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Hawk’s throat went dry.

“It’s okay; you don’t have to answer me. I thought maybe, you know, since you’re all techie and stuff, you’d know more than I do.”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because I think I might have been given one without knowing about it.”

Hawk started pouring syrup onto his totally uneaten pancake.

“You’ve got a little lake forming there,” Faith said, pointing her spoon in the direction of Hawk’s plate. Hawk set down the syrup bottle and cut a corner of pancake free, stabbing it with his fork. He swirled it around in circles in the slop on his plate, which made him look like he was high or stupid or both.

“Forget I asked,” Faith said, shaking her head and standing to leave.

“No, it’s cool. Really, I just—well, I just hope you’re not in any trouble is all.”

A kid Hawk’s size always had a certain level of paranoia, sort of like a Chihuahua trying to make a go of it in a family of four or five people without getting stepped on. But the pressure was definitely getting to him. Word in the halls was that Wade Quinn was looking for him; and whatever he wanted, it might involve rearranging Hawk’s face. And now Faith was asking questions he wasn’t sure how to answer.

“How would I know if I’d been given a Wire Code?” Faith asked quietly, sitting back down and leaning over the table toward Hawk.

“You’d know.”

“How?” Faith asked. “Are there side effects? Like, is it possible I’d forget stuff?”

“Maybe. The first time can be unpredictable. How much does it feel like you can’t remember?”

Faith shifted in her seat uncomfortably. She hated talking about her symptoms even more than having to grovel for information.

“Honestly? I can’t remember anything from the night with Wade. It’s a total loss.”

Hawk understood more than he was saying. He knew the only way blank-slate memory loss occurred was if a person took a second Wire Code before the first one wore off. He also knew a dosage of that level, especially for a newbie, could cause irreparable brain damage. And there were other side effects, too.

No wonder she hadn’t come to school for a week.

“Have you had headaches, right here?” Hawk asked, touching the center of his forehead.

“Yeah, feels like someone hit me with a hammer.”

“Thirsty?”

“Totally,” Faith said, and to prove it, she drank all the extra milk in her bowl and licked off the milk mustache.

Hawk didn’t ask anything else, but Faith could tell she had her answer by the way all the color drained out of his face and he wouldn’t look at her.

“So Wade gave me a Wire Code; you’re sure?”

“I don’t know
who
gave it to you. But yeah, you had a Wire Code. No doubt.”

Faith was angrier than she could remember ever being in her life. She wanted to find Wade Quinn and slap him across the face.

“That’s what I thought,” Faith said. Her voice shook with frustration at what she’d let happen to her. “Why would Wade do that to me?”

Hawk had a pretty good idea, but he didn’t think it would help the situation to tell Faith what it was.

“I don’t know,” he chose to answer, because it was the only marginally safe thing to say. His stomach churned as he looked at the puddle of syrup on his plate. When he glanced up again, Faith had already left. Hawk couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that it was the second Wire Code in quick succession, not the first, that made a person lose their memory. He’d told the Quinns never to do that because it was risky. The things a person did after experiencing two Wire Codes could be unpredictable and at times violent.

What was Wade Quinn trying to hide?

Chapter 10
The Smallest Guy in the Room

Hawk found Wade before Faith did.

“Why’d you do it?” Hawk asked. Wade was alone on the practice field, holding a metal handle attached to a four-foot-long chain. An iron ball, which was sitting in the grass, was attached to the end of the chain.

“Busy here,” Wade said, not looking up as he swayed back and forth. “I’ll have to rearrange your face in a second.” The hammer throw was Clara’s best event, but Wade was having some trouble mastering it. Working with the hammer always put him in a bad mood.

“My finger is hovering over a
SEND
button,” Hawk said, undeterred as he stood his ground a few feet away. “It’s not the kind of message you want going out.”

Wade shifted his gaze from the iron ball in the grass to straight up the length of the long, rarely used football field. “You know how far it is to the other end?”

Hawk felt a cool breeze blow against his shaggy hair, sending a chill through his body. “I can ruin you, Wade Quinn. Just tell me why you gave Faith two Wire Codes.”

