Shadow Hills (38 page)

“He could be gone already for all we know.” Zach kicked a box on the floor, sending it slamming into the wall.

“He wouldn’t have left his stuff here.” I pointed at the briefcase on the desk in front of us.

“Very good observation, Ms. Archer.”

We whirled around. Tripp, the real Tripp, was standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Zach.” He sauntered in slowly, obviously not worried that we posed any sort of threat to his escape plans. Zach took an intimidating step toward him, but Tripp simply smiled. “Don’t tell me you’re going to try to stop me.”

“What do you think? And it’s not only me, Tripp. My father’s on his way here right now. Along with the police.”

“Oh, Christ!” The older man scowled. “I might have known you and Grant would do something like this. I had hopes for you, Zach. Your mother’s a strong woman, and so’s Corinne. But clearly you take after my spineless brother.”

“It’s not spineless to be loyal. Dad would never do anything like this. Dad would never deal with the Banished. Or sell us out for money or power or whatever the hell made you do it.”

“I did it for my father!” Tripp thundered. The air crackled with electricity. “You think I did this for me? I did it to save your grandfather. You’ve seen him, the way he is—a mindless invalid. The man who once was the finest medical mind in this community. In this country. Now he’s lucky if he can remember his name.”

“How the hell does that justify your trading secrets to our enemies?”

“They taught me how to help him. They showed me how to give him back his energy, his power.”

That was probably what Tripp was doing the day we saw him at Oakhaven. The day Zach told me how well his grandfather was doing
. It was easier to hate Tripp when I thought he was purely evil. But in his own twisted way, he had been trying to help. To take care of his family.

“You’ve been sucking energy from people.” Zach shook his head. “You’ve been stealing their life force and transferring it to Granddad.” He looked like he was trying to wrap his mind around the idea.

“Give the boy a cigar,” Tripp proclaimed sarcastically.

Zach’s rage seemed to lessen a little. “Tripp … you don’t have to run. Tell the Council why you were dealing with the Banished. They’ll understand about your trying to help Granddad.”

“You think they’ll understand about murder?” Tripp retorted sarcastically. “They won’t give me a slap on the wrist for Carr.”

“Why did you kill him?” I burst out, unable to hold back any longer. “Because of Mrs. Carr?”

He glanced at me, startled. “How the hell did you—” He shook his head, dismissing the question. “Doesn’t matter. No, I did not get rid of him because of Pamela. Pamela is … a side issue.”

I bet she’d love to hear that
.

“Then what
was
the issue?” I pressed. “What was worth murdering your friend? And what did it have to do with me? Why did you steal my bracelet?”

“I didn’t steal your stupid bracelet—you dropped it in the gravel that day I met you in the parking lot. You were fidgeting annoyingly with some zipper on your purse. All that wonderful energy you possess was radiating off you. The more nervous you were, the stronger the energy got. Of course, you’re still clueless.” Tripp snorted.

“Why did Mr. Carr have my bracelet in his hand when I found his body?”

“I was carrying it when I was with Pam; it fell out of my pocket in their bedroom. But that bracelet means nothing. It’s merely a piece of jewelry until it’s ionized.”

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Trapping me, taking my bracelet—it finally made sense. “You were going to ionize my bracelet and hand me over to the Banished. That’s why you attacked me in the photo lab that night.”

“You’re not quite as clever as you think.” He gave me a condescending smile. “Why in the world would I give you to them when I could use you myself?” Tripp turned back to his nephew. “Your little girlfriend could have been very useful. Your
grandfather could have fed off her for weeks. Is a piece of ass really worth losing him?”

Zach punched Tripp hard in the face. A punch that would’ve easily knocked out his son. But Tripp recovered quickly, shaking his head at Zach like he was a foolish child.

“This isn’t about you. Now, get out of my way.” Tripp started toward the box on his desk.

Zach stepped in front of him. “Are you just going to skip out on Lillian and Trent?”

“Trent knows why I have to leave.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t know about the part where you cheated on his mother.”

“But I bet you were happy to inform him. You’re exactly like your dad. So self-righteous.” Tripp’s mouth twisted. “I can’t stay here. You think I’m going to allow the Council to stand in judgment of me? So they can try out their new ‘reprogramming regimen’? That’s just a fancy name for what boils down to a shock-treatment lobotomy.”

