Because You Exist (10 page)

Chapter 15

“You’re all over Facebook, Middleton. I mean they should really give you some sort of award or something. Not since the death of Michael Jackson have I seen one name appear in so many people’s status updates.”

Alec didn’t waste any time cornering me the next morning at school. He was waiting for me at my locker. I had set my alarm for a half hour earlier than usual in hopes that I could make it to my locker and first period class without running into any of Shepherd High’s moral and ethics committee, which consisted of some of Shepherd High’s most amoral characters. Their motto: do as I say not as I do, and never screw up our football season. It wasn’t a real committee, but damn did they band together like one when the mob was unhappy.

Usually they approached the guilty party in waves: first your boys would approach you under the guise of wanting to help you out. Next, the girls would approach your girlfriend, sister, cousin, or whomever else they felt had some sort of influence over you. Last, they would go to a guidance counselor, feigning concern for your well-being. Last year, the mob squad went to the guidance counselor when Lisa, a cheerleader, a flier no less, put on twenty pounds over the summer. The girls went to the counselor and told her they were afraid Lisa was stress eating. And eating disorders are a no-no.

Even with my early start, Alec was waiting for me. Meaning he must have been really pissed. Alec didn’t show up early for anything unless it would result in free booze or some play. Once he went to the Coach’s daughter’s birthday party two hours early under the pretense that he was there to help set up. During the two hours before the party started, he stole beers from the cooler one at a time and hid them in a cooler he kept in the trunk of his car. He always got what he wanted.

Today that included reading me the riot act.

“I don’t have a Facebook,” I snapped. I didn’t need everyone knowing what I was doing every minute of the day. Besides, the stories they usually made up about my supposedly wild weekends were usually better than what actually occurred. And I kind of liked having an air of mystery to me. How popular would I be if everyone knew I was fully committed to Jenna and usually spent my weekends curled up on the couch with her watching cheesy chick flicks?

“Yeah? Maybe you should get one. Do some damage control. Cheating on Jenna Maples isn’t sitting well with most around here. People actually think she’s nice. Not to mention if you mess up tonight, you’ll really see the witch hunt begin.”

“Weren’t you the one asking for details about me and Carrie like days ago?” I asked, throwing my books into my locker. Books I probably needed. I just needed to throw something.

“Yeah, well, that was before you started messing with my chances of going to State. Walking off practice was dumb. It was also before you got cocky and let half the school watch you walk her to your car after you did God knows what. I mean she couldn’t run a brush through her hair? Sex hair is always a giveaway, man. You might as well have done it right there in the parking lot.”

I turned on Alec. “Do you ever actually listen to yourself? You sound like a freakin idiot!”

“Do you ever use your brain? I’m not above thinking with the cock, dude, but you need to get it together. Whatever you have going on with Ms. Emo has to stop. Fix things with Jenna, and win the game tonight. Otherwise, you’re gonna find yourself on the wrong side of things, man. Consider yourself warned.”

I slammed my locker shut and took a step closer to Alec. “You sound like some lame ass teen movie. This isn’t a movie, Alec. I’ll do whatever the hell I want. If I want to hang out with Josephine, I’ll hang out with Josephine. My relationship with Jenna is not a team or school matter. And I’ll win that damn game tonight. Not for you or the school. I’ll win it for me because I’m a damn good quarterback. So, get off my ass.”

I’m not sure if Alec heard a word I said because his eyes were glaring at someone behind me. I turned to see Josephine, dressed in a brand new black hoodie. Her hood was off her head, and she was glaring right back at Alec. She looked a lot more self-assured than I felt. It felt good to say the things I said, but the trouble was I didn’t know if I believed them.

“Take care of it,” Alec snarled and turned and stalked down the hallway.

“Thanks,” Josephine said, nodding towards where Alec walked off.

“For what?” I replied, fiddling with the straps of my book bag. There weren’t many kids roaming the hallways yet, but I knew that wouldn’t last for long.

