Narc (24 page)

Skully called out from the edge of the party crowd, “Morgan and Aaron sitting in a tree … ”

“You’re a coward,” Morgan said.

“Don’t say that.”

“Isn’t it true?”

“What the fuck, Morgan? You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“You?” she said. “Why don’t you go back to wherever you came from and stop fucking with my life?”

“I didn’t want this job. I got roped into it. Now I wish I never came here. But I’m also glad I did it. I got to see things in a different light, you know? Start over.”

“Yeah. By faking it.”

“Everybody is fake,” I said. “That’s what school is all about. If you don’t fake your way through it, you won’t survive.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she said. “You ratted us out.”

“Then why did you come?”

“For them.” She peered back at the others. “They wouldn’t listen. They just think, ‘Oh, crazy Morgan. She had a fight with some boy.’ All those rumors, but they wouldn’t believe it was true when I told them.”

“Told them what?”

“That you’re a narc.”

I glanced at the fire, wishing I could be there, with the others, laughing. Not knowing what was coming. I watched Finch lift a branch from the flames and raise it high, like a torch. Through my tunnel vision I could see that the old-fashioned gun was still strapped to his belt.

“He’s not your friend, you know. He’s waiting to take you down,” Morgan said.

I refocused on her and pulled out my cell. “See this? It was given to me by the cops. Once I figured out that Finch was calling the shots, I could have bailed. But I didn’t.”

“Am I supposed to believe that? How can I believe anything you say?”

“I could call them right now.”

“You don’t even know where you are,” she said.

And she was right. “Fuck you. I’m so over this.”

I jumped down, landing on all fours. Pain zinged through my knees, but I barely noticed it. There must have been something else cut into that blunt I smoked earlier. I stared at the tree, and it seemed to quiver.

“Shit.”

I tried to focus on the maze of branches. Anything to steady myself. But it wasn’t just my old glasses messing up my vision. Now the leaves were multiplying. I looked at Morgan, perched there, and it’s as if I knew what was cooking in her mind. I looked at the bonfire, the people in costumes huddled around it, and I knew their thoughts, too. I took out my cell again and pictured the radio waves lacing the air. The phone was poison. I chucked it, as far as possible, into the bushes. I grunted loudly as it crashed, and everyone stared.

“Have a good look,” I shouted. “Go on, you poseurs. All you fake-ass people. I know what you’re thinking. Why don’t you say it to my face?”

“Not here,” Finch said, stepping out from the group of people. “You wanna talk, little piggy? Let’s roll.” He stood and brushed the ashes off his jeans.

“Fine,” I told him. I had to do this, even if he beat the shit out of me. It was my chance to lead Finch away from the girls. Where the hell were the cops already?

Morgan screamed, “Don’t go,” but everything had dimmed to a blurry distance. I was floating high above it.

Her voice faded away. The fire shrank to a pinpoint. Finch marched ahead, snapping branches into my face. I kept walking, only looking at his back in front of me. When we finally reached a clearing, he stood near the water, as if considering a dip.

“I’m gonna speak real slow, cause I know that pigs have a hard time understanding plain English,” he said. “You got two choices. Run. Or swim.”

“Thought we were going to talk.”

“Why should I listen to a smartass narc who butts into other people’s business? I’m making some mad cash flow here, but I ain’t hurting nobody. Just give the rich bitches what they want. A little Mary J. A little Kryppie. If they don’t buy from me, they’ll score it somewhere else. At least I didn’t jack their trust, the way you did. Pretend to be tight with the homies.” He dragged out the word. “Did you get any play from it, man? Did Morgan put out? Or Skully? Or did you bang them both?”

I swung at his face with my now tingling arm, but Finch dodged it easily. My knees wobbled. The trees bent and spun. Then Finch slammed a roundhouse punch into my chest. I staggered back, wheezing. He knocked the wind out of me again. I sank to the ground. When I finally summoned the strength to lift my head, I saw Brent coming toward me with a stick.

