Over My Head (Wildlings) (19 page)

I ride a couple more blocks, then pull over into an alley to send Marina a text. I kill the engine under the shade of a Jacaranda tree and put the bike on its stand, but before I can get off, Vincenzo is beside me. He shows up out of nowhere. One minute I'm alone, the next big ugly's in my face.

"The boy is still alive," he says.

Right to the point, no small talk. But that's fine with me. The less time I have to be around this freak, the happier I am.

"Look," I tell Vincenzo. "I did the best I could. I led him into an ambush and the Kings freakin' killed him."

That earns me a frown. "Do you take me for a fool? I saw him walk out of the taquería with you."

"Yeah, well, the dying part didn't take."

"I don't find this amusing."

"And you think I do? I'm stuck between making sure some innocent kid gets offed or you killing my family. The last thing I want to do is piss you off."

He studies me for a long moment, then gives a slow nod.

"Tell me what happened," he says.

"There's not much to tell. One of the bangers shot him point blank, blew a hole in him the size of a fist. He goes down and there's blood everywhere. Then he changes into a lion and gets back up and the bangers are out of that place like the devil's on their ass."

He's nodding as I talk.

"I saw them come streaming out of the taquería. But how did the boy survive? Are you sure he was dead?"

"Not dead enough, apparently, but man, you don't just get up and walk away after getting hit the way he did. I heard him take his last breath. I heard his heart stop. But then he gets up all the same. I've never seen anything like it."

He's still nodding. "But there was no blood on him—on his shirt—when he came out with you."

"Yeah, we made some old guy in there give us a shirt."

"What old man?"

"How would I know? Just some old guy eating lunch. Go look for yourself. There's no way they've cleaned that place up already."

"This complicates everything," Vincenzo says.

"Look, you want me to keep going after the kid, I will."

"Let me think on it first."

"And the deadline?"

"Everything is on hold. I'll get back to you."

"Yeah, but my family?"

"They're all right for now. Unless I find out you've been lying."

And then he's gone again. But I know the trick he's using. He didn't just vanish. He stepped into the otherworld—the same one we ended up in when we did that frontal assault on ValentiCorp. I still haven't figured out how to make the sidestep into it, but then, I haven't been trying. Now I'm thinking that might be a useful trick to have hidden up my sleeve.

My phone's still in my hand, the screen blank. I wake it up and send a one-word text to Marina:
Cory
?

Josh

"Josh?"

Though he seems familiar, I can't quite place the clean-cut guy approaching the low adobe wall where I'm sitting. I've been waiting for school to finish so that I can go collect Ampora, amusing myself by trying to figure out if the hawk on the telephone pole is one of
los tíos
, a Wildling, or just an everyday hawk.

The guy coming toward me's not much older than I am, but he's decked out like an old man: chinos, golf shirt, loafers, hair trimmed short.

"It's Danny," he says, reaching out his right hand. "Danny Reed."

Even with the name, it takes me a moment to recall that this is Elzie's friend. Ex-friend. The one who sold out. The last time I saw him, he looked like a beach bum with dreads and raggedy clothes. No, scratch that. The last time I saw him, he turned into some kind of antelope and the FBI captured him. Except the whole thing was faked so that he could go undercover and finger Wildlings for the FBI. Elzie wouldn't say much about his betrayal, but I know it cut her deeply.

I deliberately ignore the extended hand. "I don't know what kind of bullshit you're selling," I tell him, "but I'm not interested."

"Look, I screwed up. I get that. Elzie was right. Nothing's going to be changed from the inside."

"It's not me you should be apologizing to."

"I get that, too, but I can't find her. It's like she dropped right out of the world."

Which is exactly what happened, but I'm not about to tell him that. The last thing we need is for the government to know about the pristine world sitting sideways from our own. A whole new world of natural resources they'd just plunder and spoil.

"I can't help you," I tell him. "I haven't seen her for a couple of weeks."

"Crap. Because that's not the only thing I need to talk to her about."

I look away, across the street.