“Yesterday. I figured they’d give you hell for it today.”

“Like I care. I’m Logan Middleton. You think I care what they think?”

“I’m Logan Middleton? Wow. You sound like an idiot when you talk like that. And yes, I do think you care what they think.”

“Awesome. Thanks for the vote of confidence. Nice hoodie by the way. Do you buy them in bulk?”

Josephine smiled, and I wondered if she even noticed I had insulted her. “You caring what they think is part of what made yesterday pretty cool. I know it was risky for you to help me, and I wanted to thank you for it. I know I wasn’t particularly gratuitous yesterday.”

No, between the freak out in the car, the joking of my room, and the creeptastic incident with my uncle, she didn’t really have time to thank me properly.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “Well, you sort of saved my life. Consider us even. You killed a man for me. I committed social suicide.”

“Oh, come on. One public appearance with Scary Carrie and the great Logan Middleton is brought down? Nonsense.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. Even if she was making fun of me a little. “You’re right. It would take so much more than that.”

Josephine leaned against the locker next to mine. “Was Jenna really mad?”

I noticed the way the both of us were keeping our hands busy. I continued to pull on the straps of my book bag, and Josephine wrapped and unwrapped one of her hoodie’s drawstrings around her hand.

“She’s cool,” I replied.

Josephine shook her head, one of those knowing smiles gracing her face. I hated when she smiled at me like that. “So, you two didn’t really talk about it. Did you?”

“We talked.” Sort of.

“Oh? So what did you tell her? Did you tell her we’re time travelers who almost lost our lives? Or how you were helping me wash the blood off my hands? Or maybe that we might just be friends?”

“What does it matter?” I asked, looking at my cell phone to check the time. It was getting harder and harder to look into her eyes. Part of me wished she would pull that hood right back over her face.

“I might need to know the cover story before I return her sweatshirt to her.”

“I’ll give it to her.”

“Wow. You told her nothing. Did you?”

“That’s not true. I told her there was nothing going on with us.”

“Nothing? So, we’re not friends? I mean sure we aren’t braiding each other’s hair or playing Mash, but I thought something like a near death experience might have given us a little perspective. Or maybe it was the fact that we were told we’re partnered for a reason? But I guess like usual, I’m just nutso.”

“Josephine. Look...”

“Save it, Staus Quo. I’ll see you the next time we shift.”

Did she need a friend?

I watched her leave. I didn’t stop her. I wanted to tell her that maybe we were friends. That I was sorry I wasn’t like her. I wanted to tell her to stop making me think there was something wrong with my relationship with Jenna. But as the hallways became more and more crowded, I didn’t say anything at all.

“Look’s like there’s trouble in paradise,” someone yelled to me as I hurried to class.

Chapter 16

I made a promise to myself as I sat in the bathroom stall waiting for the shift to do its thing—whenever I found out who was doing this, choosing to make us shift whenever it suited his needs, I was going to kick him right in the balls. If it turned out to be a woman, I’d punch her straight in the boob. Like I said, you can’t call me sexist.

I was pissed because less than twenty-four hours after almost being tortured and killed by a bunch of freak plague survivors, I was once again shifting. My body was still sore from my last adventure, and who knew what awaited Josephine and me on this trip. Not to mention I had a football game to prepare for.

Apparently, there are some things more important than going to State.

With a frustrated grunt, I let the shift consume me. I didn’t fight the vision and hearing loss. I let the darkness have its way.

When I awoke I didn’t waste much time washing the blood off my face. It’s not like I had anyone to impress in this world. Josephine was probably still pissed, and unless the plague survivors were really lonely, I didn’t think they would care much how I looked either. Besides, something seemed fitting about my face being marked with blood.

Ready for battle.

Josephine was waiting for me at the school entrance with her hood pulled up. It was going to be a long day. Or hour. Or minute. However long those in charge decided we needed to be there.

Like I said...much punching would be done.

