The Conch Shell of Doom (21 page)

Julie clapped. “Done!”

Franklin carried the coffee cup with both hands, taking care to keep it from spilling. His gaze darted over to Bailey. “Keep it together, kid. I can’t do this without you.”

Bailey took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When they opened, the poison covered almost all of Alexis’s neck.
Okay body, this is our chance
.
Don’t screw it up. Anxiety, I’m talking to you now. I will pump myself up with so many meds we’ll be in a coma the rest of our lives if you fuck with me right now.
“What do you need?”

Franklin stood next to Alexis, slowly lowering the cup to her lips. “Hold her mouth open.”
 

Bailey pushed on her cheeks, but that only gave Alexis a fish face. He pulled up on her nose and down on her jaw. That did the trick. Franklin held the cup against her mouth. Bailey saw the poison crawl up to her jawbone, and had to look away. It was too much.

“Eyes on her,” Franklin said.

“Sorry.”

The cup tilted toward Alexis. The antidote reached the edge, ready to slide into her mouth like a smooth coffee. Her eyes opened. She gasped. Bailey struggled to hold her mouth open. Franklin started pouring, but Alexis convulsed, spilling some of the antidote on her cheek. Franklin tried to move the cup away and let the tremors pass, but a flailing arm flew up, knocking the cup, and the antidote, out of his hand. Everything moved in slow motion as Bailey watched the cup fall on the linoleum and shatter into pieces, spreading the antidote, and Alexis’s hope for survival, all over the floor.

“Sweet Mary mother of…”

Bailey couldn’t hear the rest of what Franklin said under his breath, but it seemed to be variations of words that rhymed with buck, flit, and lamb. Franklin reached through the opening in the kitchen for some paper towels and then used them to soak up as much of the antidote as possible. Unable to keep the stress inside any more, tears streamed down Bailey’s face. He held Alexis, hoping in vain it would stop her seizure.
 

Julie grabbed a new cup from the cabinet and got to work mixing another batch. With the paper towels soaked through, Franklin held them over Alexis’s mouth, straining the liquid down her throat. Some of it missed, dripping on her chin.

“Hopefully that’ll slow things down.” Franklin finished wringing the towels out and dropped them on the floor, landing with a wet thump. “How are we coming on that second batch?”

“Almost.” Julie moved quickly but carefully. Another accident would absolutely be lethal to Alexis.

The poison reached her eyes, and the violent shaking calmed down. Bailey hoped that meant the poison was slowing down, buying them a little extra time. He whispered into her ear that she was okay, rocking her back and forth in his arms. Franklin motioned for him to stop and then opened her eyelids. The poison shrouded them in darkness.

So much for extra time. Anybody have an axe? If so, please chop my head off, quick and easy. Won’t feel a thing.
 

“Almost isn’t good enough.” Franklin spoke through gritted teeth. “Now or never.”

Bailey let go of Alexis, her skin cooling down. He didn’t know much about medicine, but that reeked of death to him. He slid down on the floor, wrapping his arms around his body, wishing he could squeeze the pain out. Face buried between his arms, stuck in that terrible moment before reality crashed down like a meteor, Bailey could barely handle the truth. Alexis was dead. Dear Lord, she was dead.

“Here.”
 

Julie handed Franklin the new mix. He pried open Alexis’s mouth, poured it in, and then tilted her head all the way back so it wouldn’t just spill out. The three of them sat, frozen in suspense, waiting for Alexis to get better. She didn’t.

“Sh—she’s dead, isn’t she?” Bailey’s voice broke.
 

“Don’t say that.” Franklin waved him off. “There’s still a chance.”

“God. I’ve never seen a dead body before.” The realization bothered Bailey as much as the fact that Alexis was gone.

“I can’t remember how many I’ve seen.” Franklin didn’t sound too beat up about that, more like he’d stated a fact.

The poison didn’t move beyond Alexis’s eyes, but it didn’t retreat either. Bailey scanned her almost-completely-black body for any sign of life. Nothing. No pulsating artery, no chest moving up and down for breathing, nothing.

Franklin laid his fingers on her wrist, checking for a pulse. He shook his head. “I thought we had time.”