"This other thing concerns all Wildlings," Danny says.

"I already told you, I'm not interested in anyth—"

"Yeah, yeah. You're all protective of her—I get that. I do. But you need to listen to me."

I stand up and point two fingers toward his eyes. "No,
you
listen to me. Get the hell out of here."

"You've heard about the Black Key Securities guys that are being killed?" he says as I start to turn away.

That stops me.

"What about them?" I ask.

"This isn't in the news, but they've found a third body, just like the others, torn up like they were killed by some kind of animal." He waits a beat, then adds, "Or a Wildling."

"I still don't get—"

"Let me finish—then you can walk away. That's not all. Some of the other men who were part of the same team have turned themselves in to protective custody, and this whole business is going to blow up in our faces."

"What do you mean by
our
?"

I wonder how much the FBI knows about what really happened down there in the ValentiCorp labs? Do they know I killed the head researcher?

"
Our
, as in you and me and every other Wildling. You know about Congressman Householder's little crusade against us?"

"I'm not an idiot."

He gives me a look that says he's not so sure of that. "Well, he's using these latest murders to get back on his soapbox. He's even claiming those kids you found were killed by Wildlings. He knows the quarantine is never going to fly, so now he's pushing for containment camps. He wants us all pulled out of the general population so that the government can contain the danger we represent."

"Can they actually do that?"

"They can do whatever they want—haven't you figured that out yet? The old air force base is going to become our own Guantanamo Bay. On the plus side, our Bureau Chief is pushing for voluntary Wildling registration, same as before. He says the only ones that are going to be 'contained' are those whose animal shapes are deemed too dangerous to be allowed to run around unchecked."

That would be me for sure.

"How would they even find us?" I ask. "There's no test that proves whether or not you're a Wildling."

Except then I remember who I'm talking to. I hope he's not wearing a wire.

"You're going to finger us for the FBI," I say.

"Hell, no. You think I'm crazy? I learned my lesson."

"Yeah, right."

"I don't care what you believe," he tells me, "but don't kid yourself. I won't be helping them, but it won't be hard for them to find others who will. A bunch of kids turned themselves in and they got all buddy-buddy with them. If Householder gets his way, anybody they nab who didn't voluntarily register will automatically go to the holding camp. Lindel—the Bureau Chief—is hoping to pre-empt Householder from bringing in this containment legislation because we know that's going to set off every Wildling in Santa Feliz. Lindel doesn't want the headache of trying to police the mess that'll turn into."

"What do think is going to happen?" I ask. "That all the Wildling kids are going to storm government offices? Get real."

"Look," he says. "You know and I know that's not going to happen. But the government doesn't see it like that. They see someone with power, they figure they're going to use it. Because that's what the government would do."

And I thought dealing with the Kings was a big enough problem all on its own.

Thinking of the Kings reminds me of the time. School's out and I need to get there.

"I've got to go," I tell Danny.

"Right. If you see Elzie, tell her what I said, and pass the word to the other Wildlings, too."

I nod. But not before I check with Solana. And for sure not before I get to the school.

I don't bother to watch what Danny does. I just take off for Sunny Hill.

Marina

I'm still trying to figure out how to get Julie out of the way so that I can deal with Erik when Erik starts shuffling down the hall toward us. I step in front of Julie so that he has to come at me first. But he doesn't attack. I don't think he was ever a threat. As he gets closer I can see that the crazy look in his eyes isn't I'm-going-to-kill-you crazy, but scared crazy.

"Look," he says. "I'm sorry—okay? Tell the guy I came and said I was sorry. Tell him to just leave me alone now."

The
guy
? What guy?

Then I remember Des telling me about what he and Josh were up to last night. How Cory went into Erik's house …

"What happened to you?" I say

"I—I …"

God, he's a mess. And when was the last time Erik was at a loss for words?

Julie touches my back of my arm.

"You're not actually talking to him, are you?" she asks.

"Look at him," I say. "He's not going to hurt anybody."

