's –"

"It's not that."

"What's wrong, then?"

Amy's eyes were frozen on Marylou's hand. Marylou looked down at her own wrist. Evil Noodle was still there, wrapped around her forearm, curious eyes all around the room. "Oh..." Marylou switched hands. "There. Is that better?"

They made way back to the fire in silence, and Amy took a spot under the window by Marylou's side and sat down, eyes locked on the snake the whole time.

Marylou slid to the floor by the girl's side. "She's harmless." She offered her snake-hand. "You wanna hold her?"

Amy recoiled.

Marylou shrugged. "All right. But you're gonna have to get used to her," she said, sliding her back further down the wall, petting the snake's head. "She's not going anywhere as long as there's a fire going."

"It's a she?" Amy asked, her voice faint.

Marylou looked down at Evil Noodle. "Fuck if I know," she said, after a second. "Looks like a she, doesn't it?"

Evil Noodle stared back, possibly offended.