Julie pulled Bailey close. She smelled like chicken fingers and chili. Bailey hugged her back, face locked in disbelief. His stomach did a loop-de-loop, threatening to empty its contents onto the floor. He let go of Julie and ran into the bathroom, making it to the toilet without a second to spare. The acid in his stomach burned his throat as he yakked. After emptying the contents of his stomach, he spit out bits of bile. He took a moment to catch his breath before the dry heaves set in. His abdomen feel like it was being ripped in two.
 

The heaves made sure there wasn’t even air left in Bailey’s stomach. The episode mercifully ended, and Bailey fell back against the bathtub, sweat on his forehead and out of breath. He wiped innards off his mouth with the back of his hand. With his mind–and body–cleared, there was nothing left to occupy his thoughts. Alexis was so excited about going on an adventure. The leukemia couldn’t get her, but that burnt toast looking asshole did. Damn him. Damn everything.

Percy checked on Mr. Lovell, making sure he was okay. He shoved the stoner off him.

“Not me,” he wheezed. “Franklin.”

“You sure?”

“Go!”
 

Percy ran out the door. Mr. Lovell’s eyes recovered from seeing his reflection, the tiles on the floor coming into focus. There was the rumble of an engine leaving the parking lot.
 

Don’t worry. Franklin will be too busy trying to save the girl tonight. We’ve bought ourselves a little time.

Percy came back inside and slammed the door. “They’re gone.”

So perceptive, this one
.

“Doesn’t matter.” Mr. Lovell sank into the couch, taking a moment to relax. “Franklin came for the Shell, and wound up with a bunch of kids, one of whom will probably be dead by dawn, if not sooner. Kind of funny, if you think about it.”

“How’s that?”

Mr. Lovell snapped his fingers, but with the gloves on, they made no sound. “Just like that, he’s gone from bounty hunter to babysitter. The man’s spent two thousand years hunting his brother, and now he has to read a bunch of children bedtime stories.”

That is funny. Even I didn’t think about it like that.

“But don’t you want to go after them?” Percy motioned toward the door. “They couldn’t have made it that far. We can take care of everybody at once.”
 

Mr. Lovell would’ve applauded Percy’s dedication, but it was misplaced. “Do you really think your van could keep up with Franklin’s Mustang?”

Percy
hmmed
. “Probably not without a whole lot of nitro.”

“Even then, I have my doubts.” Mr. Lovell took his gloves off and pretended not to notice the sickened look on Percy’s face. “Besides, I have a better idea.”

“What’s that?” Percy asked.

“You and I will pay the Southwick boy’s parents another visit. See if we can’t put some real fear into them. If everything goes the way I think it will, they’ll lead us to the children, or even take care of them for us.”

Percy nodded, liking what he heard. “Franklin and the girl?”

“We have the Shell.” Mr. Lovell picked up his cell phone. “And much to prepare for. Someone else will take care of them. He’s been in the area, just in case this exact situation came up.”

“No,” Percy sounded terrified. “Not him.”

One hollow threat and Percy’s afraid of the man for life. Oh, how nice it would be if everyone else was that easily swayed. Never mind. They will be.

“Of course him.” Mr. Lovell dialed the phone. It rang three times before someone with a thick, gravelly Irish accent answered.
 

“Yeah?”
 

“Hello, Deckland? It’s time.”

Bailey’s head was buried between his knees, so he didn’t see anyone else in the bathroom until two pairs of shoes entered his line of sight. Tim with his scuffed-up silver New Balances, and Marshall with his shiny new Nikes. Bailey didn’t have the strength to look his friends in the eyes. The shame would destroy Bailey, especially with Tim. How could Bailey tell his friend Alexis’s condition was all Bailey’s
fault? That he was the reason Tim’s sister was dead?

“You okay?” Tim asked.

“That dude drives like a maniac.” Marshall kicked at Bailey’s foot. “What’s up with you? Can’t handle the little run-in we just had?”

That was it. Bailey’s anger took control of his body. He sprang at Marshall, slamming him against the wall. “Can’t you act like a decent person for once? Alexis is dead, you moron.”

“Hey, whoa, take it easy.” Tim laid a hand on Bailey’s arm, pulling it away from Marshall’s throat. “We’re all good here.”

Bailey glared at Tim, trying to get his anger under control. “How? Tell me how we’re
all good
.”
 

“For starters, Alexis isn’t dead, you nimrod.” Marshall shoved Bailey away from him. “That antidote they gave her is working.”

