B003J5UJ4U EBOK (21 page)

“Come on.” Torchie pointed toward the door. “We’d better get going.”

“Relax,” I said. “We’re going in a minute.”

“I’ll meet you outside.” He picked up his damaged accordion and dashed ahead.

I left the lab with the rest of the guys. As we headed down the street, I asked Torchie, “What was that all about?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on. I know you. What’s going on?”

He pulled something from his pocket. “Look what I found. I figured it was okay to take it since it belonged to the bad guy. I was afraid the other guy would want it back.” He held up a small gadget that looked like a fancy TV remote control. I figured he’d gotten it from the lab.

“Wow,” Martin said. “A box.”

“It makes a cool sound,” Torchie said. “There was a label on it saying it’s an FME device, whatever that is.”

“Probably frequency modulation,” Cheater said. “Maybe something to jam a radio transmission.”

Torchie pressed one of the buttons, and a whirring hum filled the air. “That one says
CHARGE
.” He pointed the control at Flinch and pushed the other button. “That one says
DISCHARGE
.” There was electronic chirp. But Flinch had already jumped out of the way.

“Watch out,” he said.

“It doesn’t do anything,” Torchie said.

“FM is just a type of radio signal,” Cheater said. “It can’t hurt you.”

“Some of the stuff I’ve heard on FM hurts a whole lot.” Flinch held his hand out. “Let me see.”

Torchie handed it to him. “Promise you won’t shoot me?”

“I promise I won’t not shoot you.” Flinch pressed the
CHARGE
button, then pointed the device at Torchie and pressed
DISCHARGE
.

“Hey!” Torchie said as the gadget let out another chirp.

“Will you guys quit playing around,” I said. “Put that away. It’s just a piece of junk.”

Torchie grabbed the thing from Flinch and shoved it in his pocket. “I found it and I’m keeping it.”

“Whatever.” I headed toward the hospital with the guys.

major glitches

“MAYBE YOU SHOULD
sneak back into your room,” I told Cheater when we reached the hospital.

“I will. But I want to be there when you give the disrupter to Lucky.”

“Sure. I wouldn’t want any of us to miss that.” I felt so good about this. Of all of us, Lucky was the one who had the hardest time coping. Finally, thanks to the disrupter, he’d have a shot at a normal life.

We walked up to the desk outside the psyche unit. “We’re friends of Dominic Calabrizi,” Martin said. “We came to visit him.”

“He’s not here,” the nurse said. This was a different woman from before.

“He went home?” Martin asked.

She nodded. “You just missed him. His father came for him about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Thanks.” We turned to walk off. This would delay things. But even if I couldn’t give Lucky the disrupter right away, I was glad he was heading home. Maybe he was getting better. Halfway to the elevator, I stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Martin asked.

“Something doesn’t feel right.” I went back to the desk. “Excuse me,” I said to the woman.

She looked up. I realized there was no way she would answer the question I was about to ask. At least not if I asked it straight out.
What did the man look like?
I’d have to find a way to trick the information out of her. “Was it Dominic’s father or his stepfather?” I asked.

“I hardly see what the difference is,” the woman said.

“Well, I want to know where I should go to see him. Was he about this tall …” I held my hand about six inches above my head. “With really short hair and a dark blue jacket.”

She nodded automatically. It had been an accurate description—not of any imaginary stepfather, but of our far-too-real enemy. “Thanks.”

I spun and dashed for the elevator.

“Bowdler?” Flinch asked.

“Has to be.”

“Oh no,” Martin said as we got into the elevator. “Bowdler has Lucky.”

“It looks like it,” I said.

“How?” Martin asked.

“It wouldn’t be hard. He had my name and Cheater’s name. Maybe he ran them through a computer and Edgeview popped up.”

“It would be easy from there,” Cheater said. “He wouldn’t have any trouble finding out where Lucky was.”

“So what do we do?” Flinch asked.

“Thurston should still be at the funeral home,” I said. “He can help.”

As soon as we left the hospital, Cheater pulled out the cell phone and punched in the number Thurston had given him. He listened for a minute. “No answer.”

“Are you sure you called the right number?”

“Of course.” Cheater repeated the number.

It sounded familiar to me. I looked at Flinch. He nodded. “That’s the one.”

“Try again.”

Cheater dialed, held the phone to his ear, then said, “Nope. No answer.”

You can always reach me at that number—day or night.

“I don’t like this.” I flagged down a cab. The driver wasn’t thrilled at the idea of five kids and a giant accordion in his cab, but a twenty-dollar bill erased his concerns. We crammed in and rode back to the funeral home.

“Do you think Bowdler brought Lucky here?” Martin asked.

I looked at the opening where the door had been. “I can’t tell. We’re just going to have to go in and find out.”

When I went through the doorway, the hairs on the back of my neck rose up.

“Something’s wrong here,” Martin said.

“Yeah.” I walked to the stairs at the end of the hallway. Halfway down, I froze. “Oh God …”

“What?” Flinch pushed by me, then lurched to a halt. I saw his whole body shudder. He spun around, staggered past me, then bent over and threw up.

I choked down my own nausea and forced myself to move a step closer. I didn’t want to. The chill on the back of my neck grew colder as the odor of spilled blood flooded my nostrils.

“They’re both dead,” I said.

There’d been a fight. That much, I could tell for sure. I guess the guy put up a struggle when Thurston went to take him out of the cell. I heard a thump behind me. Torchie had dropped to a seat on the steps. His head went limp. As he started to tip over, Cheater steadied him.

