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Authors: Will McIntosh

Burning Midnight (19 page)

BOOK: Burning Midnight
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CHAPTER 28

“Turn right up here,” Hunter called to Dom from the backseat. They turned down a stretch of road lined with cyclone fences and dotted with businesses: a concrete supplier, a cabinet factory, a transmission repair shop.

“Here we go,” she said, pointing at a dirt driveway. The beat-up sign out front read
DELL'S AUTO WRECKING AND SCRAP METAL.

“I'll go ask them for something so they don't get suspicious,” Mandy said, heading for the office. It had taken some cajoling from Dom to get her to come. That she would miss out on retrieving a fortune in spheres if she didn't tag along probably helped as well.

“What are you going to ask them for?” Dom asked.

“I don't know. A carburetor for a 1994 Chrysler LeBaron.”

Dom pointed at her. “Nice car. Convertible or hardtop?”

“What do you think?” she called over her shoulder.

Hunter led them through rows of junk vehicles at a jog, to the back of the football-field-sized space. She stopped by the back fence, in front of a school bus that was more rust brown than yellow, with no back wheels.

“What are you seeing?” Sully asked. “What do they look like to you?”

“It's like an overlay. I see everything just the way I used to, but I also see what the Gold is seeing: the spheres are colors floating in space; the rest is just wedges of colored light that twist and angle. It doesn't see the bus at all.”

Trying to imagine what that would be like, Sully followed Hunter through the bus's open door and gripped the bar at the top of the steps.

The seats were piled with engine parts. Hunter went straight for the back, knelt beside the second-to-last seat, and dug around in the springs and padding under the seat.

When she stood, she was holding a Mustard.

High IQ. Rarity nine.

Dom let out a whoop that came straight from his belly. He raced to the back of the bus. “Can I see it?”

Hunter handed it to him.

“Oh, my God.” Dom lifted the Mustard and kissed it. “We're so rich. We're so freaking rich.” He threw his arms around Hunter. “I'm so sorry I doubted you. You were so right, and I was totally wrong.”

Hunter patted Dom's back. “There's more where that came from.”

Dom spun, tossed the Mustard to Sully. “Think fast.”

Sully snatched the sphere out of the air. He held it up, admiring it. A Mustard. He never thought he'd hold a Mustard. He stashed it in his pack.

They followed Dom back to the car.

“I don't think we should sell them all,” Hunter said to Sully as Dom headed into the office to fetch Mandy. “We should burn some.”

Sully was startled by the thought. He'd been thinking purely in terms of making money. “You said burning spheres meant taking living things inside you. I don't know if I like that idea.” He'd already burned the Teals, though, so it was kind of a moot point. Still, after what had happened to Hunter, the things Mandy had said about there being no free lunch were making more sense.

“I told you—they can survive in our world only if they're inside us, hitching a ride in our brains. They've got a personal stake in us staying healthy and happy.”

“Then why did the Golds make you flip out?”

Bundled in her parka, Hunter raised one golden-bronze eyebrow. “Because it's in my head, and I can feel it there, and it's really weird. They're using our brains, you know; they're locked right into us. But they mean well, and it's getting easier for me. I'm understanding it more and more.”

How many people had burned spheres without anything bad happening? Something like two billion? Sully had always envied the kids who could speed-read, the track stars who'd burned Seafoam Greens.

“There's another Mustard maybe an hour from here,” Hunter said. “We can head in that direction, pick up others along the way.”

Burn a pair of Mustards? The idea made Sully's head spin. What were a pair of Mustards worth? But they already had an apartment full of spheres, and more on the way. As many as they wanted.

“You can sense a Mustard from an hour away?” Sully asked, finally registering what Hunter had said.

“It's getting easier.”

Dom and Mandy were laughing as they exited the office, Mandy carrying what looked to be a carburetor.

“Hey, guys,” Hunter said. “We're gonna burn some. In a few days me and Sully are gonna take a long trip, and we can use every edge we can get.”

“Are you still talking about finding the Midnight Blue?” Mandy asked.

