Betrayed (10 page)

Rae opened the door and slid into the driver's seat. She was sitting here seconds before she died. The thought
flashed through Rae's mind before she could stop it, and everyplace her body touched the seat began to itch, even
though her skin was protected by a layer of clothing. Ignoring the sensation, she lightly rested all ten fingertips on
the steering wheel. More static. Rae ran her fingers over the ridges of the wheel, not wanting to leave an eighth of an
inch untouched. Static. Static. But a different kind, she thought. Like from those white noise machines some people
used to block out sounds while they slept.

The police probably dusted the whole thing for prints, Rae thought. It's distorted the thoughts even more than
usual. She moved her hands from thewheel to the dashboard, then from the dashboard to the sun visors, from the
sun visors to the rearview mirror. Just more of the same soft, eerie shushing. Under that sound, Amanda's trying to
tell me something. I know it, Rae thought.

She traced the front of the glove box, the shushing, hissing white noise sounding like a ghostly voice to her now, a
voice begging to be understood. "I want to hear what you have to say," Rae said. The hairs on the back of her neck
and her arms stood up because it felt like someone was listening.

Rae jerked her head to the garage door. It was closed, just as she'd left it. She was still alone. But it didn't feel that
way.

"Amanda, if you're here, I want to help you," Rae said, her voice sounding way too loud in the enclosed space of
the car. You're letting your imagination get out of control, she told herself. Amanda isn't here. Amanda is dead.

Try the seat belt. The idea came to her as bright and clear as a neon sign. The seat belt would have been dusted,
too, but she ran her fingers over the metal insert. Shhhhh. She ran her fingers over the plastic buckle and release
button. Shhhhh. She ran her fingers over the webbed strap.
ShhhhHIMhhh
Rae's heart felt like it had been zapped
with thepaddles of one of those machines doctors used to bring people back to life. Her body actually convulsed.

She moved her fingers back and inch.
ShhhhHIMhhh

That one thought, that HIM, was filled with knowledge. And it had the flavor of the thoughts she'd gotten from
Amanda's belongings. She knew the person who killed her, Rae realized. Knew him and was terrified by the sight of
him. Rae continued running her fingers along the belt but got nothing except the white noise. The ghost voice. She
knew it was just a different version of the static, but God, it felt like Amanda was trying to talk to her.

Rae scanned the passenger-side seat belt, the headrests, the entire length of the seat. Shhhhh. That was all. But it
felt more insistent. It feels that way because you've scared yourself. That's all, Rae thought.

She got another neon-sign idea. The floor mat. Rae climbed out of the car and crouched next to it so she could
search the floor mat, although she didn't know why Amanda would have gotten any fingerprints on it. The answer
came to her as soon as the thought was formed. She was being dragged out of the car, and she grabbed the mat.

Whoa. Where did that come from? Rae wondered. Did it come from Amanda? Could Amanda beguiding her? Get a
grip, Rae thought. You know Amanda was pulled from her car, and you made a logical leap. And anyway, you don't
even know for sure that there are prints on the mat.

All her muscles tensed as she reached out one hand and tentatively touched the black rubber.
ShhhILLshhh

Rae backtracked with her fingers.
ShhhKILLhhh

Another shock to her heart. "Clear," Rae muttered, rubbing her chest with her free hand while tracing the area
where she'd gotten the thought.
kill us all

An absolutely clear one. Like a voice speaking in Rae's ear. Rae noticed there was a tiny nick in the rubber just
outside where her fingers were positioned. Amanda did that with her fingernail, she thought. God, I'm having those
logic leaps all over the place. Suddenly she wanted to get out of the garage. Okay, not suddenly. She'd wanted out
of the garage since she stepped into it. But now it was like the air was getting sucked out of the place, like Rae
would die if she stayed.

There's plenty of air, she told herself, pulling in a deep breath as proof. She continued searching the mat, the
shushing sounds feeling like they were wrapping her in cotton, filling her nose, filling her mouth. She really couldn't
breathe.