“It’s a hundred and twenty yards, long ways,” Wade said, staring back at the iron ball and tightening up the slack in the chain. He began to spin around in a circle, and the ball rose up in the air as he turned faster and faster. When he let the handle go he yelled, and the ball and chain ripped through the air like a rocket. Hawk couldn’t help backing up a step or two as he watched it sail wildly through the air and land somewhere near the other end of the football field.

“Next time I’m going to throw that thing at
you
,” Wade said. He had moved silently within two feet of Hawk and yanked the Tablet out of his hand. Hawk knew he should run, but the idea of leaving his Tablet behind was more than he could deal with.

“You were serious?” Wade asked dubiously. He stared at the Tablet screen and realized that Hawk was about to send a message to the authorities about Wade’s Wire Code usage. “You were really going to rat me out. Would have gotten yourself busted right along with me. Dude, you must be sick in love.”

“Shut up, Wade.” Hawk surprised himself—his voice sounded so angry. “She was just a conquest for you; is that it?”

Wade’s emotions were already fragile. He’d been unable to find Faith Daniels, and he needed to know how she was doing, because deep down he did like her more than he was willing to admit. This stupid kid had some bad dirt on him. And on top of all that, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that maybe there had been eleven, not ten, Drifters that night.

“Our conversation is going to be a lot more useful if this thing isn’t distracting you,” Wade said. He whistled sharply, then held the Tablet over his head like a marker.

“What are you doing, man? Seriously, give me back my Tablet. I won’t send it. Just leave her alone; that’s all I’m asking.”

“You act like you’ve got some control here, sport,” Wade said, “That’s like a joke, right?”

Hawk jumped up and down, practically climbing up the side of Wade’s leg trying to reach his Tablet. It wasn’t until Wade pushed him hard to the ground that Hawk heard the scream from the far end of the football field. He hadn’t seen Clara there before—she must have been standing off to the side—but she was there now. She was staring at the hammer that was flying through the air in Hawk’s general direction. If he could have made out her face, he would have seen that she was concentrating feverishly on the iron ball as it flew.

“Sort of pisses me off,” Wade said casually. “She can really throw the hell out of that thing.”

He held the Tablet out to Hawk, and Hawk thought for a brief instant that he might be able to get out of the situation unscathed. He reached out, already thinking about how stupid this had been and how fast he would run once he held the Tablet again. Just as his fingers touched the slippery glass, Wade pulled the Tablet away and flung it hard up in the air.

“NO!” Hawk shouted. He was up on his feet in a flash, running under the Tablet as it kept rising skyward.

If he’d been watching the hammer fly, he would have seen that it was about thirty feet from landing. He would have seen that as his Tablet was flying up in the air like a Frisbee, the hammer was changing course. It was turning to the right and rising, not falling. Hawk’s Tablet reached its apex, and all Hawk could think about was staying under it, catching it before it landed with a thud on the football field. Unfortunately for Hawk, when the Tablet was five feet from landing in his hands, the hammer smashed into it, trailed by the chain and the handle. The Tablet burst into glass and electric light, smashed into a thousand pieces as it showered Hawk with shrapnel.

Wade shook his head and looked thoughtfully at the hammer where it lay lifeless in the grass.

“She is good with that hammer. No denying it.”

When a Tablet split apart into so many pieces, it couldn’t fix itself. Hawk’s Tablet was gone for good.

“You’re the biggest a-hole in the universe,” Hawk said. He started to leave, but as he passed by, Wade grabbed him by the collar and held him firmly.

“Next time it won’t be the Tablet. It’ll be your face. I’m done with your Wire Codes. Some kind of bad mojo you’re brewing up. Let’s call it even and leave it at that. Tell me we have a deal.”

Hawk was so mad he was shaking. He wished he were a bigger guy so he could wrestle Wade Quinn to the ground and punch him a million times. He vowed to have his revenge but nodded his ascent. If Wade Quinn would have been smart, he would have taken Hawk more seriously, because people piss off geeks at their own peril. They know a thousand ways to ruin a life, and they have plenty of pent-up nerd frustration just waiting for a reason to get out.

Hawk pulled himself free and yelled, “When are you going to grow up, man?”

“Yeah, when are you?” Hawk heard Faith’s voice as she approached the field. All he could think about was how much he wished she would leave it alone. He knew her well enough to know that wasn’t going to happen, but he tried to shut her up anyway.

