The Conch Shell of Doom (16 page)

Bailey stood out on Seaside’s patio, looking absentmindedly at the old condominium complex next door.

“Hey, are you okay?” Alexis asked sympathetically behind him.
 

Bailey turned to see her, arms crossed and head lowered, walk up next to him. “Yeah. He just gets on my nerves sometimes.”

She sighed. “I’m with you. I can only take Marshall in small doses.”

“I guess every group has to have the asshole.”

Alexis grinned. “Does that make me the token chick?”

“Of course.” His grin matched hers. “No, it’s not like you don’t have other friends.”

“Not as many as I used to.” She glanced up at an overhead parking light. “Burned a lot of bridges.”

“Forget them.” Bailey hated that so many people abandoned her after the leukemia went into remission. Yes, she’d gone wild, and some people got hurt in the process. But she was dying. At her age, who wouldn’t try to take hold of as much life as possible? Once Alexis was declared healthy, she tried to make amends, but nobody would have it. Bailey hated how petty her former friends were, but he didn’t hate her spending a lot more time with them. “You know who your real friends are.”

“Yeah.” Alexis sighed, rubbing her arms. “Doesn’t make it hurt any less. Most days I’m okay, but you know that time between going to bed and falling asleep?”

“I do.” Bailey knew it well. Alone with only his thoughts, the anxiety would try to take advantage and sneak up on him. “It’s when the demons come.”

“That’s one of the reasons I’m here with you now.” Alexis smiled weakly. “You guys always stuck by me, no matter. It sounds corny, but this is my way of saying thanks. You don’t know how much… are you even listening to me?”

Something in the parking lot in a condo development next door caught Bailey’s eye. He stepped closer, bringing into focus a black van with a red spoiler, just like the
A-Team
used to drive, pulling to a stop in one of the parking spots.

“Is bearing my soul boring you?” Alexis asked, a little irked.

Bailey looked back at her, thrown out of his daze. “What? Oh, no. Sorry.”
 

“Seems like it.”

He pointed at the van. Its lights turned off, and the driver, wearing a plaid hat, hopped out, a spring in his step. A bag was cradled in one of his arms. Alexis squinted.
 

“Is that who I think it is?”

Bailey let out one of the longest utterings of the phrase, “Oh, shit,” in the history of mankind. “How is it possible our luck can be this bad?”

Alexis shrugged. “Maybe he’s out on bail?”

“The guy they arrested didn’t have that awful hat on.” Bailey looked up at the sky. “Why are you messing with us? For shits and giggles? Cut it out!”

“We’ll figure something out.” Alexis
hmmed
. “Somehow.”

Bailey took a closer look at the guy who had a smaller frame than the guy who'd been arrested. “What if he sent someone else to do the job for him?”

Percy stopped, did a three-sixty, and thrust his fist into the air.

“I don’t think he’d be so happy if that were the case. Do you?”

“No.” Bailey stared at the bag. “I bet you a million dollars the Shell is in there.”

“Normally, I’m not one to turn down million dollar bets, but this time, I am,” Alexis said, pushing her hair behind her ears.
 

“I’m not going to lie.” Bailey’s hands rested on his sides. “I hate everything right now. Even you, a little bit.”

Bailey tried to argue against it, but Alexis snuck over to the condos to get a better look, while he went inside to collect Marshall and Tim, who were playing some shoot ‘em up game.
 

“Stop playing,” Bailey said. “We have to go. Now.”

Marshall, holding a plastic blue machine gun,
psshed
. “We’re not finished with our game.”

“Look, I think we screwed up earlier, and we all need to get outside,” Bailey said, his fingers twitching. “I’m not kidding. Let’s go.”

“What makes you think we screwed up?” Tim held a red machine gun. “And if so, what can we do about it now?”

“Alexis and I think we saw Percy across the street just now, and she went to get a better look.”

Tim immediately set his fake gun in its holster. “Why did you let her go?”

“You think I could stop her?”

Tim tugged on Marshall’s sleeve. “Let’s go, man.”

Marshall kept playing the game. “In a second.”
 

Bailey yanked the gun out of his friend’s hand. His character died soon after, ending the game. Marshall groaned.

“You ass.”

“Did you not hear what he just said?” Tim said, nostrils flaring. “My sister’s about to get in some serious trouble.”