"Who cares? It's Erik Gess. Whatever happened to him, he deserved it."

But I shake my head. "We need to get him out of the hall before someone sees him."

Erik's just standing there, staring off into space while we're talking. Ignoring Julie's advice, I grab his shoulder and steer him toward the door of the girls' restroom. Erik doesn't offer any resistance.

"Make sure no one comes in," I tell Julie.

"Again, why?" she says.

Because I want to find out what he knows about Wildlings, but how am I supposed to say that without starting a whole new round of questions I don't want to answer?

"I just want to find out what happened to him," I say.

"This makes no sense at all," Julie tells me, but she holds up a hand before I can say anything. "It's cool. I'll keep a lookout. Just be quick about it."

I open the door and give Erik a little push. He walks in docilely enough. Julie slips in behind us and stays by the door. I give Erik another push toward the sinks.

"Let's get you cleaned up," I tell him.

I wet some paper towels and wipe his face and arms while he just stands there. He's got bruises and little cuts all over his arms. He looks like he's been out mountain-climbing or something, and the mountain won.

"Can I borrow your hairbrush?" I ask Julie.

"Seriously? You want me to get Gess-cooties on my brush?"

"I don't have one with me."

Julie makes a so-grossed-out face, but digs her brush out of her backpack and tosses it over.

"I'm going to have to get that sterilized now," she mutters. "Maybe I should buy a new one."

I tune her out and concentrate on dealing with Erik's bed hair. There's not much I can do about the condition of his clothes. But I get him to straighten his shirt and brush some of the dirt off his pants. It helps compose him, but he's still not the Erik Gess I know and dislike. His eyes are too haunted.

"Tell me what happened," I say.

He leans against a sink and runs a hand through his hair. It's an oddly tender gesture for a guy like Erik, who's more likely to strut than look vulnerable.

"I was over at Jonesy's place," he finally says. "We were just chilling with a few beers and some fatties, you know? There were some girls there and I guess I made out with a couple of them. But I didn't get wasted or anything."

I nod to show I'm listening and try to keep the irritation off my face. This is the Sunny Hill Purity Club. They've all sworn vows of abstinence. The national organization would be on their case so fast if they ever knew. I glance at Julie and she puts her finger into her mouth and pretends to barf.

"And then what?" I ask.

"I went home. Went up to my room." His eyes are starting to do that skittering thing that you see in crackheads, looking everywhere for some threat that isn't there. "And then—then he came in."

"Who came in?" I prompt when he doesn't go on.

"I don't
know
." He rubs his face. "I don't even know that it was real. He walked right through my closed door like it wasn't even there … this guy … this guy …" His gaze locks onto mine. "He didn't even have a face. There was like this dog's head where his should have been, but it wasn't a mask. It was real. So freaking real. I guess I was way more wasted than I thought I was."

So it
was
Cory. I remember Josh telling me how he had this trick where he could wear his coyote features in place of his own, but still walk around like a man.

"What did he do?" I ask.

Erik peers at me as though he's seeing me for the first time.

"Why do you care? Why are you even listening to this? It's all got to be bullshit."

I nod. "Except look at yourself."

He turns to the mirror. Even with his hair brushed, face washed, he looks a mess. There's no quick fix for the condition of his clothes and the bruising and cuts on his arms.

"
Something
had to have happened to leave you looking like that," I say.

He puts his back to the mirror, shaking his head.

"No way," he says. "No way any of that was real."

"So what do you
imagine
happened?" I ask.

"I … I …"

He keeps shaking his head.

"Try," I tell him. "You must remember something."

He gives a slow nod. "I remember the dude coming through my closed door, looking like some half-assed dog-boy. He grabbed me and then we were somewhere else—like in the mountains somewhere. It's just all rocks and dirt. He lets go of me, but then he gives me a shove and I fall down on the rocks.

"'I don't like people like you,' the dog guy says. Then he says, 'You think you own the world, but everything you do proves you're not even fit to live in it. Why don't you think about that for a while.'