Hunter nodded.

Mandy put a hand on the Camry's hood. “Look, if you're going to find it so we can sell it, I'm all for that. But I don't think we should screw around with burning these big ones anymore after we almost lost you.” She gestured at Sully's backpack, where the Mustard was. “We can get all the marbles we want. Why risk screwing it up?”

“I have to agree with Mandy on this one,” Dom said. “We've got a good thing going here. A
great
thing.”

Hunter held up a finger. “You're forgetting something. It's not just the four of us in this.” She poked her chest. “The thing living inside me wants this. Bad. And
it's
showing us where to find these marbles, not me.”

Dom considered this.

“Is it saying it'll stop telling you where to find marbles if you don't go after the Midnight Blue?” Mandy asked.

Hunter shook her head. “Not exactly. It's begging more than threatening.”

On that note, they climbed into the Camry and headed toward the parkway.

Sully had always known the explanation for the spheres' appearance had to be something unbelievable, something that would change the world, but not knowing what it was had kept the strangeness from getting too overwhelming.

When the spheres first appeared, it sent shock waves around the world. On TV, experts and pundits had debated where they came from all day. As the years went by, though, and no solid answers to the mystery materialized, everyone started taking the spheres' existence for granted.

Beside him, Hunter reached into the basket of commons they'd picked up along the way, plucked out two Tangerines, and pressed them to her forehead.

Sully was about to ask why she'd just burned a couple of commons that did nothing but let you mimic sounds, when Hunter said, in a near-perfect impression of Dom, “Hey, there's a Burger King. I could use a burger and fries.”

Everyone laughed except Dom, who said, “Come on, that doesn't sound anything like me,” as he pulled into the Burger King.

—

Sully reached over to Hunter's hand resting on the seat and laced his fingers with hers. The contrast of his white fingers and her gold ones was mesmerizing.

“Will you come with me to get the Midnight Blue?” Hunter asked, her voice low. Dom and Mandy were joking around up front.

“Where is it?”

She closed her eyes. “India, I think.”

“India?” Sully couldn't even find India on a map. “Are you sure we have to do this? Can we at least put if off for a year or two?”

Hunter shook her head. “I can't put this off.”

The truth was, the Midnight Blue made Sully uneasy. There was almost no way Holliday was going to let them have the matching Midnight Blue, but what if he did? Mandy was right: burning the Gold had nearly driven Hunter crazy, and now she was going to try to burn the other oversized spheres? It was Russian roulette.

“I'm not sure this is such a good idea,” he said.

Hunter lifted their hands to her chin. “Please, Yonkers. I'm scared, but I know going after the Midnight Blue is the right thing to do. You said you loved me. Well, I love you, too. I don't want to do this without you. I'm not sure I
can
do it without you.”

Part of him wanted to put the brakes on, but another part wanted to keep going. There was no getting around it: his life was deeply intertwined with the spheres. He'd made a living off them, he'd discovered two of the rarest in existence, and now they were about to make him and his friends rich.

He was worried about Hunter, but if she was sure she had to do this, and the spheres wanted it, Sully would stand by her. And them.

“Okay. We've gone this far; let's see it through to the end. Or at least as far as we can.”

Hunter grinned, looking relieved. “Thank you.”

She kissed him. Her words echoed in Sully's ears as he kissed her back.

Well, I love you, too.

Hunter loved him. They were rich. Sully realized he'd never had a moment in his life that was so perfect.

CHAPTER 29

As the limo pulled up to the terminal, Sully was terrified that as soon as Hunter stepped into the line at the security checkpoint, she'd be whisked off by TSA officers. Maybe it wouldn't take that long—maybe the first police officer who saw her would come running, gun in hand.

“Ready?” Sully asked as the driver opened Hunter's door.

She took a deep breath, wiped her sweaty palms on her knees, and nodded. “Cool and badass, like it ain't no big thing.” She definitely looked the part of a model, in heeled boots, black pants, and a black leather jacket that reached her knees. Her gold skin was brilliantly offset by the black outfit.

