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chapter twenty

I followed him out of the locker room and into the deserted hall.
 

The school had a side entrance that led to a paved outside area that wasn’t nearly as public as the front of the school, though there were a long row of windows looking into classrooms there.
 
Inevitably, somebody would see Jake leave the school, which was fine so long as it wasn’t a teacher.

We walked outside.
 
No one there.
 

Across from us through a stand of trees was a parking lot that led to a strip mall, where many students went each morning to get their morning coffee at the Dunkin’ Donuts located there.
 

Jake cut through the trees. I looked behind us and got a charge that nobody could see me.
 
Why couldn’t I have had this ability my whole life?
 
A few students were watching him but no one seemed to make much of it.
 
He could be going home sick for all they knew.

I looked over my shoulder and saw that he already was on the other side.
 
I closed my eyes and imagined myself next to him.
 
And I was.
 
He was moving with purpose, his stride long and determined.

Ahead of him was the bank.

Without hesitation, he entered it.
 
I followed.
 
He went to the table in the middle of the room, got a piece of paper and wrote on it:
 
“Be calm.
 
I have a gun.
 
You are being robbed.
 
Give me what you have in your till and we both can walk out of here alive and call it a day.
 
If you don’t cooperate, I will kill you and likely your colleagues.
 
Do the right thing.”

He took the note and stood in line.
 
I was standing near the door, watching.
 
He seemed completely at ease.
 
He was just a good-looking guy here to either withdraw or deposit money into his account.

Minutes passed.
 
And then it was his turn.

He went to the teller and handed her the note.
 
She looked at it, read it and then, startled, she looked up at him.
 
His eyes bore straight into hers.
 
Her mouth became a thin line as she worked the bank’s procedures through her mind.
 
Putting her life and the lives of others on the line wasn’t an option.
 
Giving him the money was.

She opened her till.
 
I looked around the room and saw the cameras, many of which were trained on Jake, whose face was not concealed because, you know, he’s an idiot and I planned it that way.

She took out every bill she had, which I knew would send a signal to the police that the bank was being robbed.
 

She found a large envelope and started stuffing the money into it.
 
I looked over at the other tellers and could see by the tense looks on their faces that a warning message of some kind must have flashed on their computer monitors.
 
They looked at Jake, then at the teller as she handed him the envelope.

An elderly woman impatiently waiting for her money said to the teller in front of her, “I’ve got plenty in that account, but you keep staring at the screen as if I have nothing.
 
Is there a problem?”

Jake turned to her.
 
He looked at the other tellers and knew by their faces that they knew.
 
This was a small bank, a local credit union, and there was no armed guard.
 
All they had were their cameras and the silent call to the police, which likely was fast on its way.

He reached down and drew his gun from his calfstrap.
 
He held it out at arm’s length as he backed toward the door with the envelope in his left hand.
 
One of the older male tellers said, “Put down the gun, son.
 
You’re already in enough trouble.
 
You don’t need anymore.
 
Put it down.”

But something must have caught Jake’s eye because he suddenly turned to the teller who gave him the money.
 
It looked as if she was reaching for something, though Jake didn’t know what and so he fired the gun at her.
 

The shot rang out in the small space.
 
The elderly woman screamed.
 
I deflected the bullet to the wall behind the teller, where it smashed the glass on one of the pictures.
 
People dropped to the ground.

And that was all I needed.
 
Bank robbery, attempted murder and whatever else they could nail to him.

I made Jake drop the gun, push through the door and run outside, where the police were indeed waiting for him.
 
Before they could shoot, I closed my eyes and stopped them.
 

I wanted Jake Tyler alive, not dead.
 
Death was too easy for what he’d done to me and my parents.
 
I wanted him to confess for his part in burning down my parents’ trailer, I wanted him to tell the police what he did to my car and I wanted him in prison for all of it, which is exactly where he was going.

chapter twenty-one

Later that evening, Jake Tyler
was
the evening news.
 

I ordered a pizza earlier for dinner and now sat in my living room to watch it all go down on television.
 

He did everything I wanted.
 

He confessed that he was part of a group who torched our trailer and thus killed my parents.
 
He refused to offer up the other names of those who joined him, which is just what I wanted.
 
I planned to take them down myself.
 

