The Conch Shell of Doom (34 page)

She didn’t look up. “Hello.”

So far, so good. Bailey felt getting any closer was pressing his luck. He stopped at the dresser, crossing his arms and leaning against it. “I’m sorry what I said earlier got lost in translation. I wasn’t trying to say anything mean or hurtful about you.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Alexis set her phone down. “I overreacted. This whole weekend has been one for the ages, I’m tired, and I acted like a bitch.”

“No, you’re definitely not that.” Bailey bit his lip. He only wanted to apologize, but now the truth potion was forcing the whole truth out. “You know how they can be, especially Marshall, and I didn’t want them to know because they’d more than likely mess everything up and
then
give me hell about it.”

Alexis laughed under her breath. “Still on the truth stuff, I take it?”

Bailey nodded. “And I don’t like it one bit. I’m just happy Marshall and Tim didn’t ask more embarrassing questions.

There was a twinkle in Alexis’ eyes. The gears were turning inside that adorable head of hers, which couldn’t be good. Something told Bailey things were about to get really uncomfortable. Even the truth potion suggested he get out of there before it was too late.

“So, I think I’m—”

Alexis didn’t give him a chance to finish. “Remember last summer, when we were all over at Marshall’s for that cookout?”

Oh, no.
Bailey prayed the truth potion would wear off soon. Bad things happened at that cookout. Not bad things in the grand scheme of things, but for Bailey, they were the kind of things that bother a person for the rest of their life. But how did Alexis know about that?

“And you snuck off with Jenny Hunt?”

Seriously.
How did Alexis know?
Nobody ever mentioned him and Jenny disappearing for a little while, not even him or Jenny. He had to get out of there. “I just wanted to apologize. I’m uncomfortable with where this is going, so I’ll let you get back to your phone.”

“No, stay.” Alexis patted the spot next to her. “Have a seat. Don’t you want to sit with me?”

The truth potion wanted Bailey to jump for joy, but he was able to keep his answer a bit more civil. “Of course, but I think you’re trying to take advantage of me.”

A sly grin crept across her lips. “How perceptive of you.”

Bailey sat down on the bed, defeated and deflated. Much as he liked being so close to Alexis, fear over the sort of questions she wanted to ask outweighed whatever enjoyment there was to be had.

“What happened with you and Jenny? I’ve always wondered, and she refuses to talk about it. Even tried to play the cancer card with her.”

Jenny didn’t give Alexis an answer for a good reason, though saying no to the cancer card took some guts. Bailey would’ve folded in an instant. He never got an answer from Jenny about why she never told anyone. Every time Bailey got within ten feet of Jenny, she ran away.

“What happened?” Alexis asked

Bailey covered his mouth with his hands. “I ‘ew uh ih ‘er mou why I eh iss her.”

Alexis scrunched her face, confused about what Bailey said.
Good
. Bailey didn’t want her to understand. Alexis clapped.
 

“I’ve got it,” she said. “You have to tell the truth, but there’s nothing that says you can’t cover your mouth when do it. Sneaky move, Southwick.”

“Ank you.” Busted or not, Bailey wasn’t about to remove his hands.

“Still, I’d like to know what you said. Here, let me help. You’ve got something blocking your mouth.” She took his hands and gently peeled them away, leaving him free to speak clearly. “That’s better. You were saying?”

“I threw up as I was starting to kiss her,” Bailey mumbled, upset he didn’t figure out the loopholes earlier.

“Say it like a normal person.”

“I threw up as I was going to kiss her. Right in her mouth.”

Alexis’s eyes widened. “Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.”

Bailey shook his head, frustrated. “You’re mean.”

“Right? Next question.”

“No more questions.” Bailey flopped back on the bed. He stared at the ceiling fan, wishing one of the blades would fall off and slit his throat. “This is torture.”

“Just one more, and then I’m done. Promise.”

Bailey threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine. But I want my protest noted for the record.”

“Noted.”

He turned on his side, away from Alexis. “Okay. Hit me with it.”

She laughed, pulling him back to where he was. “I’m pretty sure I know the answer to this one already, but I want it on the record, right next to your protest.”

“It’s not like I can stop you, so just ask.”

“Your comment about how I look in the moonlight, freaking out and saying what you did after Marshall saying you liked me. You do like me, don’t you?”

