Dark Angel: Skin Game (18 page)

Pleased with how this was turning out, Alec sped off toward that checkpoint.

The line waiting to pass through was mercifully short and they sat for only a couple of minutes before the checkpoint cop—an athletic young man with brown hair and a ready smile—waved them forward.

"Good morning," the cop said.

Alec said, "Morning. Jam Pony messengers." He held up his ID, hoping to hell the guy just glanced at it and didn't check it through the computer, where it might be flagged.

The cop's smile disappeared. "Thought you guys rode bikes."

"We do, or anyway we probably will again. But after the hostage thing with those damn transgenics, boss made us team up and take cars. Safety in numbers kinda deal."

"Makes sense. You can't be too careful with those freaks running around."

"Hell no," Alec said firmly.

Leaning down, the cop looked through the window at Joshua sitting in the passenger seat in his red motorcycle helmet. "What's his story?"

With a quick grin, Alec explained, "He's worried about getting hit in the head."

"Yeah, head," Joshua mumbled through the helmet.

"Had a bad run-in with a mugger with a brick, last week." Alec leaned out and his tone turned intimate. "God only knows what another head shot would do to him."

The cop nodded. "Guess you guys do hit some rough neighborhoods."

"Yeah—me, I wear a cup."

"Don't blame ya," the cop said with a chuckle. "Get movin', fellas."

"Yes, sir," said Alec as he pressed the gas pedal and got them slowly, steadily the hell out of there.

The school, long, low, and brick, crouched in the middle of a huge, surprisingly well-tended green lawn. To Alec, sitting in their car parked across the street, the building looked like a museum piece, a postcard from a past he'd seen only in photos and on video.

"So," Alec asked, "you know where he is in there?"

"Never been to school," Joshua said ambiguously, as they both got out of the car.

"No matter," Alec said, "we'll find him. How many places can there be to look? What's his name, anyway?"

"Hampton." His motorcycle helmet still perched on his head, Joshua came around the car to the driver's side. "Maybe Joshua should go alone."

Alec tried to figure out where the big guy was headed with this one. "Why would you think that?"

"Alec might scare Hampton."

Alec managed not to laugh in Joshua's face. "You're kidding, right?"

"Hampton is passing, Alec. You show up, an X5 ... that might scare him. Make him blow his cover."

"What about havin' you make the scene, big guy?"

Joshua's eyes went wide. "Hampton knows me."

"Only you never dropped by school here before, did you?"

"You think having Joshua show up would scare him? Maybe I should leave the helmet on."

"Definitely leave it on. But we're both gonna go—all right?"

Alec took Joshua by the arm—no more inane discussion—

and they crossed the street, strode through the front door, and Alec immediately realized that this job could be a lot tougher than they thought. A corridor ran perpendicular to the door— it seemed to go on endlessly in either direction; looking both ways, he saw entrances to hallways that ran perpendicular to this main one. He guessed that this main hall probably had a twin at the other end of the building.

This was going to take a while.

Directly across the hall from them was a door marked

OFFICE.

"Should Alec go one way and Joshua another?" the dog man in the helmet asked.

Alec knew a bad idea when he heard one, and turning Joshua loose on his own devices was definitely one. The real question was which was riskier, separating and maybe finding Hampton sooner, or staying together and risking exposure by being in the building longer.

"We should stay together," Alec said.

"Which way, then?"

The questions never got easier. Sighing, Alec said, "Wait right here—I'm going into the office. Maybe they'll know where Hambone is."

"Hamp-ton."

"Whatever. I'll be right back."

Joshua nodded and hugged the wall, trying to make his six-foot-six-inch frame look inconspicuous.

Alec crossed the hall, opened the door and walked into a long narrow room halved by a counter. To his left, as he came in, empty chairs lined the wall and, to his right—just past the end of the counter—a closed door beckoned, the top half pebbled glass with the words VICE PRINCIPAL painted in black letters on it.

To his far left, laid out in the same fashion, he saw that door's twin with the word PRINCIPAL stenciled on it. Beyond the counter, as if guarding the wall of cubbyholes behind

her, a huge woman at a small desk sat in a tablecloth of a floral dress, her gray hair piled high on her head, the ghost of some long-ago trend in hairstyles.

