Over My Head (Wildlings) (6 page)

"Don't know that you picked the right bodyguards," he says, "but you're going to need them if you don't start showing a little respect to your betters …
boy
."

I can hear the sharp intake of breath from around us. It's not exactly like calling me a nigger, but when it's said like that, it's really pretty much the same thing.

Inside me, the mountain lion rumbles a warning growl. I'm pretty sure it wasn't audible, but Erik takes a step back and Marina takes a firm grip of my arm.

"Not in school," she says.

Erik backs up another step, but he's managed to hold on to his smirk.

"Better listen to your little
puta
," he says.

Marina holds me back as I start to lunge forward. But she's too far away to stop Desmond. Moving fast as a Wildling, he punches Erik in the face with enough force to knock him flat on his ass. Before Erik's friends can move in on us, the crowd suddenly disperses and we see Mr. Cairns, our English teacher, striding down the hall in our direction. Erik's friends wait a beat, then take off as well.

I can see Mr. Cairns assessing the situation as he draws near: my bruised face. Erik on the floor holding a hand to his nose from which blood is pouring. Desmond, me and Marina standing over Erik, with Marina holding me back. Desmond has his hand in his pocket, hiding his bloodied knuckles.

"Who's going to tell me what happened?" he asks.

Nobody talks. We stare anywhere except at him, giving each other quick glances.

"Somebody?"

"Erik tripped and fell," Marina finally says.

"Is this true, Erik?"

Erik's eyes are full of hate for us, but he nods. Mr. Cairns studies him for a long moment, then his gaze settles on me.

"And what happened to you?" he asks.

"A bunch of guys jumped me yesterday."

"On school grounds?"

"No, sir."

"And did one of these attackers happen to be Erik?"

"I didn't see who they were, sir. They jumped me from behind."

Mr. Cairns sighs.

"I should send you all to the office," he says. He gives us a last once-over, then sighs again. "Erik, go see the nurse. The rest of you, get to class."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

Mr. Cairns rolls his eyes. We scatter before he can change his mind.

"Nice one," I say to Desmond as we hurry down the hall.

"Come on, dude," he says. "I know you didn't want me to do anything, but the jerk was begging for it."

"I wasn't being sarcastic. I was two seconds away from ripping off his head. Literally."

"Sweet."

"No. That would have been a disaster."

"But we have to do something about him."

"Maybe I'll beat him up," Marina says. "That'll do wonders for his image."

Desmond and I look at her in surprise.

"What?" she says. "You don't think I'd love to do it?"

"Yeah," Desmond says. "But you're usually the voice of reason in our little gang. We are a gang again, right?"

Marina and I look at each other. I smile. The three of us against the world—like old times.

"Sure," she says. "The gang of three."

Des grins, happier than I've seen him in a long time. I have to admit, I'm feeling a little giddy myself.

"Maybe that should be our band name," he says. "Hey, here's my class. See you at lunch."

Marina and I both have history, so we continue down the hall to our own classroom. Just before we go in, she puts a hand on my arm.

"We still need to talk," she says.

"Absolutely."

"But we're good," she says.

She ducks into class before I can say anything back. Thank God she didn't squeeze my arm again.

Chaingang

I know Marina and Josh are just good friends, and I guess I'm happy for them that they're putting their differences aside, but I still feel pissed when I see them traipsing up the walk, smiling, her arm linked in his.

And you don't have to tell me. What happened with Marina last night was nice, but it didn't mean shit. We were just playing roles in case the crazy Wildling dude was spying on us. And even if we did feel something—I'm not saying I did, I'm just saying even if—it's not like anything could ever come of it. The last thing I want is for Marina to get jumped into the Avers. It's probably the last thing she wants, too.

But I'm still pissed.

So instead of hanging in my "office" for the day, I go to the student parking lot and get on my bike. Ten minutes later I'm on the Pacific Coast Highway, heading south. I stick to just a little over the speed limit so that some eager highway patrolman doesn't pull me over. Way I'm feeling right now, I might just take a swing at him, and that wouldn't end well. I go away again and it won't be to juvie.