A bubble rose in Bailey’s throat. Was it possible? Hope drowned out everything, and his eyes teared up again. “You serious?”

“As a nunchuck to the nose.” A half-smile crept across Tim’s face. “Why would we joke about that?”

Bailey couldn’t believe it. He
watched
Alexis die. Moving past his friends, he dashed into the kitchen, looking for her. She wasn’t there. Walking into the den, he found her asleep on the couch. Her skin had almost returned to its normal, peach-like complexion. Each step closer felt like a weight being lifted from his spirit. He got down on his knees next to her. She seemed utterly at peace. No hint of horror or fear splashed across her face, just calm. Anyone would be hard-pressed to figure out she’d walked through the gates of Hell earlier tonight. A few tears fell down his face. Bailey wiped them away. He didn’t want his friends to see him like that. Good thing, too. Tim and Marshall each took a seat at the table, grinning.

“Thought she was a goner.” Franklin was in a chair across from them.
 

Bailey never noticed Franklin was even there. Tim could probably learn a thing or two about being stealthy from that guy.
 

“Not many can hang on as long as she did.” Franklin nodded toward Alexis. “That girl’s got more fight in her than Muhammad Ali.”

Bailey looked at Franklin funny. He was too worn out to think about obscure references.

“He was a boxer,” Julie said, walking in from the bedroom.

“I know.” Bailey didn’t know.

“We’re not idiots,” Marshall spat out.

Yes they were.

Who the crap cared about Muhammad Ali, anyway? Alexis stared at death, took its best shot, and kicked it in the teeth for a clean getaway. Bailey wondered if there was anything that could kill her. Leukemia couldn’t, and the same for Mr. Lovell. Not even George Washington had her kind of luck.

“I should be beating the shit out of you right now,” Franklin rose from the table. “All of you.”

Bailey raised an eyebrow. Unless Tim or Marshall told Franklin about the museum, there shouldn’t be any problem. “Why?”

“What did we do?” Marshall asked.

“We didn’t go to Mr. Lovell’s to save you and your friends,” he said. “And why would we? We were there to kill that raisin face.”

“What were you even doing there?” Julie asked.

“Long story,” Bailey said. “Basically, mine and Marshall’s parents are helping Mr. Lovell, and we were trying to find out why.”

“I guess it was a good thing we showed up. Only happened because I got busted at the museum earlier. Otherwise, your friend would probably be dead.”

“Yeah.” Bailey felt as awkward as a dancer with two left feet. With Alexis safe, he figured it’d be safe to fess up. He didn’t want that hanging over his head, the guilt spoiling the moment. It wasn’t like Franklin could reverse the healing, right? “About the museum.”

Marshall covered his mouth, trying not to laugh. Bailey narrowed his gaze, saying
don’t you dare, asshole
with his eyes. Tim shook his head
no
.

Franklin gave him a confused look. “What about it?”

“Sorry.” Bailey explained the run-in with Percy earlier in the day, and how they thought he was the one they called the cops on at the museum.

Franklin sighed, running a hand over his mouth. It wasn’t hard to see the anger bubbling under the surface. “Unbelievable. Do you know what you’ve done? Do you?”

Bailey didn’t expect a kind reaction from Franklin, but it still caught him off guard. At least he hadn’t punched Bailey. Yet. “I’m sorry, we messed up, but if we hadn’t, Alexis would be dead right now.”

“Yeah? Well, now we’re all probably dead. Your good Samaritan act gave them the Conch Shell of Doom.”

“So?” Bailey felt threatened by the accusation. It wasn’t like he’d done the wrong thing by calling the cops. He just fingered the wrong guy. “What’s the big deal about this shell anyway? It’s a shell, for Pete’s sake.”

Franklin rolled his eyes. “It is not
just
a shell.”

“What is it, then?”

Franklin put his hands in his back pockets and gazed up at the ceiling, thinking about how much to tell them. “It’s the ultimate weapon.”

Bailey bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold back laughter. He knew one look at Tim and Marshall would result in a massive giggle fit. Yes, Mr. Lovell wasn’t of their world or whatever, but how could a shell be an ultimate weapon?

“I’m with Bailey.” Marshall spoke through laughter. “Why all the hubbub over a friggin’ shell?”

Franklin slammed his fist on the table, making everyone jump. “You think so? You think I’d be this mad over a damn sea shell? It can destroy
everything
you love, don’t you get that?”