"May I help you?" she asked in a high-pitched small voice that didn't suit her body type in the least.

It was Alec's opinion that these ordinaries could do with a little DNA tampering themselves.

"Jam Pony messenger. I'm looking for a Mr. Hampton. I believe he's a janitor here."

The woman nodded, making various chins collide, forced herself to her feet and trundled toward the counter. "I don't see a package."

"My partner has it outside."

She looked unimpressed. "Employees are not allowed to receive personal items here at the school."

"Ma'am, I don't know anything about that. If you could just tell me where to find him—"

"You'll need to sign in first, then sign back out when you leave." She glanced toward a clipboard with a pen chained to it. "And Mr. Koopman will be informed about this."

"No skin off mine," he said, picking up the pen and looking down at the graphed paper. Beside Name he wrote "Reagan Ronald," put down delivery as the purpose of his visit and "Janitorial" as his destination.

"Janitor's room is down the main hall. Take a left up the first hall, then he's the third door on the right. If Mr. Hampton is not there, I don't know where he is."

"Thanks for being so helpful," he said, in a manner so faintly sarcastic, he hoped she'd be thinking about it for a long time.

Outside, Alec waved at Joshua and the big guy fell in step next to him.

"And I thought Manticore was bad," Alec said, not liking the school experience much so far.

"School people tell you where Hampton is?"

"Where he probably is." Alec didn't bother to tell Joshua about the woman's negative reaction to Hampton getting a personal delivery. Some things were better left unsaid.

Walking briskly, the duo turned left down the shorter hallway. Most of the doors were closed, so no teacher or pupil faces looked out to see them. The third door on the right stood ajar. They could see a man Alec's size with dark hair and a tidy goatee—another X5.

Not surprising—pretty easy for X5s to pass.

The guy was bent over a sink, filling a bucket, completely engrossed in what he was doing.

The sink occupied the right wall of the tiny room; brooms, mops, buckets, and the like stood like a rack of rifles along the back wall. You could take the boy out of Manticore, but you couldn't take Manticore out of the boy.

When Joshua said, "Hello, Hampton," the guy nearly jumped out of his skin.

Joshua—now a step into the cramped janitor's room— removed his helmet. "It's okay, Hampton. It's me—Joshua."

The X5's brown eyes were wide with shock and displeasure. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Hampton stepped past Joshua and tried to pull the door closed, but smacked it into Alec.

Nostrils flaring, Hampton demanded, "And who the hell is this asshole?"

Joshua said, "This asshole is Alec. He's another friend. X5."

Hampton's anger gave hard edges to his sarcastic smile. "Great! Happy to see you, bro—come on in. Let's have a party."

"Thanks," Alec said, and stepped in, pulling the door closed behind him.

Turning his attention back to Joshua, the janitor said, "You know I'm trying to pass.

What the hell's the idea—"

"That's why we came," Joshua said. "So no one would know."

Hampton looked at Alec for help.

Alec said, "We figured you'd rather talk to us than the cops or maybe the feds."

The janitor's frown dug deep grooves into his handsome face. "What the hell's this about?"

"Take it easy," Alec said. "Just hear us out."

Hampton let out a deep sigh, forcing himself to calm down. "Okay, fellas—just make it quick, okay?"

Joshua looked at Alec, prompting him to take the lead, and the janitor turned his attention toward Alec too.

"Here's the deal, Hampton," Alec said in a rush. He knew the guy didn't want them there one second longer than necessary. "You've seen the tube—somebody's killing people. And skinning them."

The janitor nodded. "Couple of 'em cops. Sure. What the hell's that got to do with us?"

"Could be Kelpy," Joshua put in.

Hampton's face turned long and pale and sad—as if Joshua had just told him his brother had died. "Oh, damn.... You sure?"

Alec shook his head. "No. But the cops think a trans-genic's responsible, and Joshua thinks this Kelpy might be ... disturbed enough to be doing this weird shit."

"Men in uniforms," Joshua said, "were mean to Kelpy in the basement."

"I bet," Hampton said dryly.

"We need to find him," Alec said. "And at least talk to him."

Looking up at Joshua, Hampton said, "And you boys thought I'd know where to find him."