Yes, you can, she thought, taking a long, slow breath while her fingers continued to move.

shhhWARNhhh
THEhhhh/GROUhhh/

Hot tears filled Rae's eyes. She didn't know if they were hers or if they were coming from Amanda's emotions. She
never got to warn the group, Rae thought. How many of the others did he kill? Every time I tried to contact someone
from the group and got a new resident or a no-new-number message, every time that happened-was the person
dead? Rae's breath started to come in pants. It was too huge. Too horrible. She couldn't take it in.

Got to calm down, she thought. Got to finish what I came to do. As quickly as she could, Rae searched the rest of
the car, the chilling whisper of the white noise accompanying her. The second she was done, she threw the tarp
back over the car, forced herself to take three precious seconds to straighten it, then ran back into the kitchen and
shoved the door shut behind her, forgetting that she was supposed to have been in the bathroom and not the
garage.

You're okay. You're okay. You're okay. She kept up the reassuring mental chant as she rushed back into the living
room. A strange sound greeted her. It took her a moment to realize it was laughter. Jesse and Mandy were laughing.

She'd gotten so used tothe shushing sound that human laughter sounded bizarre to her.

"Are you okay?" Mandy asked, catching sight of her. "Jesse said you got sick to your stomach."

"I'm fine," Rae answered. But is Mandy? she wondered.

Rae was so sure that the person who tried to kill her killed Mandy's mother. Mandy's mother and who knew how
many others. And the reason they'd tried to kill Rae was because Rae's mother was in the group. Did that mean
Mandy was in danger? Was Mandy being watched, too? Was he waiting for the chance to Get some facts, Rae told
herself. "Did you find the picture?" she asked Mandy.

"Oh, yeah." Mandy bent down to the coffee table and picked up the photo. Rae reached for it, allowing her
fingertips to touch Mandy's.

A tidal wave of thoughts and emotions crashed down on Rae, almost knocking her off her feet. There was so
much grief. Anger. And there, right there, a little swirl of excitement and pleasure along with Jesse's name. Rae
pushed it aside. Was there any fear? Any feeling of being watched? Anything suspicious?

Rae took in as much as she could and found nothing to make her think anyone was after Mandy. At least not yet.

I still don't know who else is so interested in my Rae. But I do know that whoever it is would also be interested in
me-if they knew the truth about me. I need to know exactly who this potential threat is. I can't keep myself safe if I
don't know who might be coming after me. And so I must keep her alive. For now. And watch her to discover who
might want to watch me.

But that doesn't mean I can't have any fun. I've decided that I will be a cat, and Rae, Rae will be my little mousie. I
will bat her with my paw, scrape her with my sharp white teeth. Terrify her. Leave her squeaking and trembling.

Yes, there's a lot of pain that Rae can experience before she dies, so maybe it's better this way. She deserves all
the pain I can inflict. Then she deserves to die.

Country-western music began to play on the clock radio. Extremely high-fat cheese. Very funny, Dad, Rae thought.

Clearly he'd fiddled with the settings. She grabbed her pillow and pulled it over her head, trying to block out the
whiny voice. Rolling over and turning off the radio would work better, but Rae wasn't ready to wake up to that
degree yet. Just a few more minutes. That's all she needed.

But she couldn't go back to sleep. It was too late. She'd already remembered the numb spot that had appeared
after she'd gone fingerprint-to-fingerprint with Mandy. It'll probably be a lot better already, Rae told herself.

Tentatively she brought her hand up to her left side and traced one finger along her ribs. She didn't feel it. She
pressed a little harder, scraping the skin with her nail. It hurt. Good. By the end of the day the spot would probably
be completely back to normal.

Either that or every time she got a numb spot, it would last a little longer, and she'd eventually end up dead. Sleep,
even a few more extra minutes, no longer held any appeal. Rae threw the pillow on the floor, rolled onto her side-and
felt something hard underneath her cheek.

