Mania Page 4

  Turning to face the tree now, I knew I was searching in the right place, assuming he actually had buried the answers on this lot. I just had to keep digging. My eyes fell on Chloe again, and I noticed how dirty my jacket was getting. My brow lowered and I clenched my jaw. I guess letting her use it was the gentlemanly thing to do … I just couldn’t decide if I cared whether “gentleman” was ever a word anyone would use when they talked about me.

  After all, Dad had taught me everything I knew. Fighting, shooting, picking locks, making a great Molotov Cocktail … sure, I’d been called many names because of it, but he hadn’t spent a single moment teaching me to be a gentleman.

  I climbed out of my now three-foot-deep hole, reached for the edge of my coat, and yanked it hard out from under her.

  Chloe swore as she tumbled to one side. It was immediately clear from her language that she hadn’t received much training on how to be a lady either.

  “What the hell, Jack?” She jumped to her feet, both hands already tightened into fists. We’d both taken a couple of turns now and Chloe had rolled up the sleeves of her T-shirt in an effort to cool off.

  “You said you wanted to come on this little quest, right?” My voice was completely steady as I shook the dirt off my jacket and folded it in half. When I met her eyes, she nodded slowly. So I said, “It’s your turn again to dig.”

  She grumbled and kicked the side of my shoe as she grabbed the shovel and got down in the hole. I leaned against the tree, watching her. Strands of white-blond hair fell forward out of the clip where she’d tucked them. Every time she bent over for another shovelful, she blew her hair out of her face and the strands floated up in the air like shining flags in the wind before falling back into her eyes again.

  I hid my smile behind my hand to keep her from seeing it if she looked up. Chloe was smart, pretty, funny … and a pain in my ass. But deep down I was secretly glad she’d come along. It kept me from getting wrapped up in too many memories. And right now, those only held the potential for more pain.

  Besides, Chloe wasn’t half bad to hang out with … when she took a break from yelling at me. That was a pretty big statement coming from me, especially about a Taker.

  She pushed the shovel in again, but this time I heard a thud and she stopped short. In one movement, I jumped forward into the hole and grabbed her arm before she could try again.

  “Stop! You could set it off!”

  I’d pulled harder than I intended and she lost her balance, falling against me and knocking us both back against the side of the pit. Holding tight to her wrist, I pulled her straight toward me to keep her from falling down and over whatever she’d just found. Her hands landed on my chest and her forehead against my mouth.

  We both froze. Her hair moved with my panting breath, and my nose filled with the smell of some kind of warm vanilla spice. She was softer than she looked, in all the right places, and our position was just becoming more awkward the longer we were in it.

  Chloe raised her face and whispered, “Set what off?” Her tone and eyes were filled with fear and the tiniest hint of something else I didn’t recognize.

  I shook my head, tried to speak, but nothing came out. Clearing my throat, I circled her wrists tighter with my fingers, trying to get into a position to lift her off my chest. “Whatever trap my dad set on that box.”

  “There’s a trap?” Her eyes widened even more. “I don’t like how you’re making a habit of leaving out important details I could’ve used earlier.”

  “If that’s difficult for you to adjust to … ” I began, ignoring the contrast between the heat from her body on one side of me and the chill sinking in from the cold and unyielding dirt against my back. “Maybe you should go home.”

  Her brow lowered and she shifted her weight to get off me. I had to slide quickly to the side and lift her up so she didn’t end up accidentally kneeing me in the stomach.

  “Oops,” Chloe said.

  I ignored her, focusing my attention on the wooden edge peeking out from below the dirt. “The last few years, Dad’s been—was—kind of paranoid. Not without good reason.”

  “Super.” She crouched down to look closer. “So what flavor of paranoid are we talking about? The ‘wraps things in tin foil’ kind or the ‘push the wrong button and you die’ kind? From your reaction, I’m guessing door number two?”

  “Definitely door number two.” I knelt before the box and gently brushed the dirt off the top before carefully clearing a bit of the earth from around it. Chloe followed suit and we’d mostly freed the sides within a few minutes.

  I studied the large wooden buttons on the front of the box, which were covered in rough engravings. They were sectioned off from each other in large squares, and I knew immediately that there would be one right answer to this puzzle and five wrong ones. Dad was a chemist, not an artist; I tried to recognize something from the various codes he’d taught me. I realized the markings were in Russian, which made sense. Russia was the birthplace of the drug that had started it all, the home of the experiment during World War I that had led to the creation of the Night Walkers. He hadn’t taught me much Russian, but it was enough that I recognized the words: семья (family), доверие (trust), лояльность (loyalty), кошмар (fear), предательство (betrayal), and боль (pain).

  Now I just had to figure out which square to push.

  I knew the one most people might choose, family, should be eliminated immediately. Dad would never choose family. It needed to be something related to me: I was the only one this box was intended for, so I had to have the answer somewhere in my mind. I racked my brain, repeating the words again and again.

  “So, now wha—?” Chloe began.

  “Shhh … I’m thinking.” I cut her off, trying to stay focused.

  “Ah, that’s a rare thing. I’ll be sure not to interrupt.” She leaned back from the box and watched me.