Bailey
hmmed
, his nerves flared up, begging to figure out a way to avoid the question, but the truth potion didn’t care about things like nerves. “Yes I do.” Saying the words out loud made Bailey feel ashamed. Like he’d committed some awful crime. He’d tell her how felt in his own roundabout way eventually, but under the spell of a truth potion made it feel cheap. Caring about someone wasn’t anything to feel guilty over. He knew that. It just wasn’t making him feel better. Stupid truth potion.

Alexis blushed. It looked like she fought back a smile as she turned her head away. Bailey’s heart jumped as if he’d won the lottery. Did she like him too? Was that even possible? When she joked about making out or holding hands during a horror movie, was that some sly way of giving him an opening? Why did he have to find out then, when they could all be dead tomorrow?
 

“How long has this been going on?” Alexis leaned back, resting an elbow on the bed.
 

Franklin knocked on the door and then poked his head into the room. Bailey and Alexis both sat up straight, giggling like they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

Franklin was a little lost for words. “The door was open. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Alexis said. “Nothing was happening.”

“Right. We’re taking turns keeping an eye on Deckland. Either of you want first watch?”

“I do.” Full of excitement, anxiety, and a little frustration that Alexis said nothing was going on, Bailey rushed out of the room.

Stupid truth potion.

By morning, the storm clouds that brewed near the horizon were close to the beach. Mr. Lovell sat on the patio of the new condo he’d rented, gleefully watching bolts of lightning strike the water and disappear underneath the surface. It was like the clouds threw down lightning; each strike sent up a geyser of seawater. His gloves were tucked inside a jacket pocket. The strong breeze felt soothing to his flayed skin. Inside, Percy watched the news, listening to a weatherman discuss the storm, saying he’d never seen anything like it in his seventeen years of meteorology.
 

That’s because this isn’t a normal storm.

“Anyone watching that’s still in Mooresville, please leave town immediately,” the weatherman said. “The authorities announced an evacuation yesterday ahead of the storm, and you would be wise to get to safety before it’s too late.”

Mr. Lovell leaned back in his chair, enjoying the view. It was beautiful. “Anybody still here is either with us or will be dead before sundown.”

I’m assuming you mean Franklin and whomever he’s scammed into helping him.

“Of course.”

A storm of biblical proportions was about to hit Mooresville. A homeless guy shouting about the end of days would be a more appropriate choice to read the weather than Bert Weathering, or whatever he was named.

Bert Weathering. I like that.

The sky turned black around the storm, like it killed all the air around it. Mr. Lovell stood and glanced down the beach at Hunter’s Bay. They looked no bigger than thumb tacks, but people were there, probably milling about, ready to get the ceremony started. Mr. Lovell put on the gloves, one at a time, his spirit sinking at the sight of his deformed hands.

Stay strong, my friend. Once I am free, what happened to you will be nothing compared to the rest of the world.
 

Mr. Lovell went inside. Percy rose from his chair and turned off the TV.

“We good?” he asked.

“Is everything in place?”

“Just waiting for the curtain to rise.”

“Then we’re most definitely good.” Mr. Lovell coughed. “Let’s not keep our guests waiting any longer, shall we?”

“Righteous.” Percy put on sunglasses and a black hat, exactly like the ones Mr. Lovell wore.

Since El Cid and Julie’s Camaro had both been totaled, Franklin asked the kids if any of them had a car big enough to hold everyone, including Deckland. Alexis drove a late model Jeep Grand Cherokee, which did the trick. Franklin gave her a hundred bucks, called a taxi to take her home, and told her to keep the change. The cab picked her up ten minutes later, and thirty minutes after that she’d returned with her SUV.

Franklin shoved Deckland through the Jeep’s hatchback into the rear. Marshall and Tim stumbled out of Julie’s apartment, pale and shaky from their hangovers. Franklin took a small amount of glee in their suffering. After all, he did
warn them not to drink too much.

“Fair warning.” Tim held up his hook sword. “I’m probably throwing up on somebody.”

Franklin sized up the group. A bartender, a handful of kids, half of which were hungover, and none of them with an idea of what they were about to go through. A far cry from the two-dozen French soldiers he’d had the last time Trenton came close to returning. Franklin looked up at the darkening sky and longed for the good old days.

The Jeep would’ve been a tight squeeze for everyone without Deckland and the weapons, but with them, it was downright suffocating. Alexis drove, with Julie riding shotgun. Franklin sat in the middle row with Bailey and Marshall, plus a sickly Tim sitting in his lap.
 

