Croak (28 page)

“You don’t know my parents. If I don’t go back of my own volition, I bet you anything they’ll drive up here themselves and snatch me right out of the ether.”

“Maybe home will be better. It’s gotta be cheerier than it is here,” Elysia said gloomily, watching the newest group of dazed-looking souls entering through the tunnel. “Even those guys are better off. Ignorance is bliss, right?”

Lex froze. “Wait a minute,” she said, keeping her eyes on the distraught newcomers. “Why
can’t
the souls remember their deaths?”

“The tunnel. It automatically represses that specific memory until they’re able to deal with it.”

“So it’s not because of the Elixir in the fluff here?”

“Nope. Elixir doesn’t cause amnesia. If it did, we wouldn’t have to milk the spiders.”

“Spiders . . .” Lex jumped to her feet and took Elysia’s shoulders. “Elysia, listen to me. Think back to the beginning of the summer, before I got here. Can you remember anyone coming in here and removing Elixir?”

Elysia smiled confusedly. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, that’s all kinds of illegal. I’d scream my head off. That’s the whole point of my job, other than wrangling the presidents.”

A loud shout sounded from inside the office. Lex paused, then turned back to Elysia.

“Think hard,” she continued, breathing heavily. “Are there any days that you can’t remember? Like, maybe you lost track of a few hours?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Edgar said.

Both girls turned to him. “What?”

“One day, someone came in here and took a bunch of these silly clouds,” he said. “You
did
scream your head off, but then you sat at your desk for a while without saying anything. I remember specifically because it was the day Eleanor Roosevelt threw a teapot at me—”

“What are you talking about, Edgar?” Elysia turned to Lex. “I do
not
remember that.”

“Lex!” Driggs shouted from the other room. He sounded panicked.

Lex lunged for the vault door, then turned back to Elysia. “Ask around. Find out if anyone in here saw who it was.” She flew through the door and into the office, where Driggs stood holding a broken test tube, an equally stunned look upon his face.

“Amnesia,” they said at the same time.

“
That’s
why Kloo and Ayjay couldn’t remember anything!” Lex said.

“I thought Kilda was just being Kilda,” Driggs said. “But she was right, it’s practically all gone. The murderer must have taken it from the Lair—”

“Then stolen Elixir from the Afterlife—”

“Then drugged Ferbus and Elysia to make them forget the whole thing!”

Ferbus let out a shout. “I’ve never been drugged!”

“You wouldn’t remember if you
have,
” Lex shot back. “That’s the point!”

“But—but—”

Lex and Driggs stared at each other for a moment more, then tore down the stairs (prompting a “What the hell?” from Norwood), out of the Bank, and into the pounding rain.

They burst through the door of the library just as the meeting was starting. Uncle Mort and everyone else in the room turned to look at them.

“Took Amnesia—stole Elixir—Afterlife—” they wheezed.

“Slow down,” said Uncle Mort. “What happened?”

Norwood and Heloise appeared at the door behind them, followed by Ferbus and Elysia. Driggs took a deep breath and began to describe what they had figured out, all to a chorus of surprised rumblings from the townspeople.

“I asked around in the Afterlife,” a sopping wet Elysia piped up. “But only a couple of souls saw it happen, and they couldn’t see who was under the hoodie.”

“Okay,” said Uncle Mort. “Thanks, Elysia.”

“You’re
thanking
her?” Norwood burst in. He and Heloise were so furious, steam was nearly rising from their wet heads. “These kids are to blame for the whole thing!”

“How could you let this happen, you little ingrates?” Heloise spat at the visibly shaken pair of Ferbus and Elysia. “You have
one
job to do!”

“Heloise,” Uncle Mort interrupted. “They haven’t been here as long, so their immunity against Amnesia isn’t as strong as that of the Seniors. That’s probably why they were targeted. It’s not their fault.”

“Oh, bullshit.” Norwood sneered. “Don’t you get it, Mort? This is what comes of hiring all these useless amateurs! I’ve been saying it for years, and now look at the mess they’ve gotten us into!”

“Can it, you pompous gasbag!” Pandora screeched. “I don’t see anyone else trying to figure out what’s going on here. These kids are the only ones out of all of you who give a damn!”