He confessed to smashing my car, which now was outside my apartment with a canvas cover concealing it.
 
I’d give it a good week, then I’d fix it myself.
 

And then there was the big story, which showed Jake on camera trying to rob the bank and then shooting at the teller.
 
There were images of him being hauled away in handcuffs and when they pushed him down into the police car, he looked pissed off and disappointed—not crazy—which was critical if he was going to be sent to prison.
 
It’s there that he belonged and since he was eighteen, that’s where he was going.

I was in the kitchen cleaning up when a knock came at the door.
 
I wasn’t expecting anyone.
 
I looked through the wood and saw creepy Jim standing outside.
 
He wasn’t stupid—he was here for a reason.
 
I crossed to the door and opened it.

“You’ve had quite a day,” he said.

“I’ve had worse.”

“I didn’t say you a bad day.
 
Looks to me like you had a productive day.
 
Mind if I come in?”

I stepped aside and as I did, Jim whistled.
 
“Well, look at you.
 
Fancy.
 
Never seen anything like this.”

I closed the door.
 
“You want something to drink?”

“Not unless you’ve got a Bud.”

I held out my hand and his beer of choice appeared in it.
 
“Here.”

With wary eyes, Jim watched me.
 
“Mind if I sit down?”

I shook my head.

“The amulet works differently for you.
 
How did you do that?”

“I imagined it.”

“What else can you imagine?”

“I can transport myself.”

“No, shit.”

“And I can make myself invisible.”

“Hell, you should join the circus.”

I smiled at him.
 
“I also could give you a new set of teeth.”

That got a laugh out of him.
 
“No, I’ll keep my teeth, rotten as they are.
 
If you fixed them up, they’d look like dentures and then I’d be in for some shit talk at Judy’s when the crew saw me.”
 
He took a long pull on his beer.
 
“How’re you holding up?”

“It’s not easy.”
 

“Can’t imagine it is.
 
Want to talk about it?”

I sat on the leather sofa and shook my head.
 
I wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about my parents, especially the last night we shared together.
 

“He deserved what happened to him today,” I said.

“You’re sure he’s one of the people who set fire to the trailer?”

“I saw him.
 
I’m positive.”

“Then I imagine he got exactly what he deserved.
 
And you did it right,” he said.
 
“You listened to me.
 
No one got hurt, you left it to the law, he’ll do time in prison.
 
Maybe not for taking your parents, but time is time, and that boy is going to have a hell of time inside.”

“I’ve made sure of it.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that lots of men are going to find him very attractive.”

Jim raised his eyebrows.
 
“Suppose he deserves that, too.
 
How many were there that night?”

“Eight.”

“And you saw them all?”

“Every one of them.”

“What are your plans for them?”

“Not sure yet.”
 
I looked at him.
 
“But you agree I need to do this?”

“Shit,” Jim said.
 
“If someone did that to me, I’d be all over them.”
 
He leaned forward in his seat.
 
“But be careful.
 
What you pulled today was some crazy, risky shit.
 
Watch yourself.”

“I want to hurt some of them, Jim.”

“I know you do.”

“It’s not right that they can just walk away from murder.”

“You already said you’re not going to let them.
 
So, what are you thinking?”

“I told you—I don’t know.
 
I’m still working it out.
 
I went after Tyler today because of what he did to my car.
 
Otherwise, I wouldn’t have acted so fast.
 
But the police were there, the opportunity was there, so I took it.”

“Like I said, given the circumstances, nothing’s wrong with what you did.”
 
He held up his empty can of beer.
 
“You mind?”

I imaged him a new one.

“Sweet Jesus, if I was able to do that when I had the amulet, I’d probably be dead by now.
 
How do you do it?”

“I don’t know.
 
I just see it.”

“You gonna see yourself a new car?”

“I’m going to see myself a
fixed
car.
 
I’ll give it a week or so before I do it.”

“Smart move.”
 
He put the beer down on the table beside him.
 
“There’s a reason I came here tonight,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“You need to know something.
 
I should have told you the day I gave you the amulet, but you had to get to school so fast, I couldn’t.
 
And then I just let it go given what happened to your parents.
 
I’ve been debating whether to tell you since.”

“Tell me what?”

He let a silence pass.

“Tell me what?” I repeated.

“You’re not the only one who has one of those amulets,” he said.