A valet hurried over to take their bags as they climbed out of the limo and headed for first-class check-in. His heart in his throat, Sully forced a big smile and tried to act like there was nothing strange about his gold-skinned companion, like they flew all the time. The truth was, Sully had been on a plane exactly twice, both times to visit his grandma in Florida, and Hunter had never been in an airport in her life. Sully had walked her through the process from check-in to baggage claim, and they'd watched a YouTube video for newbie fliers, so she could pass for someone who flew all the time.

People stared. People whispered. Thanks to the Turquoises he'd burned, Sully could hear what they were whispering:

“Is she someone?”

“Is that, like, a new look? Is it makeup, or spray paint?”

“What's wrong with her?”

Airport security did not come running with guns drawn.

As the moments ticked by, Sully relaxed a little. He took a deep breath, reveled in how wonderful he felt—strong, quick, smart. He could read the departure screen at the far end of the terminal, probably a thousand feet away. He could smell the onions and green peppers from the Western omelet a passing businessman had eaten for breakfast. He felt like a superhero, and had the biceps for the part.

The employee at the check-in counter, a black Caribbean woman, asked what Hunter's coloring was for.

Hunter tsked, as if the whole thing was such a bother. “I'm doing a commercial. The makeup artist is in New York, the shoot in Calcutta. What are you going to do?”

“Have a good flight,” the woman said, smiling, as she handed over their tickets.

As they turned away, Sully took Hunter's hand. It was clammy with sweat, but you'd never know she was nervous from the way she was speaking and moving. She was a good actress.

And so it went, at the security checkpoint, at the gate, on the flight.

What else were people going to think—that Hunter's skin, hair, and eyes were really gold? Who would possibly believe that?

CHAPTER 30

Having spent his life on the outskirts of New York City, Sully thought he knew bad traffic, but Calcutta traffic was like nothing he'd ever imagined. He watched as a periwinkle-and-yellow city bus—with passengers hanging off the sides and sitting on the roof—nudged its way past their hired car. There didn't seem to be any
lanes,
just an endless tangle of vehicles.

Hunter was looking out the back window. She was dressed in an orange-and-gold sari and veil, her hands covered with gold silk gloves. “I think we're being followed.”

The words jolted Sully. He scanned the crush of vehicles. “Where?”

“See the white Volvo?” She pointed.

It was ten or so vehicles behind them. “How can you tell it's following us in this mess?”

“I'm pretty sure I saw the same car parked outside our hotel last night. I noticed it because white Westerners got out.” One of those little details that you mostly forgot, unless you'd burned a Canary Yellow. Sully peered through the hazy, exhaust-filled air, trying to see the Volvo's occupants. It was a man and a woman, and they did look like white Westerners. Could Holliday's people have possibly tracked them all the way to Calcutta?

Why not? He'd tracked them to Mexico City with no problem.

Sully leaned toward their driver. “Naman? Can you take us on some side roads, even if it takes a little longer?”

Naman nodded. “No problem.” Naman had offered his services as a driver/tour guide inside the airport, and to their surprise had been waiting when they stepped out of the hotel the next morning. Sully was grateful to have help from someone who knew the city and spoke the language.

They turned right at the next intersection, onto a slightly less congested street. The sidewalk was lined with tiny plywood stalls covered with tarps, where people seemed to be selling anything and everything. There was trash everywhere. A boy sat on the curb washing in the water from a partially opened hydrant.

“There they go. They're not following.” Hunter was still watching out the back window.

“Maybe they just don't want to be too obvious,” Sully said. “They could be tracking us by satellite, like in Mexico.”

They parked a block from the temple. As they walked, everyone seemed to be staring. A young boy reached out and grasped at Hunter's sleeve. She yanked her arm away as Naman said something to the boy in rapid Tamil. Or maybe it was Hindi. Sully couldn't believe how many languages were spoken here.