Marshall held his hands up, as if he were giving in. “Okay, okay, jeez.”

The three of them rushed outside while Bailey got Marshall and Tim up to speed. Neither could believe what Bailey told them.
 

“So who was the jackass we sent to the big house?” Marshall asked as they walked onto the parking lot.

“No clue,” Bailey said. “But it wasn’t Percy.”

Marshall snorted. “Wait. So
two
people were dumb enough to break into the museum just to steal a sea shell?”

“Looks like it.” Bailey said, noticing Alexis crouching behind a Ford in the condo’s parking lot.
 

The three of them made their way over to Alexis, crossing the street when no cars were coming, doing their best to avoid the streetlights. They made it to the Ford unnoticed and crouched beside her.
 

“Glad you could make it,” Alexis joked.

“You got him?” Bailey asked.

Alexis pointed. “Fourth floor.”

Bailey’s muscles tensed up. If they were discovered, who knew what would happen to them? His parents erased his memory because he saw something. Was the next step snuffing out his entire identity? Maybe even his life? What about the others? He wished he was in a movie. In the movies, a big, intimidating hero would take charge, guns blazing, and save the day. The only one in the group that came close to that description was Marshall, and he was the furthest thing from a hero. Not to mention, none of them had a gun, let alone a plural amount of gun, so they could go blazing.
 

Bailey hated how scared he was. Stupid nerves.

“So, what’s the plan? Sneak up there and peek in the window, like a bunch of Peeping Tom’s?”
 

Bailey nodded. “That’s all I’ve got.”

Marshall smacked Bailey’s shoulder, furious there wasn’t a decent plan. “Are you kidding me?”

“It’s not very ninja.” Tim’s voice trailed off.

“It’s not very anything.” Marshall set a hand on the pavement for balance.

Alexis looked back at them, out of patience. “We’re all ears, if either of you have a better idea.”

Tim shook his head. “Anything I’d come up with would require ninja stars, which we
don’t
have.”

Alexis’ eyes fell on Marshall. “You?”

Marshall’s pride deflated. He glanced down at the asphalt, unable to hold her look.

“Then, unless you’ve got something better, shut up.”

Bailey’s mind raced as he tried to think of another idea. Short of knocking Percy out with some kind of concussion bomb, nothing came to mind. At least anything that didn’t involve
Call of Duty
. Bailey wished he could’ve called in a drone strike.

“Do you think we could tell the cops they got the wrong guy?” Bailey asked.

Marshall glanced at him for a moment. “Moron. They caught that guy in the act. As far as they’re concerned, they’ve done their job.”

Alexis glanced out of the corner of her eyes, like she was doing the math in her head. “I’m with Marshall on that one.”

Bailey sighed. “Then I guess we go in for a better look. Shit.”

Alexis took a sprinter’s ready position. “On the count of three.”

After the three count, they crept out from behind the Ford and quietly hustled over to the building, avoiding being discovered by any lights while making as little noise as possible. They made it across the parking lot safely, stopping at the stairwell.

“Ready?” Alexis whispered.

Bailey nodded, along with the rest of them, even though he wasn’t close to ready. He figured none of them were either, including Alexis. “Let’s do it. Not like we’re getting any younger.”

“Nothing bad is going to happen.” Alexis held out her fist. Bailey bumped it.

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Tim said.

“You want a bump too?” Alexis held her fist out again. Tim smiled, bumping it.

“What about me?” Marshall complained. He got a bump too.

“Can we go now?” Bailey asked, starting up the stairs.
 

It only took a handful of steps before the complaining settled in. After turning onto the next set of steps, Tim bumped into Marshall.

“Watch it.” Marshall pushed Tim.

“You’re too slow.” Tim smacked Marshall’s arm away. “Move that fat ass of yours.”

“Fat? This is all muscle and you know it.”

Alexis shushed them. “Ladies? Can we stay on topic?”

“Sorry,” they both said, lowering their heads in shame.

The group tried to look normal as they walked up the stairs, in case some random tourist walked past them. After a couple of minutes, they stepped onto the fourth floor. Alexis took the lead in place of Bailey, since she knew which unit Percy stayed in. They passed a few doors before arriving at his. Marshall and Tim were in the rear, standing in front of one of Percy's windows. Bailey motioned for them to move back.