“Why don’t I ever get a seat?” Tim weakly asked.

“Because you’re the smallest,” Marshall said. “Now don’t go yakking on me, because it’ll make me do it too.”

Franklin glanced back to make sure Deckland wasn’t causing any trouble. The Scot lay in the fetal position, staring out the hatchback’s window.

“Why hasn’t it started raining?” Bailey wondered. “It’s like nighttime out there.”

Franklin sighed. “It will soon enough.”

They left the Jeep parked far enough away from Hunter’s Bay that nobody on the beach would notice their arrival. Everyone piled out of the Jeep. Alexis opened the hatchback. Franklin pulled Deckland out and let him crash onto the asphalt.

“You bleedin’ arse.” The ginger refused to stand, despite Franklin trying to help. “You’re going to have to make me get up.”
 

“You know.” Franklin pulled Deckland to his feet, then used Julie’s shotgun to force him forward. “For a giant, you sure do act like a little kid sometimes.”

A swath of trees isolated Hunter’s Bay from the main road, providing more cover as they made their way to the Awakening. Franklin saw why Mooresville’s finest liked congregating here. It hadn’t been touched by construction, and wouldn’t be for a long time to come. They didn’t take more than ten steps into the patch of trees before Tim leaned against one and then threw up all over it.
 

“What would your sensei say if he saw you now?” Marshall asked, with the
slightest
hint of condescension.

“He’d say something about how nobody likes you.” Tim spit and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“That’s a lie. Everybody fears and adores me in equal parts.”

Franklin tied Deckland to one of the larger trees close to Tim’s vomit. The smell of stomach bile and scotch made Franklin gag as he finished tying up the Irishman. The stench made it the perfect spot to leave the Irishman.

“In case you’re wondering if we’re going to just leave you here after everything is over, the answer is yes.”

Deckland shook his head and made some unintelligible noises through the gag. Whatever he tried to say couldn’t have been family friendly.

Franklin aimed the shotgun at his face. “I’d shoot you right now, but the sound would give us away.”

Deckland’s noises sounded defiant, but it didn’t matter. One by one, the group left him behind. Franklin was the last.

“Enjoy the smell of Tim’s innards.”

Franklin sprinted ahead, moving past the others as they made their way to the beach. Once the ocean came into view, he made everyone crouch low and move even slower. The thick salt air filled his lungs. He heard people on the beach, but the constant sound of crashing waves made it impossible to know what they were saying.

Nearing the end of the trees, Franklin had an almost unobstructed view of the beach, where a circle of people in black robes stood with their arms raised. He fought to keep his anger under control. Those were Trenton’s followers on the beach, but they looked like they were performing Phase Three of the Awakening. Worse, Franklin couldn’t spot Mr. Lovell. If he was in the middle of Trenton’s followers, that meant Phase Three was nearing completion. Franklin sucked in his lips, not sure what to do. It’d be a lot easier if he saw Mr. Lovell. As if on cue, two people in the circle moved a few feet apart, providing a clear line of sight.

Bingo
.

Mr. Lovell, clad in a black coat and hat, stood smack dab in the middle. Franklin exhaled. They’d barely made it in time. The ceremony had already begun, but there was still time to stop it. Thunder clapped in the dark clouds above.

Franklin glanced back at everyone and then gave the shotgun back to Julie. He took out the Blade of Hugues de Payens. “Ready? There’s no shame if you’re too scared to go.”

“We piss on danger’s feet,” Tim said.

Bailey tugged at his armor. “Good to go.”

Julie gave Franklin a faint smile. “I’m ready.”

Franklin got in a sprinter’s stance, ready for the final battle. After a few quick breaths to keep his adrenaline under control, he darted for the beach. Bailey and the others fell in line. All of them shouted like they were in the Middle Ages, charging toward the British Army with their swords and spears. The yelling robbed Franklin of the element of surprise, but it didn’t matter. He still had the drop on Mr. Lovell. Trenton’s followers turned toward the ragtag crew rushing down the beach. Odd. None made a move to attack, let alone defend themselves. Franklin crashed into the group, knocking a couple of people down with a clothesline move. Mr. Lovell faced the ocean, making it that much easier to tackle him. Franklin dove, his shoulder crashing into Mr. Lovell’s spine and driving him to the sand face first.