It was a strange place. He doubted he would like it if they were doing it on the cheap, with no guide, having to flag down auto-rickshaws to get from place to place. But with fifty grand on a debit card, the place was awesome. The room they'd stayed in the night before had a freaking waterfall. It had bugged Sully to take the thirty percent hit required to sell a cache of spheres so quickly (to a private local collector he had contacted through Craigslist), but they'd needed the transaction to be fast and simple, and $850,000 was still a nice payday, even after Dom's and Mandy's cuts.

A woman stepped in front of Hunter, said something to her. Before Naman could get between them, the woman lifted Hunter's veil and let out a sharp cry of surprise. After the airport arrival and sari shopping, Sully wasn't exactly getting
used
to intrusions from strangers, but they didn't surprise him anymore.

Naman backed the woman up, repeating the same word, which Sully guessed was “makeup,” but others surged in to fill the void, speaking excitedly and clutching at Hunter's veil.

“Get
off.
” Hunter slapped at their hands, turning her face away.

Naman grasped Hunter's arm. “Hurry. This way.”

They ran, weaving through the crowd, leaving the excited, high-pitched shouts behind.

There were monkeys swinging in the trees around the temple. Honest-to-goodness monkeys. The branches of the trees laced together to form a canopy over the temple.

“Quick, I need five hundred rupees.” Naman held out his hand. “Foreigners aren't allowed inside the temple. We will have to make a contribution to convince them to bend the rules.”

At the current exchange rate of forty-six rupees to the dollar, five hundred rupees was ten dollars and eighty-seven cents. It gave Sully such pleasure to calculate that in his head. He pulled a crumpled wad of rupees out of his pocket and found a five-hundred-rupee note.

Naman approached the guard at the temple's entrance as Sully and Hunter hung back. Naman couldn't have been more than two years older than them, but he seemed a lot older, probably because he knew the city so well, while they were like lost kids in this foreign place.

Sully dabbed at the sweat already gathering along the back of his neck and glanced at Hunter. “Are you hot in that?”

“What do you think?”

The rupee exchanged hands. The guard waved them in.

“This way,” Naman said, putting an arm around each of them and corralling them through the gate.

Leaving behind the crowds, they passed under a colorful arch into a courtyard with a fountain in the center and statues of various gods along stone paths. Monkeys chattered in the trees.

“What kind of trees are those?” Sully asked.

“Banyan,” Naman replied without looking up.

Hunter led them right to the fountain, which was more pond than fountain, with ornamental grasses around the edges and lily pads floating in the water. She gestured to Naman to hang back; he nodded, gave them some space. On the way from the airport he'd asked about Hunter's coloring, but hadn't asked anything about what they were doing in Calcutta.

Hunter unzipped Sully's pack. “If anyone asks what you're doing, tell them I dropped my earring in the pond. You're trying to find it. Dig where I drop the earring.”

“How deep?” Sully asked.

“Not deep.” She held her hands about six inches apart.

Hunter leaned over the edge of the pond as if admiring a lily, touched the side of her face, and dropped one of the gold elephant-god earrings she'd bought at the hotel gift shop. It plopped into the pond and kicked up a tiny cloud of mud when it reached the bottom.

“My earring,” Hunter said, loudly but not too loudly.

“I got it.” Sully knelt, setting his pack down, and sank his fingers into the mud. It was loamy and gave easily. He scooped up a handful, set it aside without taking his hand out of the water, then dug deeper and set that mud aside.

He was beginning to suspect Hunter had made a mistake, when his fingers brushed that unmistakable smoothness. Scrabbling, he got his hand around the sphere and pulled it free.

“I got it. The earring.” He pulled the mud-covered Midnight Blue from the fountain, stuffed it in the pack, and zipped the pack, his movements lightning fast thanks to the Peaches he'd burned.

Slinging the pack onto his back, he stood and stuffed his hands in his pockets so no one would see the mud on his right hand.

“Shall we go?” he asked, smiling.

“Yes. Let's have lunch. I'm getting hungry,” Hunter said.

They strolled down the temple's concrete steps, back into the chaos of the street.

“Give me the pack,” Hunter said, holding out her hand.