Might be worth it, though, because I'm in the mood to hit something.

I tell myself to chill. I concentrate on the wind in my face and the sound of my wheels humming against the pavement. I think about retirement and getting away from all this crap. I'm miles away from Santa Feliz when I finally pull into a little parking lot overlooking a beach that's not much bigger. It's just a small sandy cove surrounded by cliffs. There are some surfers out in the water, waiting for a wave. It must be their jeeps in the parking lot.

I kill my engine and put the bike on its stand. Leaning on the metal rail, I time the beat of my heart to the rhythm of the waves. I finally feel the calmness—or I do until I hear footsteps approaching. I don't have to turn around. The wind's bringing me his scent.

"Week's not up yet," I say.

"I told you I want the boy dead," the guy says. "Not just roughed up."

Huh. So he thinks I sicced those skinhead wannabes on Josh. I can work with that. Especially since word around the school has it the FBI came along and broke things up. Gossip flies through the place like buckshot from a shotgun. My Wildling hearing picks up everything I want to hear and lots that I don't, but at least I've learned to filter out most of the crap.

"Yeah," I say, "and you also told me you wanted it to look like he'd been killed by humans. This was just a glitch. How was I supposed to know the Feds would come by when they did?"

"Now he's on his guard."

"I doubt it. But even if he is, it's not going to do him any good. And I've still got a week."

"Six days."

"So he'll be dead in six days."

I shrug like it's no big deal and stare out at the ocean. All I want is for him to buy this crap until I can get a line on him.

"Look at me," the guy says.

I take my time turning away from the railing.

"You think this is a joke?" he says. "Do you need another object lesson to show you just how serious I am?"

He doesn't have to mention Lenny by name for me to know what he's talking about. He probably never even bothered to learn Lenny's name.

"Oh, I know you're serious," I tell him.

I wish I'd thought to bring my sawed-off on this little jaunt. With a bit of luck, I might have had a chance to see how tough he is with a head full of buckshot.

I don't let anything show on my face, but he still says, "I know what you think you're doing."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"Stalling until you can figure out a way to take me down."

Smart dude. But I don't care how smart or fast or strong he is. There's always someone faster or stronger. Or smarter.

"You said you wanted nothing to make it look like Wildlings killed him," I say. "So you either let me do this my way or take the other option and do it yourself."

He nods. "Don't try to play me, boy. I've seen you tough kids come and go, and I'm still standing here."

"I'm real impressed."

He gives me a hard look, then turns and walks away. I lean against the rail and watch him go. He doesn't have wheels, so I figure he's got a shape that travels easily and fits in around here. Not a lot to go on, but it does narrow things down a bit.

What I really need is for Marina to get me a name from Auntie Min. Once I know who and what he is, we can start to plan out how he's going to die.

Josh

Des is in a great mood at lunch, probably still riding the adrenaline rush of thumping Erik. He's full of plans for the band, the skatepark, hanging out. It's so infectious that I can't help but feel optimistic myself. Even Marina seems happy and relaxed, though I do catch her studying me from time to time with an expression I can't read. Her friend Julie joins us and it starts to feel like old times, like the whole Wildlings thing never happened and we're just a bunch of kids passing the time talking about music and good surfing beaches and the lame shows on TV. Julie teases Des and Marina, asking if they're going to the prom together. Des announces he might attend clown school next fall, then gets insulted when we all tell him that he could teach them more than he'd learn.

It's great. Other than being sore, everything is so normal. For the first time in longer than I can remember I feel like I'm living my life instead of just going through the motions.

After classes I do my detention then we all meet up in front of the school. We're keeping a lookout for Erik and his pals, but they're nowhere in sight, which is a good thing. I don't need any more drama.

