Out of This World (40 page)

And there on the stage is Josh. Not moving and there's way too much blood.

“Oh, Josh,” Marina says, her voice so soft I can only just hear her.

Tears well in my eyes.

I can't believe this is it. That he's gone. I keep waiting for him to jump up the way he's supposed to have done in that taquería after he got shot point-blank. But I realize that's not going to happen.

Marina is starting to shake. I hesitate a moment, then put my arms around her. She buries her face against my shoulder. A moment later Donalita shows up. Her arm goes around my waist and she leans against my side.

I can't take my eyes off of Josh.

I can't believe this is real.

I'm vaguely aware of Agent Solana stepping across the stage.

“It's okay, Sean,” he says to the Secret Service guy. “He's with us.”

Sean gives a quick nod, then lowers his gun and turns to where one of the other members of the security detail is helping the congressman to his feet.

Chaingang lowers his arms, but otherwise, he doesn't move. He just stands there like me, staring at Josh. Then he gives his head a shake and starts toward the stairs by the corner of the stage where the handcuffed shooter is being held face down at ground level.

Matteson stops him before he can go more than a few steps.

“I'm sorry,” Matteson says. “I really am. But you can't touch her.”

Her?

Marina and I turn in the direction of the prisoner, whose back is to us. The hood is down and we can see spikes of short blond hair.

“I only need a moment,” Chaingang says.

Matteson shakes his head. “She just took a shot at a US congressman. Where she's going, no one's going to see her for a long, long time.”

“If you want to keep her in custody, you'll let me talk to her.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it. She stepped right out of nowhere. She came from the otherworld. First chance she gets, she'll step right back and you guys'll be standing around with your dicks in your hands and no prisoner.”

“And you can stop that from happening?”

“You bet your ass I can. I just need a few words with her. You won't like what you're going to hear, but you're welcome to listen in.”

Matteson studies Chaingang for a long moment.

“I know you're hurting,” he says. “I get it. She killed your friend. But you can't lay a hand on her—you understand that, right?”

Chaingang nods. “But you might want to get your Secret Service buddies out of earshot.”

I hear someone growl as Matteson and Chaingang move away toward the stage. At first I think it's Donalita, but then I realize that Lupe has joined us. She's staring at Josh's body, her lips pulled back, a dark look in her eyes. I get the sense she's about to shift into her dog form and rip into something. But she gets a grip on herself.

“Say the word,” she tells Marina, “and we'll take down the one who did this.”

Marina shakes her head. “That … that won't bring Josh back.”

Matteson leads me to where the two Secret Service agents have their prisoner by the corner of the stage. I get a big-cousin
ping
from one of them and I can tell by the way his eyes narrow that he's reading me. I forgot about the cousins on the congressman's detail. Lot of good they did.

A half-dozen crows are perched on the scaffolding that holds up the tent covering above the stage. From the corner of my eye I see Cory. He's helping someone to their feet, but his attention's on me. I see other cousins all around.

“This is Theo Washington,” Matteson says as we approach. “He's been consulting with us on this, and it was one of his men who first took down the shooter. He needs a word with the prisoner.”

“Not going to happen,” the human of the pair says.

But the cousin reads something in my eyes.

“Check with Sean,” he says. “See how the congressman is doing. I've got this.”

They lock gazes for a moment, then the human shrugs and goes back up on the stage.

“You've got two minutes,” the cousin tells me.

“Only need one,” I tell him.

I can't tell what kind of cousin the prisoner is, but I'm getting a familiar
ping
as though I know her. Even though she's cuffed behind her back, the Secret Service man is holding her by a bicep.

If the prisoner tries to step away into the otherworld, she's still going to be in handcuffs and she'll be dragging a cop with her. But she isn't always going to be under such close watch. Soon as she's alone in a cell, she'll be gone.

“Listen, bitch,” I tell her. “I know what you are. Now here's the deal. You're going to stay in custody and you're going to take whatever's coming to you. You try to shift away, and I'll hunt you down.”

She turns her head sideways, looks me in the eye and says, “I thought you were supposed to be dead.”

I can't believe what I'm seeing. It's Elzie. There was Josh, going through who knows what kind of hell to save her, and she's the one who offs him. All I want to do is put my hands around her neck and squeeze the life out of her until her eyes pop out of her head.

“You killed my bro, but I'm going to play this by the book and let the authorities deal with you. But you make a break for it and I'll go after your family. Josh said you have a little brother. I'll hunt him down and you can forget the idea of him ever growing up. Your parents, grandparents, will all be history, too.”

I can tell Matteson's not happy with what I'm saying, but the Secret Service cousin gets a grim smile.

Elzie gets an anguished look and tears start to roll down her face. “Josh wasn't supposed to be there. I warned him that innocent people might get hurt if they got in the way. Why did he do that?”
The tears mean nothing to me. I still want to strangle the bitch.