  I repeated the words over and over in my mind, trying to think of everything, of anything it could mean.

  Family, trust, loyalty, fear, betrayal, and pain.

  Chloe finally scooted over to sit beside me and stared at the words. “What do those marks mean?”

  When I told her, she reached up with one hand and scratched behind her ear. “Do you have any idea which to pick?”

  “Not family. He’d never use that to refer to me. The right answer might be loyalty. Being loyal meant a lot to him … ” All my energy suddenly felt like it was sucked out through my feet, and my voice came out flat. “He spent a few months believing I’d been disloyal and nearly killed me for it. The answer could be betrayal.”

  I sank back against the dirt in stunned silence. Each beat of my heart was loud and rang with a piercing echo in my ears. Chloe watched me quietly. Could Dad really have chosen betrayal as the word for me?

  The memories of what happened the last time I saw him—of him attacking me—ricocheted through my mind. He’d pinned me to the floor of his cell and accused me of the one thing I could never do. The emotion of the moment came rushing back, and I struggled beneath the painful weight. The bruises from his hands on my throat had only just faded completely in the last two weeks. If Parker hadn’t pulled Dad off, Dad would’ve killed me. There was no doubt. He’d believed it completely. Even if it was caused in part by his delusions, he’d still believed I was capable of the worst kind of betrayal.

  And that hurt more than any bruise his hands could ever leave.

  Chloe didn’t speak, but she lifted her hand like she was considering reaching out to comfort me—before letting it fall back to her side. That was something I never imagined seeing … a Taker wanting to comfort me.

  Then something clicked in my mind. He’d pinned me to the floor of his cell. “Never mind. Not betrayal.” My relief was obvious in my voice. “Dad only believed I betrayed him while the Takers had him locked up. He could
n’t have put this box here while he was in that prison. So it must’ve been before that.”

  Chloe gave me a wry smile and then shook her head. “Good. I would’ve thought you were crazy if you tried to convince me your dad chose betrayal as a message for you.”

  “Why?” My tone was tinged with suspicion, and I was almost afraid to hear her answer. I knew if she told me she’d spent time with him while he was being held captive it might make me change my mind about helping her.

  She looked hesitant, but finally answered. “Jack … take it from the enemy. We learned everything we could about your dad and spent years trying to trap him. The one word that doesn’t make any sense at all when looking at that box is betrayal.”

  I felt relieved at her answer, but she looked the opposite. Her shoulders sagged forward a bit and the pain in her eyes reflected part of what I was feeling inside … I just didn’t understand why she would feel it.

  “Not family or betrayal.” The look in her eyes disappeared as she refocused on the puzzle. “So trust, loyalty, fear, and pain are left?”

  “Right.”

  “Do fear or pain make sense at all?” She bit her lip and stared at the box.

  I thought for a moment and then shook my head. “Not really. He always said those were things we had to put out of our minds if we wanted to be able to do what we had to do.”

  Chloe nodded. “Well, that just leaves us with trust and loyalty then … but aren’t those kind of similar?”

  Leaning back against the dirt I tried to remember anything that would help me decide between trust and loyalty.

  “My dad always told me to trust no one.” I shrugged.

  “So did mine.” Chloe turned to face me with a grin. “If only we could’ve been like other kids and made them pay for it the normal way—by spending years watching us in therapy.”

  I couldn’t help but return her smile. The image of some kind of Night Walker kid-support group was too bizarre not to.

  “Loyalty, then,” I said, and when she gave me a firm nod, I shifted closer to the box. It surprised me when she started to move forward with me.

  “I hope this is right, but you should get back.” Crouching, I gestured for Chloe to climb out of the hole.

  “If you die with this box, I might as well die with you.” She scooted up next to me, her jaw tight. I was even more surprised when she placed her hand on my shoulder and gave me an unyielding look. “Better to have it be quick than slow and painful, right?”

  I swallowed back a tremor of fear and then pressed firmly down on the section of the box bearing the word loyalty. The world froze around us as I hoped, more than anything, that I knew Dad as well as he thought I did.

  Six

  Parker

  “This … I think it’s from my dad.” The spoken words felt like they’d vibrated out of me in some strange way.

  I didn’t look up, but I heard Finn whisper something to Mia and they both came out into the backyard and stood nearby.

  My heart pounded in my ears as I carefully opened the yellow envelope and reached inside. My fingers closed around something smooth and leathery. When I pulled it out, the first thing I saw was the symbol of the Night Walker Society staring back at me: a skull and crossbones wearing two eye patches—the Blind Skull.

  Dad had sent me his old wallet. I remembered seeing it as a kid, and the same symbol was on Jack’s leather jacket. But why was I receiving this now? And how had Dad arranged the delivery when he’d been in the Takers’ prison?

  A small, folded-up paper fell out of the wallet and onto my lap. I reached for it with trembling fingers and carefully unfolded it.

  Parker—

  If you’ve received this, it means I haven’t been able to prevent it from being sent. I’m sorry that I’m not there with you now. Know that I died fighting for you and your future. Ask for Jack at the Cypress Crest Trailer Park and tell them I sent you—he has all the

  answers you need. Give him this note.