Weird, she thought. She pulled out the object and held it up in front of her eyes. It was about half thesize of her
thumb, and it was wrapped in lavender tissue paper.

Maybe it's another lame-o joke from Dad, she thought. But her heart had its doubts. It was pounding like it wanted
to escape from her chest.

Rae sat up and tore away the paper. Her fingers cramped, and she dropped the bullet on her comforter. A bullet.

She'd been holding a bullet. She forced herself to pick it up again. Wiped clean. No prints. No thoughts. Carefully, as
if it could go off even without a gun, Rae placed the bullet on her nightstand. Just as carefully she climbed out of
bed. She reached for the tissue paper and realized there was writing on it. The word Amanda caught her eye. She
stared at the name, repeating it over and over in her mind until it became meaningless, just a jumble of sounds.

You've got to read the rest, she told herself, then she smoothed out the torn tissue paper, scanning for prints,
getting none, until the note written on it was revealed: It happened to Amanda. It could happen to you. Stay away
from places you don't belong.

The tissue paper turned damp in her fingers, damp with sweat. Someone had been in her house.

In her room. Staring down at her while she was asleep. She got a flash of the fake meter reader guy leaning close
to her, sliding his hand close to her face.

But the doors were locked. The windows were locked. Rae checked them every night before she went to bed.

Yeah, she told herself. But you're dealing with a guy who has put bugs in Anthony and Yana's cars. A guy who has
been taking pictures of you with a camera that has an extreme telephoto lens. A guy who paid someone to plant a
pipe bomb at Oakvale. A guy like that wouldn't have a problem picking a lock or hiring someone who could.

Rae rolled the note between her sweaty palms until it formed a tiny ball. A little nothing of a thing. But there was
still the bullet. She couldn't turn it into a insignificant wet wad. No matter what she did, it would remain hard and
lethal.

And my special friend, the one who's always watching me, he has lots more bullets. I could be walking to school
tomorrow and bam. I could be in the caf and bam. I could be back in my own bed tomorrow night and bam. No place
is safe for me.

Eat in the weight room or eat in the cafeteria? Anthony asked himself as he left English class. The answer was
easy. He wanted to eat whereverMarcus wasn't. Hearing Marcus go on and on about Rae wasn't something that got
the appetite going. In fact, it made him want to spew. So I'll do a fast check of the The sensation of his butt being
slapped made Anthony's brain sputter, the thought left uncompleted. He turned around and saw Yana grinning at
him, her blue eyes sparkling. "I had to come over and do that," she told him.

"You had to drive here from your school to grab my butt?" Anthony asked, automatically checking the hall for Rae.

Not that he was doing anything wrong.

"Well, that, and to take you to my favorite taco place for lunch," Yana explained. "Three of those rolled ones for a
buck. My treat."

"I'm there," Anthony said. Yana had started leading the way out of the building before the words were out of his
mouth. She's pretty freakin' confident, Anthony thought.

And why shouldn't she be? Like he'd say no. It was damn flattering to have a hot girl like Yana go out of her way to
be with him. She was always showing up-at practice or even dropping by his house. And he was always glad to see
her.

Except… except did her showing up all the time mean that she was thinking… Anthony didn'tknow exactly what to
be afraid she was thinking. Who knew what went on in a girl's brain? But was she thinking something like that they
were a couple? Or that she was falling in love with him? Because that-that would suck.

As he and Yana headed across the parking lot toward her Bug, she looped her arm around his waist and gave his
side a light squeeze with her hand. He'd never thought such a small touch could affect him like that, but with Yana…

Focus, Anthony told himself. Focus using your head. If she is thinking that something-what's the girl word?

Serious. If she's thinking something serious is happening between us, then you've got to shut her down. Anthony
climbed into Yana's car and slammed the door.