“Let’s get out of here,” Flinch said.

I shook my head. “I have to see … Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe Torchie can stop the bleeding. Thurston is really tough. I broke all his ribs and he lived.”

Martin grabbed my shoulder. “He’s gone.”

A knife handle stuck out of Thurston’s chest. His eyes were wide open and staring. The other guy, outside the door of the cell, was sprawled face down in a pool of blood that was still slowly spreading. I think he’d been shot in the throat. The guy must have pulled a knife and stabbed Thurston. It looked different than the knife Thurston had taken from him earlier. I guess he’d had it hidden. And I guess Thurston managed to get off a shot before he died.

Then I noticed something else. There was blood on the steps below me.

“Footprints,” I said. “I’ll bet Bowdler brought Lucky here, then took off when he saw the bodies. We probably just missed them.”

“Let’s go,” Cheater said.

“Wait,” Martin said. “We need that video.”

I looked at him. He looked back at me. I knew neither of us wanted to reach into a dead man’s pocket.

“I’ll do it.” Flinch went down the steps, skirting around the blood, and slipped two fingers into Thurston’s shirt pocket. He pulled out the memory card, shuddered, and came back up the stairs.

“You okay?” I asked.

He nodded, then shuddered again. “Must have just happened. He’s still warm.”

I stared at Thurston for another moment, then turned and went outside. The fresh air scrubbed my lungs, but the rest of me felt smeared with the stink of death.

some dim place

I STOOD OUTSIDE
the building and kicked the ashes from the door off my sneakers. “I’m sorry.” My words felt hollow. How could anything make up for dragging the guys into this mess?

“Don’t apologize,” Martin said. “You didn’t know this would happen.”

“Hey, we’ve been in trouble before,” Cheater said.

“Not like this.” My voice sounded flat to me. So did theirs. I think we were numbed by what we’d seen.

Martin shrugged. “Trouble is trouble. We’ll be okay.”

“It could be worse,” Torchie said.

“We don’t even have a place to go.”

I realized the hotel was out. That’s where Bowdler had found us. I hated to leave my stuff behind, but there was nothing I could do about that. We couldn’t go to anyone’s house. Somehow, they’d connected Lucky to me. Probably through Edgeview. So they knew about all of us. “What’s your hotel like?” I asked Torchie.

He wrinkled his nose. “It’s not great. I think the guy who
was there before me had a dog. And the room’s really small. But I guess we could go there.”

“We’ve got a better place,” Cheater said. “My uncle owns a business in Chinatown. That’s only about twelve blocks from here. There are apartments above it. He keeps a couple of them available for family members. I stay there all the time.”

“Awesome,” Flinch said. “I love Chinese food.”

Cheater spun toward Flinch. “Did I say anything about food? What makes you think it’s a Chinese restaurant?”

Flinch shrugged. “I just figured …”

“What? He’s Chinese so he must own a Chinese restaurant? Man, that is so racist. If Lucky’s uncle had a business, would you assume it was a pizzeria? What about you? If your uncle had a restaurant, would it be a rib joint?” Cheater spat out the last words, then grabbed his face and groaned.

“Hey, sorry,” Flinch said.

I looked around, worried that someone would hear the shouting, but there was nobody in sight. That was good. I didn’t want anyone to know where we were going.

Cheater led us over to Chinatown, and then down a crowded, narrow street to a two-story whitewashed brick building. I could see red paper lanterns through the window, and all sorts of strips of paper on the walls with Chinese writing. The familiar aroma of egg rolls in hot oil mingled with other tantalizing scents. As we went inside, Flinch said, “Hey, is this your uncle’s place?”

Cheater nodded. “Uncle Ray. He’s great. He’s not my real uncle. He’s my father’s best friend. I’ve known him as long as I can remember.”

Flinch pointed to the rows of small tables, covered with platters of steaming food. “But you said it wasn’t a restaurant.”

“Nope. I said it was racist for you to assume it was a restaurant.”

Before they could argue any further, we were interrupted by an old guy in a tan shirt and gray suit who rushed over from the register.

“Dennis,” the man said. “Are you hurt? What happened to your face?”

“I’m okay, Uncle Ray,” Cheater said. He pointed at us. “These are my friends. I was hoping we could stay here for a day or two.”

“Are you trying to get away from your brother?”

Cheater nodded. “You know how he is. With the folks on their trip, he thinks of me as his personal servant. So, can we hang out here?”

“Of course. You’re welcome anytime. The spare apartment is empty.” He pulled a key ring from his pocket, slipped off one of the keys, and handed it to Cheater.

Cheater led us back outside, and then in again through a narrow door next to the restaurant that opened right to a flight of stairs. There were four apartments on the second floor. Cheater unlocked the first door on the right and we followed him in. The place had three bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen. There were two couches, a dinner table, and a couple easy chairs in the living room. We all collapsed into the cushions.

If I didn’t have to move again for the rest of my life, I’d be
happy. I just wanted to sink down so deep nobody could find me. Everyone looked totally exhausted. I waited for someone to talk, but nobody else said a word. Finally, I broke the silence. “I never saw a dead person before.”

“Me either,” Martin said.

“I saw my grandfather at his funeral,” Flinch said. “No blood …”

“It’s like a candle,” Cheater said. He blew a hard puff of air. “Poof. Gone.”

There was another silence. I could tell that nobody wanted to talk about it. That was okay. There’d be time later.