“Where shall we explore today? I’m not packing a gun, so maybe we stay close to the school?” Josephine asked dryly.

“Lead away,” I replied.

Josephine stuffed her fists in her pockets and walked ahead of me.

“How was..”

“I swear, Logan, if you ask me how my day was, I’ll punch you right in your pretty, little face.”

“You know that’s the second time you’ve told me I’m pretty?” I replied, jogging to catch up with her.

Josephine turned on me. “I’m not Jenna.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not her. You can’t use your charm to make your jackass behavior less jackass like.”

“I wasn’t trying to—”

“Of course you were. I’m all you got here. So, of course you’d try to make nice once we shifted. I knew you would. But you could at least be a little more subtle about it.” Josephine continued to walk, though backwards so she could face me as she belittled and shamed me.

“Listen, Josephine. I know you have this I don’t care about school politics attitude,” I began.

“You think I don’t care? I care. I care probably more than most. Definitely more than you—”

“There you are little shifter”

Before I could move to protect Josephine, a survivor appeared and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around to face him. Her eyes widened just as his arm swung back and he punched her squarely in the eye. Josephine fell against the wall, knocking her head and crumpling to the floor.

I stumbled backwards. There wasn’t much time to decide—stay and attempt to fight this crazed man and help Josephine or run for my life? Being the faster thinker, the survivor leapt towards me and tackled me to the ground. He sat on my back and pressed my face against the dusty floor. A position I was getting used to finding myself in. I craned my neck, struggling to see if Josephine was all right, but she was still unconscious.

“You dumbasses. You think we wouldn’t figure out your starting point? Two teenagers? I mean come on. We found you a mile from here.”

I pushed with all of my strength and managed to shove the man off me. The survivor scrambled to his feet and began to laugh. I was still on my ass, but at least he wasn’t on top of me. This was the first time I could really look at him. He was one of the men from before.

We had been stupid. Only three of them had chased us. When we first met the survivors there were four of them. This man must have stayed out of the hunt, and now he had tracked us down for revenge.

“I got some friends who want to see you two pay, but I’m not really into sharing though. I want the light one. I want the light one. I want the light one.” The man wiped a hand across his mouth as if the very thought of conquering us caused him to drool.

Past his musty smell and tattered clothes, there was something else off about the appearance of this man. Besides his crazy muttering that is. His body, like the other survivors, held the marks of the disease he had somehow survived—long, deep gashes that looked like they would never heal. On the inside of his wrist were three slash marks burned into his skin.

The branded man took a step closer to me and I pushed myself back, still on my backside.

“Just let me have her, and I’ll end you quick.”

“Piss off,” I spat. There was no way he was going to let us go, and I was no match for him. I could only hope Josephine would wake up and save us again. Somehow.

“I’m gonna rip your skin off, shifter,” the man snarled, and pulled a long knife out from his boot.

Before the survivor could take two steps, something darted in front of my vision and knocked him to the ground. When my eyes finally focused I saw a rather large man struggling to hold down the survivor. The fat man was wearing jeans and a Washington Redskins jersey. For some reason, the sight of that damn Cooley jersey made me instantly trust the man. Either that or the fact that he smelled of sweat and after-shave, not of death and decay. I rocked my body forward and crawled to help hold the survivor down.

The large man looked me in the eye and gave me a curt nod. “Bentham!” he yelled out, turning his head to look over his shoulder. “I found them! And a Zombie! Get your tail here and fast!”

The survivor thrashed violently on the floor, going back and forth between cussing and laughing.

“Bentham,” the man called out again, “I’m not going to be able to hold him much longer! You better hope I’m not the conductor or your slow self will be stuck here!”

I heard the click of the gun before I saw the man referred to as Bentham. I craned my neck to see a young man run down the hallway, holding a gun straight at us. He didn’t look much older than me, but he sure looked like he knew how to handle a gun.

“Can you get him outside?” the young man asked.