The rumors Brody heard were true
. An image of Trent’s medical genius father drooling onto a straitjacket filled my mind. It was understandable why they had to do it—prisons weren’t equipped to detain someone with mind-control powers—but I wouldn’t wish a high-risk, traumatic medical procedure like shock treatment on anyone.

“If you believe I’m going to stand by and let them strip me of
my
abilities, you’re even more delusional than Grant.” Tripp stepped around Zach to grasp his briefcase.

“There’s no way I’m letting you leave with that.”

“I don’t really see how you’re going to stop me.” Tripp picked it up, the gleam of challenge in his eyes.

Zach took another swing at Tripp, but the older man dropped the briefcase and caught Zach’s fist all in the split second before it made contact. I could hear the popping of Zach’s knuckles as Tripp squeezed his hand. Zach gritted his teeth, and I could tell he was trying not to cry out in pain. Then, almost so fast I didn’t see it happen, Tripp kicked Zach’s legs out from under him, and he fell to the side, landing with a crunch on his left knee. Tripp lunged toward his fallen nephew, but Zach shot up, slamming his shoulders into Tripp’s mid-section and propelling him back into the row of file cabinets behind him.

They crashed into the cabinets, and I heard Tripp’s head bang against the metal. Then, with a roar of rage, he flung Zach away from him. Zach landed hard on the desk and slid across it, sending files and books and a lamp skidding off onto the floor. Though Zach was larger than his uncle, it was clear that Tripp was far more powerful and using an energy that was greater than physical strength.

I felt helpless, useless. I hated doing nothing, but I was afraid if I did anything Zach might get hurt trying to protect me.

Tripp rushed at Zach again, slamming his foot into Zach’s injured knee so that he crumpled to the floor in agony. Zach tried to stand up, but with a horrible guttural sound of pain, he fell back into the side of the desk. Tripp had a strange disconnected look in his eyes as he reached his hands out toward
Zach. Fear seized my heart. I had seen the burns on Mr. Carr. There was no way I was going to let that happen to Zach.

I grabbed the first heavy thing I could find, the briefcase that had fallen off the desk when Zach landed on it. Swinging with every ounce of strength in my body, I slammed the case into Tripp. He stumbled and looked over at me in surprise. When he caught sight of the briefcase in my hand, surprise changed quickly to anger. Lightning fast, he lunged at the briefcase, but I sidestepped and he missed it by an inch.

This is what he wants. This is what’s important
.

Something resembling a plan flew into my mind. If I could get Tripp out of this office, maybe I could stall him long enough for Zach’s dad and the cops to get here. Tripp was definitely strong, but I was small and determined—and maybe even fast enough to keep him one step behind me. I darted out of the office and ran back the way Zach and I had come in, bursting through the outer doors and barreling on toward the school—and away from the black helicopter waiting for Tripp.

The campus lay before me, pristine and untouched by the terror I was experiencing tonight. The school had dorms filled with people who would hear me scream, which made it my best option. The quickest path was through the graveyard, so, already gasping for breath, I took off at a sprint, bearing down on the old cemetery.

There was no way I was going to be able to hold Tripp off for long, and I was terrified of what he would do when he finally caught up to me. I made myself push through, trying to ignore
the burning in my thighs and lungs. I had to keep going. The farther I got, the farther away Tripp was from Zach.

I ran faster than I had ever moved before in my life, but I could still feel him gaining on me. So close now that I could feel his hot, ragged breath on my neck. Then suddenly his weight crashed into me. The ground rushed up to meet my face, my cheek smacking against the hard-packed dirt of a burial plot. Tripp flipped me over onto my back and the briefcase went flying into the gravestone next to us. As it made contact, the case popped open, spilling folders, papers, and vials of what was most certainly blood. But something else had fallen out, too—the metal glinted in the moonlight. A letter opener.

I scrambled across the grave to get it. The weight of the stone grip felt reassuringly heavy in my hand. As Tripp lunged at me again, I stabbed blindly. With a sickening sound, the opener went in, but then I felt the hard obstruction of bone vibrate through it. I yanked the blade out. It had made contact with his shoulder, but the cut didn’t look deep enough to cause any real damage.

In fact, it didn’t seem to faze him at all. Before I could stab him again, Tripp locked down on the metal end of the letter opener and pulled. I clung to it as tightly as possible, my fingers turning white with the effort. Letting out a grunt of frustration, Tripp grabbed my wrist, wrenching it painfully. I wanted to cry out, but I didn’t want Tripp to know how close I was to being beaten. I gritted my teeth and held on to the handle even tighter than before; I was gripping it so hard that the dull edges were cutting into my skin. When I still didn’t let go, Tripp pulled my
hand straight back until it touched my forearm. I heard something snap before my brain registered the agony.