“Because,” I say, “he had more courage and integrity than any of you and your asshole crew ever thought of having.

“So you understand what I'm saying?” I add. “About your kid brother and your folks? Am I getting through to you?”

She looks at me, chest hitching, weeping in earnest now. The Secret Service cousin applies some pressure to her bicep.

“Answer the man,” he says.

She nods. “I understand. I'm sorry.”

I turn to Matteson. “I'm done here,” I say.

Then I walk away.

People have gotten over their panic and are starting to come back to gawk at what's going on. I see Fat Boy and Para near the front of the crowd. Guess he knows I wasn't bullshitting him now. I take a step toward him and the pair of them back away into the press of people.

I start back to where Marina and the others are, but I don't know where to start with the mess this has become. Josh dead. Elzie the shooter. Marina breaking up with me. The whole business of her affiliation with the local dog clans and what happened back at the compound.

I end up just standing there watching Des comfort her. One of the dog clan is on the other side of Marina. When she feels my gaze, she looks in my direction and bares her teeth. So much for letting bygones be bygones.

J-Dog and Tall Boy join me.

“You okay, bro?” J-Dog asks.

I'm anything but.

“I'm fine,” I tell him. “Let's get the hell out of here.”

I can't stop the tears. Every time I think I've got them under control, I look at the rough grey blanket that someone put over Josh and they start up again. Finally Des puts his arm around my shoulders and turns me away from the stage.

There are cops and ambulances everywhere, sirens wailing. After the panicked rush died down, crowds of gawkers came back, all of them talking at the same time, aiming their phones at the stage, at Elzie, at themselves to prove they were here.

Elzie. I couldn't believe my eyes, it's all so wrong.

I'm having a hard time trying to tone down the cacophony of sound.

Des tries to walk me away from the stage. “We have to go,” he says.

I swallow hard, then manage, “We can't just leave Josh.”

“We don't have a choice—not unless you want to jump onto the stage and whisk him into the otherworld, and then what'll you do? Dude, we have to go.” Des tries to lead me away.

Before we push through the crowd, I take one look back. Theo was over by Elzie. Now he's gone, and so is she and her guards. The agents must have put her in a car and driven away.

Police tape is going up everywhere and cops wearing plastic gloves are going around looking for evidence or whatever. There's a photographer on stage taking pictures of Josh before they put him in the body bag that's right beside him.

I rub the heels of my hands into my eyes and try to get my breathing to even out. All the people jostling around are driving me crazy. All I want to do is climb up on the stage and hold Josh's hand.

“Marina?” Des says.

I finally turn to him. “Where will we go?” I ask. “I can't go home. As soon as I go home, it'll be like I'm in prison.”

“I can get you out of anywhere anyone puts you,” Lupe says. “And I'll make them sorry for hurting you.”

I shake my head. “No, this is my family. You can't do anything to them. But Mamá's going to go ballistic.”

“Yours and mine,” Des says. He looks pale. I know it's because of what just happened to Josh.

He puts a hand on my shoulder and again turns me away from the stage. This time I let him lead me away. Lupe and Donalita walk in front of us, parting the crowd. When I start to sob again, Des pulls my head against his shoulder, but he keeps us walking.

I don't know how long we walk or where we go. I just know that the crowds thin out, which makes it a bit easier to not feel so crazy. But each step also takes us farther from Josh, about to be zipped into a body bag with no one who really knows or cares about him at his side. A fresh wave of grief washes over me.

“Here,” Des says. “Sit.”

I blink and look around. We're at the end of a parking lot,
standing by a picnic table under palms, with only the boardwalk and sand between us and the ocean. I stare at the swells as they come in, automatically judging their height. I stare at the dark waters. The sea otter wants me to shed my human skin and disappear into them. To swim as far and deep as I can and never resurface.

I sit on the bench. Lupe sits beside me, Des is across the table. Donalita paces restlessly around us. Finally she stops at the end of the table.

“I don't believe it,” she says. “The Thunders made all these different Wildlings until they got one big enough—Josh—but only to stop that fat old white dude from being killed? It doesn't make any sense. All the hurt and heartache Wildlings have gone through for
this
?”

Lupe nods.

“They should have just let the congressman take the bullet,” Donalita says.

I shake my head. “Don't say that. When you say that, it makes Josh's … death … meaningless.”

“What he did wasn't,” Lupe says. “What he did was brave and selfless. It's
why
he had to do it that makes no sense.”

Des nods. “I kind of see where you're coming from. Householder's life would never have been in danger if Wildlings hadn't existed in the first place. And when you think how many lives have been screwed up by this … Kids being pushed out of their families, getting diced up and killed, or killing themselves …”

“Nanuq needs to pay for this,” Lupe says. “But he's a formidable foe. Old, old school. He could break us all like twigs.”

“So what do we do?” Des asks.

I sigh and stand up.

“We go home,” I say, “and face the music.”