The large man nodded. “Sure can. Damn it, I hate this part.”

“What you gonna kill me, Fatty?” the survivor said through clenched teeth. Gone was the laughter. “They’ll slice you up and let you rot. Wouldn’t eat you. Too much damn fat. Don’t want to die an early death.”

Bentham brought the butt of the gun down forcefully over the survivor’s head, but the crazed man continued to ramble. “I’ll eat the dark ones. I’ll eat them right up! And the light, the light, I’ll scoop out the insides—”

Bentham brought the gun down again and the survivor’s eyes rolled back into his head. With a grunt, his head fell forward as he lost consciousness.

“Check on your friend while Randall and I take out the trash,” Bentham snapped at me. The lanky, bossy kid and the fat man picked up the survivor by the arms and pulled him towards the entrance.

Once they were gone, I rushed over to Josephine. Crouching in front of her, I pulled her so she was sitting up against the wall. I shook her slightly, but still she didn’t wake up. My heart began to pound. What if she was really hurt? How long had she been unconscious? I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close to me. I closed my eyes and tried to listen to her breathing. Did it sound normal?

“Josephine? You gotta wake up. I don’t know what I’m doing here.” And it was true. Was it smart to sit and wait for the men to return? I was pretty sure they weren’t survivors, but did that automatically equate trust? All that talk about dark shifters and light shifters. While Josephine was dark, I knew she had limits. Could the same be said for the dark shifter in their pairing? Sure, they would protect each other; I was beginning to understand the bond between dark and light, but what was in it for them if they protected other shifters? I didn’t completely understand the rules of this new world.

The gunshot sliced through the silence of the desecrated hallways of Shepherd High. I ground my teeth together, fighting the urge to run and hide. Fear was the only emotion I felt that I really understood as of late. I jolted to my feet, lifting Josephine up with me. I held her body against mine and braced for whatever came next.

Bentham stalked towards us. The fat man followed behind him, wiping the sweat off of his flushed face with a handkerchief. “Did you really have to kill him?” the big one wheezed.

“Sorry, Randall. It’s kill or be killed. You know the rules. We let one of them live and we’ll just have to kill three more next time.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. So you tell me, Ben.”

I cleared my throat.

“Right. You.” Bentham, er, Ben rolled his eyes.

“You’re shifters? Aren’t you?” Randall asked, slowly grinning.

“Of course they are. See his look of complete and utter helplessness? Totally a shifter. How’s she?” Bentham reached a hand forward to touch Josephine’s face.

I took a step back, dragging Josephine with me. “She doesn’t like to be touched,” I growled.

Bentham held up his hands. “Okie. Dokie. I’ll let you take care of her. How come you aren’t that protective over me?” he asked, throwing a look to Randall.

Randall laughed. “What? There was that time I thought you were dead. Remember? I even shed a tear.”

“Funny, old man. You ready to make a run for it?” Bentham asked, eyeing his partner who was still struggling to catch his breath.

“Does it really matter if I’m ready?”

“Guess not. You might want to carry her. We’re gonna have to make a run for it,” Bentham said, turning back towards me.

With a sudden jerk of her body, Josephine pushed me away from her and lunged at Bentham. Caught off guard, Bentham couldn’t defend himself as Josephine swiftly pulled her knee up, hitting him in the balls. As if that wasn’t enough, Josephine popped her arm back and landed a punch in his throat. Bentham keeled over, dropping the gun he held in his hand.

I no longer hesitated. I grabbed for the gun, getting there before Randall. Bentham lay on the floor coughing violently.

“Give me the gun, Logan.”

I tried to stop my hand from shaking as Josephine snatched the weapon from my hand. Pointing the gun at Bentham and Randall, Josephine took a shaky breath. “You’re going to tell us who the hell you are, or I’ll shoot you.”

“But...but...we saved you,” Randall sputtered.

“Well, you know what they say, Randall—it's a kill or be killed world,” Josephine replied, cocking the gun.