Joshua said, "Yes."

"Guys, I'm sorry. Haven't seen him for a while."

"How long?" Alec asked.

"A month, maybe two. And he was getting pretty bizarre at that."

"Bizarre how?"

Hampton shook his head. "Being human was all he could talk about—the only thing that mattered to him anymore."

"Passing for human?" Joshua asked.

"No—being human."

"We are human," Alec said.

"Not exactly," Hampton said.

"Anyway," Alec said, picking up the prior thread, "you say you have no idea where he is? Can't you give us a lead, anyway?"

Shrugging, the janitor said, "Kelpy had an apartment over in Queen Anne."

Alec said, "Isn't that where you live, Hampton?"

"Yeah, on Sixth. Bobby's place is on Crockett."

"Bobby?"

"Yeah. He uses the name Bobby Kawasaki. Only a few of us know about Kelpy."

"Bobby Kawasaki... you're shitting me."

"No," Hampton said, frowning, "I'm not. Why?"

"Nothing," Alec said.

But really it was something: Alec knew the name.

It belonged to a Jam Pony messenger. He'd heard Normal call out for the guy before; but for the life of him, Alec couldn't put a face with the name.

"Can you give us Kelpy's—Bobby's—address?"

Hampton did.

"Thanks," Alec said, and turned back to his towering companion. "Better put your helmet back on, Joshua."

But before Joshua could take that advice, the door to the small room swung open.

Alec turned to see a skinny man in his late fifties, in shirt and tie, his hair short and gray, his brown eyes huge with fear as he stared up at Joshua's helmetless head.

"Oh, my God," the man squeaked. He tried to shut the door but Joshua came running out, knocking the visitor

aside. Alec turned and immediately punched Hampton in the face, and the janitor crumpled to the floor in a heap. Joshua stood in the hall, aghast, as Alec slipped into the corridor as well.

The guy in the tie snatched a walkie-talkie off his belt and held it up to his mouth.

"This is Vice Principal Koopman— they're here\ The freaks are here—they must be trying to grab the children!"

Alec ripped the radio out of the guy's hands and threw it against the brick wall, smashing it into a thousand pieces. Then he and Joshua sprinted up the hall, into the main corridor and out of the building.

Once the car was a safe distance from the school, Joshua asked, "Why did you punch Hampton?"

"To protect his cover. They'll think he was fighting us. He'll be all right."

Joshua nodded. "That went sideways."

"Yes, it did."

"FUBAR."

"FUBAR, indeed," Alec said.

The X5 knew that once this made the news, Max would be righteously pissed, and there would be hell to pay. The only way to make this better was for them to find Kelpy or Bobby, or whatever the hell he was calling himself now.

The sector cops would be looking for them, and having to go to Queen Anne meant five more checkpoints to clear, which meant the smart money was on stealing a different car. In a grocery store parking lot, Alec traded the gray Catbird for a maroon Ford. They passed through the checkpoints with no real trouble and finally got to the address Hampton had given them for Kelpy.

The odd couple climbed the stairs to the eighth floor, and found Kelpy's door seventh down on the left. No light was visible under the door, but Alec was through taking chances for the day. Using the old Manticore hand signals, they came up with a plan. Alec slid to one side and pressed himself against the wall. Still wearing the helmet, Joshua stood in front of the door and knocked.

"Pizza," he said.

There was no response from the other side.

Knocking a second time, louder this time, Joshua repeated, "Pizza."

Still no one came to the door.

"Fine," Alec said. "We do it the hard way."

"Hard way?" asked Joshua.

Easing his friend aside, Alec used burglar tools—two picklocks—on the door. Soon the two were standing within a small studio apartment, as silent as it was dark.

Alec hit the light switch, but the dim forty-watter overhead did little to improve the gloom inside the tiny flat. "Not exactly living high, wide, and handsome, is he?"

Joshua said, "Not high, not wide," clearly not knowing what he was saying.

Alec dispatched Joshua to start on the kitchen side, while he handled the other. They took their time, moving ahead slowly, hoping not to miss any bit of evidence that would either prove Kelpy was the killer or exonerate him. After checking the stove, Joshua opened the refrigerator door and stood, staring.