“Brent,” I called out.

He pivoted, like he was going to nail a golf ball, and the stick smashed into my shoulder, ripping through my shirt and skin with the rough bark. I groaned as Brent pummeled me over and over until I blacked out for a moment. I spat a mouthful of blood and dirt and squinted at the two boys towering over me. Finch was actually filming this with a mini DV camera. No doubt he would post the footage over the Internet and brag about beating the shit out of the narc.

Finch passed the camera to Brent. They laughed and mumbled, stepped back and surveyed the damage. They were drunk, but I was no match for the two of them, especially after smoking that A-bomb and whatever Finch cut into it.

“Hey, Captain Save-A-Ho,” Brent said, aiming the camera in my face. “Smile.”

My ribs ached. Every muscle in my body thudded with dull pain. Tiny white fireworks exploded in front of my eyes.

“That’s enough,” Brent said. “Just leave him. It’s over.”

Finch reached for his gun. “It ain’t over yet.”

“Come on,” Brent said.

Finch waved the gun at him. “Get out of the way.”

Brent opened his mouth, but changed his mind. “Hurry up and waste that god damned snitch.”

“I got a better idea.” Finch shoved the gun at Brent. “You do it.”

Now Brent was shaking so hard, he couldn’t keep the gun steady. Finch wrestled the camera away and pointed it at me.

I looked up at Brent, trying to read his zombie expression, and thought about the time we played video games together, that night at the gallery. That thing he said about his dad hitting him. All the rage inside him. Then me and Finch, shooting targets in the backyard. Bet this didn’t seem any different to them.

“Brent,” I said, hoping he’d snap out of it. He looked at the gun, then at me. Behind him, the bushes snapped and rustled, and there was Haylie, barging her way toward us. She had no clue what was going on. She just stood there in her stupid cheerleader costume. I saw her face change as she slowly figured out that I was in trouble. That we were all in trouble.

Brent turned near Haylie, the gun still in his grip.

Finch snatched it away from him and took aim at me.

“Stop it, stop it,” Haylie screamed, running to me.

I lunged to my feet and tried to stop Haylie.

He fired.

The blast kicked up sand near my head. I flinched at the burst of light and noise.

Another blast. The gun went off and Haylie staggered back. She sank down, crumpled in the dirt, her mouth open in a silent shriek.

If I ever hoped to run away, there was no chance in hell now. White hot pain bloomed throughout my entire body. Somebody was screaming. It took a second before I realized it was me.

Finch shot again. His aim was off, which was surprising because he stood at point-blank range. He gazed into the distance, then he bolted.

I mustered enough energy to crane my head, and then it was clear why Finch ran.

The trees were burning.

26 :
Swamp Rats

I was bleeding in the sand, watching the flames twist and curl against the horizon. Even from a distance, the heat was intense. My arm was scraped, my glasses gone. I managed to drag myself closer to the shoreline, but what good would it do? There was no place to go.

Birds of all shapes and sizes scattered across the sky. I choked and gagged on the minty smoke. All the wet burning plants leaked poison into the air. My eyes watered as I tried to make out shapes in the pines.

This was my fault. I’d barged my way into other people’s lives, just like Finch said. They had confided in me, trusted me with their secrets, and I’d turned my back on them. I just never imagined it would go this far. I thought I was doing something good. I saw myself as a peaceful warrior, but now I couldn’t tell what was right or wrong, real or fake.

I kept my eyes on the birds rocketing in every direction, and they were the most amazing things I’d ever seen. For once, I didn’t have to think. I could just lie there. All of a sudden, I was so damned tired.

Where was my sister? That’s the only thought that brought me back to reality. What if she got hurt? Or worse. God, this was all my fault. If anyone deserved to die, it was me.

Somebody grabbed my hand. I must’ve been already dead because I was looking at an angel, wings and all. Only it wasn’t an angel. Skully. And she wasn’t alone. Haylie was there, too, and behind her, Morgan.