A howl of pain that didn’t even sound human escaped from my body, and I let go of the letter opener and rolled onto my side in the fetal position.

Tears sprang into my eyes as white-hot pokers shot from my wrist into my hand and arm.
Get up, get up, get up!
I didn’t have time to lie here nursing my wounds. I pushed myself to a sitting position with my good arm, then up to kneeling, cradling my other, battered wrist. It was red and swollen, but there were no bones poking up, straining against my skin. While I was struggling to stand, Tripp had gathered everything up and was locking the briefcase.

I stumbled forward as he took off back through the cemetery toward the waiting helicopter. My whole body was screaming for me to give up, admit defeat, but I kept on. Suddenly, Tripp stopped moving. I could see his knees straining to lift his legs, but they wouldn’t budge. It was like he had walked into quicksand. Which was impossible.

Then I saw Zach. He was limping as fast as he could toward us, grimacing every time he stepped on his left leg. His expression was curled up, twisted in concentration. His stare was focused on Tripp’s feet the same way it had been when he had moved the soda machine. But instead of flying backward, Tripp was locked in place. Zach was now only four or five feet away from us. I moved closer, my wrist piercing at every jostling movement.

“Phe, stay where you are!” Zach was dead serious, but it didn’t matter. I needed to be next to him. I kept going.

“I guess you’re more powerful than I thought, Zach.” Tripp tried to bring his foot up again. It hovered a half inch from the ground then slammed back like a shoe stuck in taffy on an old cartoon. “I mean, moving an inanimate object is one thing, but restraining me—that takes talent.”

Sirens were wailing in the distance. The fact that we could hear them over the helicopter noise assured me the police weren’t far away.

“You have no idea what I can do.” Zach’s eyes flashed as he stepped closer to his uncle. In my peripheral vision, I saw Tripp pull his arm back. Apparently, his upper body was still mobile. Then I saw the glint of a blade. Tripp was going to stab Zach with the letter opener. Zach would be within arm’s reach with one more step.

In that split second I made a decision. I had lost too much already. To have Zach taken from me was more than I would be able to live with.

I jumped between them, shielding Zach with my body.

I felt the cold metal plunge deep into my stomach. Tripp pulled the letter opener back out and blood spilled down the front of my tank top in a red waterfall. I turned to Zach, trying to hide the fear in my eyes.

“Phe! No.” Zach was shaking, staring at me in shock. “No. You can’t.” He pushed his hand against the hole in my stomach, attempting to dam up the river of blood. It gushed out around his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” I managed to choke out before falling to all fours. The crimson liquid poured out onto the dirt.

“Phe! Hold on. I’ll get you to the hospital.” Zach knelt next to me, wrapping his arm around my chest to pull me up. I coughed. That tangy metallic taste was familiar. There was blood in my mouth.

Tripp had regained control of his legs. He hit Zach in the face with his briefcase, just as I had done to him. Zach lost his grip, and I fell back to the ground.

“Phe!” Zach was flung backward as if he had been hit by a freight train. I saw Zach’s face, filled with rage. But he was pinned to a tree, unable to move.

“You think you have power? This is power.” The skin on Zach’s neck was twisting like he was being choked, but his uncle was nowhere near him.

A puddle of my blood spread like an ink stain across one of the ancient cemetery plots. I felt dizzy and sick. The pain in my side took over my whole body. I couldn’t concentrate. My vision was growing dark around the edges.

“Phe! Look at me! You can’t die! You can’t!” Zach’s yells were muffled. Strangled.

Zach looked away from me, concentrating on his uncle. Zach was getting stronger; I could see it in his eyes. There was a fire raging there. Zach sent his uncle flying with his telekinetic energy. Tripp tried to stand, but Zach barreled into him, hitting him square in the chest with his shoulder. They both fell to the ground, with Zach on top of Tripp now, pinning him
down. As I watched, Tripp slammed both his fists hard into Zach’s lower back. Zach let out a grunt of pain, and his hold loosened. Tripp seized the opportunity to shove Zach off him, and Zach rolled. His head cracked sharply against a tombstone, and he went limp, a rose halo bleeding out of his head onto the grave marker.