“It’s fine, Faith. Just let it go.”

Faith looked at Hawk as if to say
This isn’t about you. It’s between me and him.

Wade’s sister was walking up the middle of the football field. The scene was complicated enough, and he wished she’d just stay where she was. But then Dylan Gilmore appeared from the gym doors looking protective, and Wade started to feel outnumbered.

“Answer him, Wade,” Faith said. She shoved him in the chest with both hands, but Wade barely moved. “When are you going to grow up?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wade said.

“Sure you do. You gave me a Wire Code. What else did you do to me that I can’t remember?”

“It’s not what you think,” Wade said. “It’s complicated.” He wanted to explain what had really happened, but how could he tell her he’d wiped her memory because he’d killed ten Drifters—not because he’d taken advantage of her? So instead he turned the focus away from himself and onto Hawk. “He’s the one you want to talk to. He
makes
the stuff. And he told me it was a really low-level set of codes—nothing big, just a fun time.”

“You’re lying,” Faith said, but then she looked at Hawk and she just knew. “You didn’t,” Faith said, stunned and confused and angry.

“I’m sorry, Faith,” Wade said. “But nothing happened. We only kissed, that’s it. Seriously. When I figured out it was strong stuff, I took you home. I swear.”

Hawk was speechless. He had no words to convey his immense frustration and shame. It was true; he had made the stuff, but only because Wade had forced him to. His Tablet was destroyed, and it would be days before the Western State would send a replacement. And Faith, the only friend he had left in the entire world, was looking at him like he’d ruined her life. As Dylan Gilmore arrived from one side and Clara from the other, Hawk started running. He had to, because he knew it was only a matter of seconds before he started crying, and that was an embarrassment he wasn’t willing to risk.

Dylan arrived next to Faith at about the same time Clara arrived next to her brother. The four of them stood motionless—two on one side, two on the other—and stared at one another.

“Everything okay?” Dylan finally asked no one in particular.

“Everything’s fine, right, Faith?” Wade asked, reaching a hand out toward her. She backed off but stopped short of leaving altogether. Dylan saw the smashed Tablet and raised a dark eyebrow.

“I’m guessing that’s Hawk’s Tablet. Looks like it got hit with a hammer. Literally.”

Clara started laughing, but when she saw that Dylan responded with curious indifference, she swallowed hard and backed off. “Don’t look at me. I don’t even know that kid. It’s him you want.” Clara hooked a thumb at her brother and walked over to pick up the ball and chain.

“I’m doing this school a favor,” Wade said, playing a risky hand but feeling like he was all in whether he liked it or not. “He’s making Wire Codes, bad ones. I just put him out of business.”

Dylan shrugged like it didn’t mean much, then lowered the boom.

“I guess you’ll have to find another dealer then, won’t you? Too bad. I understand he was giving you what you wanted for next to nothing.”

Faith shot a glance at both guys and put up her hands. “I’ve had it with this place. You people are crazy.”

She started to leave, then turned and came back, standing in front of Wade. She looked up at him, and for a brief but fabulous moment, Wade thought she was going to forgive him. Then she slapped him, and the ringing in his ears sounded like a siren call.

“Don’t you ever trick me like that again. And leave Hawk alone. He’s just a kid.”

She turned to leave but found herself face-to-face with Dylan, which forced her to look into his eyes for a split second. They were dark, deep, and worrisome, like he thought she might have gone too far. Faith was sick of everyone at Old Park Hill, and as she stomped away, she made sure everyone knew it. “And tell your sister she’s a bitch!”

“I’m standing right here,” Clara said. She was holding the ball and chain like she might swing it over her head a few times and aim for the back of Faith’s head.

Dylan followed Faith off the football field as Clara stood next to her brother and handed him the hammer.

“Your turn to throw,” she said, looking at Dylan like she wanted to reach out, take his hand, and pull him away from Faith. All she could think about was how it would feel to have Dylan look at her that way, like he wanted her. There was something about his dark eyes and that solid frame that made her think the unimaginable: Would he ever be into someone like Clara as much as he obviously cared for Faith? But it didn’t change the way she felt: there was something about Dylan Gilmore that felt
powerful
—and she wanted it.