“But they saw the deaths from the start and didn’t tell anyone!” a new voice shouted.

All eyes flocked to Zara, who had jumped to her feet.

“Sorry guys,” she said, looking at Lex and Driggs, “but enough is enough.” She pointed at them and addressed the crowd. “Those two were the first, then the other Juniors joined in. You should have found out about this weeks ago, but they wanted to figure everything out by themselves. And Mort helped them, he’s been scheming along with them the whole time. And you know what else he’s not telling you? The victims aren’t random at all—they’re being specifically targeted because they’re criminals!”

Driggs cursed under his breath. “You
told
her?”

Lex gave him a guilty look.

“Sofi!” Heloise’s shrill voice rang out. “Have you been helping them?”

Sofi, quivering in her seat, could barely speak. “I—I didn’t know—”

“Oh, of course you didn’t!” Norwood spat. “None of these brats know a goddamn thing! These two can’t even watch a door,” he said, gesturing at Ferbus and Elysia. He pointed to Kloo and an eye-patched Ayjay. “These two can’t stop sucking each other’s faces long enough to realize they’re being attacked.” He then stuck a finger into Lex’s face and turned to Uncle Mort. “And if you think for one second that this niece of yours is even remotely—”

“
Enough
!
” Uncle Mort thundered. The room went silent.

When he spoke again, his voice was calm but firm. “Yes, Lex and Driggs were the first to see the abnormalities. Yes, they were assisted by Sofi and the other Juniors. They came to me—admittedly, later than I would have preferred—and described what they had seen. I allowed them to continue because I thought it was best to contain the situation and involve as few people as possible. I stand by that decision.”

Norwood swore.

Uncle Mort ignored him. “As for the victims, Zara’s right—it would seem that the majority of them are criminals. But as you’ve all read in the paper over the past couple of days, Grims are now being targeted as well, which is why it’s more important than ever for us to come together like this. I called this meeting to discuss what everyone’s been seeing, to gather our information together, and to try to make some constructive headway—not to point fingers. We don’t have time for this petty, melodramatic bullshit. So we’re going to continue with the meeting as planned, and if you don’t like it, you’re free to leave.”

Norwood and Heloise did just that, slamming the door on their way out. Everyone else remained, though a distinct air of unease settled through the room as the discussion began.

Lex, meanwhile, was so mad at Zara that she could have strangled her with her own stupid silver hair. She scanned the seats and spotted Zara glaring at her—an activity that Driggs also seemed to be enjoying.

“What?” Lex quietly snapped at him. “What did I do?”

“I can’t believe you told her.”

“Oh my God,” she said, rolling her eyes. “This is so high school. I’m gonna go cry into my locker.”

“Forget it. We’ll talk later.”

“Good idea. That’ll give me time to consult my cootie catcher.”

***

The meeting continued into the night, and although there were no more outbursts, it was clear that Norwood’s words had struck a chord with the townspeople. Their hostility became so apparent that by the end, Pandora had to sneak the Juniors out the back door so they could slink away to the Crypt in peace. All except for Zara, of course—who happily stayed behind to field any questions the Seniors had for her, the Most Responsible Junior in Croak.

Lex couldn’t bear to face Uncle Mort, not after betraying his trust like that. So she ducked out of the meeting as soon as it was over, ran straight to her bedroom, and didn’t come out until the next morning. Unfortunately, since Driggs stayed in his own room, pounding at his drums with a renewed ferocity, she ended up all alone with her uncle at the breakfast table, the awkwardness sitting between them like an ugly homemade centerpiece. She eyed him carefully, waiting for him to rip her a new one, but the scolding never came. He didn’t even look mad.

“Here’s a fun question,” she said, hoping to preemptively distract him. “Why are Norwood and Heloise allowed to treat us like crap?”

“Because they’d probably firebomb the Bank if they couldn’t,” Uncle Mort said, flipping through the newspaper. “They’re just set in their ways. Never been fans of the Junior program.”

“Can’t you fire them?”

“Lex, if everyone with a bad attitude got fired, the postal service would cease to exist,” he said. “Norwood and Heloise are the best at what they do, and have undeniably earned their places here. Eventually, so will you.”

Lex was indignant. “I’ve already earned my place here!”

“See,” he said, looking up, “that’s exactly the kind of arrogant thinking they loathe.”