Marshall scrunched his face and made the same motion at Bailey.
 

“Dickhead,” Bailey whispered. He wanted to slap Marshall, but nodded at the window instead.

“Oh, shit.” Marshall was so surprised he spoke at an almost normal volume. He stepped back, knocking into Tim, and pushing him back as well. The two of them silently bickered.
 

Bailey tried to peek in through the corner of the window, where there was a slight opening between the frame and the blinds. He could hear his friends breathing behind him, raising his own excitement level. His heart beat so hard it felt like an alien would burst through his chest at any moment. Bailey thought he saw something move inside, but before he could make out what it was, he heard the long, slow sound of a fart.

Tim
.

Bailey gawked at his friend.

“Sorry, it was Seaside’s pepperoni pizza,” Tim whispered. He glanced at Marshall, whose face turned three darker shades of red. “Don’t look at me like that. It tears you up too.”

“Real ninja of you,” Marshall said. “At least I can let mine out without anybody noticing.”

“Quiet,” Bailey whispered.

“Seriously, do you two mind?” Alexis asked.

Tim and Marshall zipped their lips. Marshall pinched his nose shut, breathing through his mouth. Bailey looked through the window again. The bag Percy held earlier lay on the bed. What was in the bag? The Conch Shell of Doom? Gwyneth Paltrow’s head? He hoped not, on both counts. Gwyneth’s severed head scared him enough in the movie. Bailey could hear two voices speaking inside, but he couldn’t make out what they said.

“Now what?” Marshall asked. “Knock on the door, say Avon calling?”

“You can.” Bailey motioned at Alexis with his shoulder. “He knows what we look like.”

Before Marshall could respond, Bailey’s laser
pew-pew
ring tone went off. He closed his eyes, despair seeping into every pore of his body. Unbelievable.
Of course
it would happen at the absolute worst imaginable moment. Whatever cosmic, all-powerful entity was making his life hell could spend eternity with bad breath and no sex for all Bailey cared.
 

Alexis jumped at the sound, smacking Bailey’s arm. “Turn it off.”

“Idiot.” Marshall punched his shoulder from behind. “How could you leave your ringer on?”

“Sorry.” Bailey yanked his phone out, set it to vibrate, and pressed ignore, ending the call from his parents. Bailey held his breath and rubbed his shoulder. That shot from Marshall hurt. Bailey prayed the people inside the condo didn’t hear the ring. The agony of waiting to find out felt like the most gripping fear since seeing the first
Paranormal Activity
movie. Man, did that movie freak Bailey out. After a few moments of silence, the group seemed to relax all at once. They’d know by then if anyone heard them. Bailey exhaled and tried to relax his nerves.

There was a loud
crack
behind him. He glanced at Alexis. She stared at something beyond Bailey with eyes so wide they looked to be the size of tennis balls. He followed her gaze and jumped at the sight of a man in an overcoat. The coat’s collar was pulled up to cover his face and the hat pulled down, probably for the same reason.

Bailey immediately remembered the guy. Looking at Mr. Lovell, Bailey worried his brain would take a breather and pass out. And he thought the fear rippling through his body when the phone rang was bad. Passing out from terror was a real option at that moment.

“I see your parents didn’t give you enough of my tea,” Mr. Lovell said. “Young Southwick.”

Tim gasped and tried to run away. Mr. Lovell spun in place so fast he became a blur. He disappeared with another loud
crack
, reappeared in front of Tim and knocked him down. Mr. Lovell grabbed Tim by the shirt, dragging him back to the others.
 

“Holy shit!” Marshall squealed. “That guy just teleported!”

Alexis grabbed hold of Bailey’s arm. Tight. Her breathing was heavy as she locked eyes with Bailey, who was so far beyond terrified he sort of felt okay. Plus, it was mildly comforting to remember seeing Mr. Lovell do the same thing last night.

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Mr. Lovell asked.

Though that didn’t stop Bailey from wishing he’d passed out.

Franklin had four hours to kill before Julie showed up to bail him out of jail.
If
she showed up. If she didn’t, well, it was too early to think about a jailbreak. It’d be pretty stupid on her part to pass up a thousand in cash on top of whatever bail cost. Franklin was confident she’d come. In the meantime, all he wanted was to sit down, lean his head against the wall, and get a little shuteye, but that wasn’t in the cards.