Marina has to go straight home, so Des and I walk with her. Julie's going to the library to study, which is interesting. She'd been hanging with the stoner crowd for a while, but it looks like she's getting serious about school again. We say goodbye to her and head off like we've done a million times before, the three of us just kicking along the sidewalk together.

But nothing in my life is ever simple anymore. We're only a few blocks away from the school when a familiar car pulls up beside us. The window rolls down and Agent Solana looks up at us from the passenger side.

"Got a minute, Saunders?"

"Not really," I tell him.

Agent Matteson leans across the seat. "We can do it here, or we can do it back at the office. Your choice."

"Seriously? I told you. I don't know who the guys were that jumped me."

The driver's side door opens and Matteson gets out. He puts his elbows on the roof of the car and studies me for a long moment.

"You still look like crap," he says.

That gets Des's back up. Marina stands frowning between us. I know she's trying to get a take on what the Feds want with me now, but good luck with that.

"Dude," Des says. "What do you think happens when a bunch of guys—"

"Yeah, yeah." Matteson makes a brushing-off gesture with his hand. "Just tell us where you were last night."

"You know where I was. You drove me home. Did I look like I was in any shape to do anything but collapse once I got inside?"

"You tell me."

"I just did."

But then I realize what's going on.

"This is about Clint Gaillard, isn't it?" I say. "The guy who was running security at ValentiCorp."

"What do you know about it?"

"Nothing. Des saw it on the news and told me he'd been killed."

Des nods and juts his chin in my direction. "The dude was still crashed when I came over to his place this morning."

"See?" I say.

"Yeah, but—" Matteson begins, except I cut him off.

"Look," I tell him. "I don't care one way or the other that he's dead, but I didn't kill him. What about those dead kids' parents? He's got to have pissed off people who are a lot more dangerous than I am."

"You tell me," Matteson says.

"Will you stop saying that? Why would you even think I had anything to do with it?"

"Good question," Matteson says. "Isn't it, Al?"

I look down at Solana. He shrugs.

"Coroner's report says he was torn apart by some kind of animal," Solana says. "They haven't got a line on just what kind, but they're working on it."

"And you think it's a Wildling."

"We're keeping an open mind," Matteson says.

"I keep telling you, I'm not a Wildling."

"Yeah, we get that. It's why a bunch of guys were able to beat you up as badly as they did yesterday. A kid like you wouldn't have a chance taking down a guy like Gaillard with his Seal training and everything."

"So why are you even asking me about it?"

"Just covering bases."

"Right," I say. "But the funny thing is, I've got a perfect alibi if I need one: you two keeping tabs on me. Did you see me leave the house last night?"

Matteson's eyebrows go up. "What makes you think we're following you?"

"Okay, play it that way," I tell him. "But I didn't do it, and I don't know who did."

"Good to know," Matteson says. "Thanks for your time."

He gets back into the car.

"Watch yourself," Solana says. "We don't always have your back."

Before I can ask him what he means, Matteson pulls the car away from the curb. I watch them go for a long moment. When I turn around I find Marina studying me with a considering look.

"What?" I say.

She shrugs. "Nothing. I've just never seen you so—I don't know. Forceful, I suppose."

"They're getting on my nerves. A lot of things have been getting on my nerves."

"I can see that. But the old Josh never mouthed off to cops like that. You're getting as bad as Des. Fighting, detention."

"Hey!" Des and I both say at the same time.

She grins and punches me lightly on the shoulder.

"Kidding," she says. "But," she adds in a more serious voice, "I don't think those agents actually believe you were involved. It seemed more like they were giving you a heads-up."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I know. That's what worries me. Because then you have to ask yourself, a heads-up about what?"

Marina

I'm keeping secrets from Josh again and I don't like it. Especially not when we're all getting along so well again. But for now, I don't have any other choice. I know why Chaingang's worried. Just like him, I saw the video from the ValentiCorp labs with Josh killing that woman while he was in his mountain lion shape. If Josh thinks there's danger—especially any threat to the people he loves—he'll hunt this stranger down. I get it. I understand that need to protect your friends and family.