Haylie’s sleeve was stained dark just above her left bicep. A bullet must’ve grazed her skin. Shit. I snapped back to reality. Even with a shallow wound, it was dangerous, losing that much blood. We had to stop the bleeding. Fast.

“My brother is missing,” Skully said. Her face was slick with tears.

“Listen. He’s here somewhere. First we need to make a tourniquet,” I told Haylie.

Haylie sat on the ground. “Everything is spinning.”

“Just sit tight. Try not to move.” I tugged my sweatshirt over my head. This was bad. Really bad. I folded the sleeves and clamped down on Haylie’s arm until the bleeding slowed a bit.

“They taught us how to do this in Health class,” she said. “We need a stick so we can tie the sweatshirt around it.”

“That’s right,” I said. Her voice shrank away. All I heard was a metallic ringing in my ears.

Morgan appeared with a tree branch. She helped me tie the tourniquet. The girls were putting up a decent front, but I knew they were freaking out. To be honest, I was, too.

“The shoreline is the safest place right now,” I said. “Do you think we can get over there?”

The girls plunged into the water, Skully helping Haylie hold her bandaged arm out of the dirty water. There was no telling what was lurking in it. Gators and snakes. Morgan sobbed quietly. Her dress swelled like a parachute as we treaded farther out. I bent down and kissed her, though I knew this wasn’t exactly the right time.

We held each other as the fire raged in the swamp. Plumes of pale smoke rose as solid as columns.

“Somebody’s coming,” Skully said. She waded back toward the shore, then stopped as another figure appeared.

Sebastian limped toward us. His face was pale and sweating. Just looking at him, I knew he was sick. He clutched his stomach and groaned.

“Oh, my god. Did you drink alcohol?” Skully was near-hysterical, frozen in place.

“Hey, you’re bleeding,” he said to Haylie. His words were slurry and faint.

“You know you’re not supposed to drink. Are you insane? Your blood sugar just crashed and now your numbers are wrecked. Where’s your flash-lancing thingie?”

“I forgot it,” he said.

She whipped around to us. “Does anyone have candy on them? Anyone? Please tell me. Someone’s got to have candy.”

Nobody moved.

Sebastian wasn’t alone. Brent stood behind him, his face twisted with fear.

I reached out and we pulled Sebastian into the water. Skully sobbed as she clung to her brother. I glanced at Brent, and he looked away.

“You’re a piece of shit,” he told me.

“Okay. Fine. What happened to everybody?”

“They took the airboat.”

“Where’s Finch?” I asked.

“Gone,” Brent said.

“You mean, they ditched you?”

Brent stared at the murky surface. “No way am I going in there.”

“We have to keep moving,” Morgan told him.

He didn’t budge. The girls tried to grab his hands, but he shook them off.

“Just go,” he said.

Morgan looked at Brent, then at me.

“Come on,” I said, taking her hand.

We left him behind on the shore and sank deeper into the muck, inching our way through the tangled lilies. Who knew how much longer we could keep paddling? It wasn’t that deep, but I’d heard stories about kids drowning in the weeds, if the gators didn’t snatch them first. Haylie would be the first to go, since she was the smallest and bleeding.

“What’s going to happen to us?” Morgan asked.

I gave her a squeeze. “It’s cool. Everything’s cool,” I whispered. Another lie, but at that moment, I almost believed it.

After sloshing around in circles for a while, I couldn’t figure out if we had gone the same way before. Without a flashlight or a fire, the Everglades have a way of swallowing you up. When the girls wandered too far ahead, they disappeared, as if the blackness hadn’t simply covered them, but zapped them to another dimension. Luckily they stopped until we could see them again.

“This is insane,” said Morgan, clutching her purse under one arm and punching buttons on her cell. “There’s no bars on my stupid phone. Nobody knows we’re here.”