  I missed you every single day. Never doubt that.

  —Dad

  Each heartbeat felt like it tore a new hole through me. Reading his words, his thoughts … realizing he’d always had some kind of plan in place for me to learn the truth. It meant more to me than I thought it would.

  At the bottom of the page, the letter continued:

  Jack—

  It’s up to you now. Tell Randall that I said it’s time to begin. Trust Parker and no one else. It’s time to tell him everything and for you to work together. He is your ally and it’s time to act like it. You can do this.

  I know you can. Do not doubt yourself.

  I’m sorry for everything I couldn’t do.

  —Dad

  I gaped at the words. No wonder Jack was so bitter and jealous when we’d first met. The difference between the way Dad acted with me and with him was clear. It was obvious Dad had been afraid some enemy could get ahold of this letter and use it against him, but wasn’t that what he’d been afraid of for Jack’s entire life? This was just how it had always been between them.

  And that made me abruptly sad for my brother.

  I couldn’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for Jack … to always know that Dad was his father but for Dad to never act like it. To see the way Dad talked about me and the difference in how he reacted to his two sons—it must’ve been hell.

  But at least Jack got to know him. I’d have given anything for that simple chance.

  “What did your dad say?” Finn asked, and I handed him the paper. He read it and passed it on to Addie and Mia.

  I pulled out my phone and hit the power button. It hadn’t rung, it hadn’t vibrated, and it hadn’t beeped … but I still picked it up and watched it like it could suddenly tell me what Jack was doing and if he was okay. I scrolled through the screens like doing so might tell it I was waiting. Like now that I’d touched it, the phone would suddenly have the information I wanted … but no, nothing.

  Jack had to come back—the sooner the better—and read this letter. I wasn’t sure if anything Dad had said to Jack here would help him with piecing together the new formula, but either way, he had to read it.

  I pulled up a text box and sent one single message.

  You need to come back.

  “When do you think your dad sent this?” Addie asked.

  “I’m not sure. Sometime before he was captured.” I stretched my neck to one side and then the other, trying to let go of the sadness that had seeped into me from the letter. “Being exhausted and Divided for so long had my dad pretty messed up. It sounds like he’s been preparing for this a long time.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mia said, and then she bent over to hug me.

  I hugged her back, grateful my friends were here with me. I opened the wallet that still sat on my lap and looked through it, but it was empty. And as far as I could tell, except for the symbol on it, it was just a normal wallet.

  “Do you think you should call Jack?” Addie rested her head against my shoulder again.

  “I texted him to come back. I don’t think it’s something I should read over the phone, and also, he might see some kind of hidden meaning that I can’t. Maybe he’ll have an idea what Dad’s message is about. For now, I guess we just wait.” I stood up, and Finn seemed to know I didn’t want to discuss this anymore because he picked up the basketball and tossed it my way.

  I dribbled the ball in the warm afternoon sunlight, focusing on the way it felt in my hands and how it bounced differently if it hit a crack in the cement. Anything that might serve as a good distraction. I didn’t realize my friends had continued talking until I looked up and saw them all watching me.

  “I’m sorry, I’m distracted. What did you say?” I took a shot and Finn grabbed the ball after it went through the hoop. Addie walked over and draped an arm around my waist.

  “It
was nothing. We were just discussing whether there’s anything we want to do tonight. Are you tired?” She gave me a quick sideways glance before her cheeks flushed a little.

  I realized what she was referring to, and I hoped the others didn’t notice. The last couple of nights in her dreams, we’d spent a little more time making out than having her actually help me sleep. It was one of the unforeseen hazards—and perks—of your amazingly hot girlfriend also being the Builder who helped you sleep and kept you alive.

  “A little.” I cleared my throat and sat up straighter. The truth was that yes, I was feeling kind of tired and would have to find some self-control so I could get at least some sleep in Addie’s dreams tonight. “You come up with any ideas?”

  “No … ” Addie and Finn said simultaneously.

  “Nothing that we can all agree on,” Mia added.

  “Not surprising.” I gave them a half smile and stopped trying to avoid the subject we were all thinking about. “I’m worried about Jack and this formula crap.”

  “Our searches for information aren’t exactly panning out, and he’s still not answering many questions,” Finn said. After making a shot, he turned to face me immediately. “What else can we do to help?”

  “I don’t know.” I ran my hands through my hair, which I’d let grow out a little longer over the last couple of months. It curled at the back of my neck, and I tugged at the ends, using the little jolts of pain to try to focus my mind on finding an idea that might get me somewhere.

  The truth was that what I wanted to do was exactly what Jack didn’t want me to do. I’d been sitting here all day trying to figure out how to not piss him off and somehow be helpful at the same time. Maybe it just wasn’t possible. Maybe I had to give up on keeping him happy. Deep down I knew it was fear that drove me. I was scared that if I made him angry he might disappear again, the way Dad did. The way he had done before.

  But I couldn’t live like this forever, and I didn’t want to.

  Brothers were supposed to make each other mad sometimes, right? I guessed now was as good a time as any to see how my big brother was going to react when I did just that.