She grimaced and gazed into her cereal. Yet Uncle Mort kept staring at her, as if the solution to some overly complicated puzzle lay in the contours of her troubled young face. “Lex,” he said at last, slowly running his finger along his scar. “How’d you like to help me catch this bastard?”

Her mouth fell open. “What? How?”

He got up and paced across the room, coming to a stop at the sink. “I have an idea. It’s dangerous and comes with a high probability of failure. I assume you’re in.”

“Obviously!”

He walked into the living room, beckoning her to follow him. He waded through the accumulated junk on the floor to a small, dusty closet and opened the door. Lex squinted down at the familiar boxy object within.

She looked at him, stupefied. “Is that what I think it is?”

He nodded.

They headed back to the kitchen table, where Uncle Mort spent the next several minutes carefully outlining his plan. He made Lex repeat the details back to him three times, then instructed her not to proceed until he gave her the go-ahead.

“And lastly,” he said, “the million-dollar question. Can I trust you with all of this?”

“Of course! How can you even ask me that?” She shrank slightly. “I mean—look, I’m really sorry about Zara. But she was the only one I told, I swear.”

“
You swear?
” Uncle Mort’s entire demeanor changed so quickly, Lex actually recoiled. “Don’t play games with me, Lex,” he growled. “You think I don’t know about your little blabfest with Cordy?”

She went cold.

“You think all this surveillance equipment is just for decoration?” He gestured at the satellite dishes sticking out of the window, then leaned in and grabbed Lex by the elbow. “The only reason you are sitting at this table right now is because I’ve chosen to ignore a
very
large number of
very
serious Terms regarding Grimsphere disclosure. If you weren’t my niece, you’d have gotten kicked out of here so fast you wouldn’t even remember your own name, let alone where you’ve been all summer. What you did is inexcusable. You put Croak in danger, you put yourself in danger, and worst of all, you put Cordy in danger.”

He let go of her arm, but his gaze did not soften. “So yes, I need to ask for your trust. I need your word that everything we’ve just talked about stays between us,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “No more second chances, Lex. I can’t protect you anymore. If you screw this one up, you’re outta here. For good.”

Lex stared back at him, floored. “Okay—” she stammered. “I mean, yes. Yes, you can trust me. I won’t tell anyone.”

He crossed his arms and watched her for a moment, then finally relaxed his gaze. “Except for Driggs, right?”

“No! I won’t!”

“You should.”

“What? But you just said—”

“He’s your partner. It would be cruel to keep him in the dark. And isn’t that what he’s so pissed off about right now? Something you neglected to tell him?”

A furious series of cymbal crashes issued forth from Driggs’s room, as if to confirm this.

Lex scowled. “I’ll think about it. But he’s going to freak out. He freaks out over everything I do.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

She clapped her hands over her ears as the din got even louder. “Why did you ever let him get those in the first place?”

He winked. “Stress relief.”

“Another geezer, huh?” Lex said to Driggs a few days later, over a man attempting to blow out each and every one of his eighty-eight birthday candles. “Nothing left to live for, you think? Bingo night get canceled?”

Driggs ignored her, much as he had since the meeting.

“Come on, Driggs, I said I was sorry,” Lex said, Killing the man with the tip of her elbow. The shocks were getting to be too much for her poor hands to handle; she had begun shifting the duties to other parts of her body. “When are you going to start talking to me again?”

Driggs said nothing as he Culled.

Lex watched him, her stomach knotted. He’d been giving her the cold shoulder for almost a week now, and it didn’t feel good. At all. The extra silence was giving her far too much time alone with her thoughts, all of which inevitably swirled right back to Zara and the fire incident, a once-shelved issue that, ever since the meeting, had festered and swelled until she could think of little else. Something had to give.

“I set a pizza box on fire,” she blurted.

Driggs blinked. “What?”

As soon as they scythed back to the Ghost Gum, Lex told him everything—how she and Zara shared the same shocks, why she had told her about the criminal pattern, and, finally, what had happened in the kitchen. “I’ve been trying not to think about it, trying to tell myself that there’s a perfectly logical explanation, which I’m ninety-nine percent sure there is—but what if there isn’t?” She looked at him with worried eyes. “What if I really did it?”