Confused, Sully handed it to her. It blended with his jeans and New York Mets T-shirt much better than her sari.

Holding it by the strap, she headed down the sidewalk.

“Miss Hunter,” Naman said, pointing. “The car is this way.”

Hunter kept walking.

Sully hurried after her. “Where are you going?”

“I'm going to get the matching Midnight Blue.” She sounded perfectly confident.

“What are you talking about? It's in New York. And anyway, Holliday's not going to give it to you.”

“I think he might, if we handle this right.”

Then Sully spotted the white Volvo, parked at the curb. Hunter was heading right toward it.


Wait.
What are you doing?”

She turned to face him, walking backward for a second. “You'll see.” She stopped beside the Volvo.

The car's tinted window lowered, revealing a woman with black-rimmed hipster glasses in the passenger seat and a bald man in the driver's seat. Both white Westerners.

Hunter dropped the backpack into the woman's lap. “Once Holliday figures out this is useless to him, tell him to get in touch with us and we'll show him how they work.”

Looking startled, the woman raised the window. The Volvo roared off.

Sully stood watching, dumbfounded.

“That was kind of cool,” Hunter said.

“What did you just do?”

Hunter headed toward Naman, who was waiting outside the temple. “After Holliday tries everything he can think of to burn them and it all fails, what is he going to do?”

Sully didn't answer. He was still trying to absorb what Hunter had just done. It had happened so quickly.

“He'll come to us. And once I convince him that he'll never be able to burn them, I'll offer to trade him a buttload of marbles for his Midnight Blue.”

Sully stopped walking. Hunter stopped as well.

“You think maybe you could have consulted me first? I mean, we traveled halfway around the world to retrieve that sphere, and you just dumped it in a stranger's lap without even asking my opinion.”

She seemed surprised by his anger. “The whole plan came to me as we were leaving the temple, when I saw the Volvo parked there. There wasn't time.”

“Yes there was. Chances are they would have been parked outside our hotel when we got there.”

Hunter drew her veil back from her face, serious now. “ ‘Chances are.' I didn't want to take that chance.”

People began to stop and stare at Hunter, so she and Sully started walking again. Sully still couldn't believe Hunter had just dropped the Midnight Blue into that woman's lap. Since she'd burned the Golds, Sully had occasionally wondered if Hunter was still completely Hunter, or if he was talking to the alien as well as the girl he knew. Her most recent move convinced him that she was still herself. This was classic Hunter. Head down, charging like a bull, not letting anyone tell her what to do. Not even her friends.

Still, he was shaking. They'd traveled thousands of miles, spent thousands of dollars, and she'd tossed the Midnight Blue away less than three minutes after they found it, without a single thought of Sully.

“Look, I am not your sidekick,” he said. “I'm not Tonto, or Robin. Stop treating me like I am.”

“I'm
not.
” She brushed stray braids out of her face. “I'm just trying to do the right thing. Do you understand how high the stakes are? If I can get the Midnight Blues from Holliday, there are going to be so many marbles that people like Holliday won't be special anymore. There'll be big marbles that do epic things. I don't know what those things are, so don't ask.”

Naman opened the car door for Hunter, looking perplexed.

They drove off in silence. Sully stared out the window, still fuming. Yes, tons of new spheres that made it so people like Holliday couldn't hog all the best ones sounded good to him, but he wasn't sure he agreed with Hunter's tactics. And what if she was wrong about what the Midnight Blues did?

“I warned you,” Hunter said.

“About what?”

“That I wasn't girlfriend material.”

“This isn't about that, though. It's about our business relationship.”

Hunter shifted to face him. “No, it isn't. I asked you to trust me and come here so I could do what I needed to do. This trip was never about money and business.”

She had a point. They'd never talked about selling the Midnight Blue if they found it. Sully reached over and took Hunter's hand. “All I ask is that we talk things out, make these decisions together.”

“I'll try.” She squeezed his hand.

Sully wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his sleeve. His head was spinning. If Hunter was right about the Midnight Blues, what would the world look like if they managed to get both?

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