Circle of Silence (17 page)

29

We’re on the way to my house when my cell buzzes. I
look at the readout. “Omigod!”

“What?” Raul asks.

“It’s Emily!”

“Emily who?”

I hold up my hand to silence him, take a breath and accept the
call. “Hello.”

“Emily Purdue speaking. You left a message.”

“Hi, um, Ms. Purdue.” Raul’s eyes widen. He leans in to listen.
“This is Valerie. Valerie Gaines. Thanks so much for calling me back.”

On the phone, her voice has a higher pitch than when she’s on
camera. More impatient. “You said it was ‘extremely important.’”

“Yes. It’s about a story you reported. You got it wrong.” As
succinctly as I can, I start to explain what happened at the warehouse. She cuts
me off before I get very far.

“Listen, sweetie, that’s old news. If the kid in the hospital
dies, okay, let me know. Maybe I’ll follow up. Not promising.”

Without another word, she hangs up.

Raul whistles. “That’s cold, Val. Sorry. I know you like
her.”

The last bit of the world that I trusted, the part desperately
clinging to the belief that reporters want to get a story right, crumbles before
my eyes.

“Do you think she realized what she said? How…awful that
was?”

Raul sighs bleakly. The disaster that’s become our lives is
wearing him down, too.

“I don’t know.” He shifts Jagger’s backpack, hooked over his
own, higher on his shoulder. “Let’s see if there’s anything on the camera. The
only way anyone will take us seriously is if we have proof of what went
down.”

We walk the rest of the way to my house in silence. After
unlocking the door, I push Raul ahead of me.

“You sure this is okay?” he asks.

“No one’s home, but the neighbors are nosy.”

Once we’re inside, I open Jagger’s book and pull out the camera
that’s been securely taped into a well of cut pages. Nothing happens when I
press
Play.

“Dead battery,” Raul observes. “That’s good. It means Jagger
had it running at some point.”

“Computer’s upstairs.” I gallop up the steps, then pull to a
dead stop. “Wait here. I share with my sister.”

I pop in to check for stuff like random underwear thrown onto
the floor, which would be totally embarrassing. I’m lucky. Bethany has finally
taken to dropping her dirty clothes into the hamper. Although both beds are
unmade, there’s nothing especially cringe-worthy lying around.

“Okay. Come in.”

“This isn’t so bad,” Raul tells me. “You should see my
room.”

I plug the camera directly into the computer. It takes a moment
to power up. A couple of mouse clicks later, the transfer starts.

“Not sure how long it’ll take. There’s ninety minutes of
memory.” I peer at Raul. “You can take off your coat, you know.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Do you want something to drink? We have everything. Soda,
milk, juice…”

“Juice is good,” Raul says.

Breakfast dishes, milky glasses and crumpled napkins are all
over the kitchen table. The garbage can overflows.

Raul quietly checks it out. “How many brothers and sisters do
you have?”

“Three, but the boys are twins.” I open the fridge. “Apple or
orange?”

“Whatever you want.”

I pull two glasses from the cabinet and rinse them in case
there’s crud inside. Raul says, “I can clear the table if you want.”

“Are you kidding? That’ll totally make my mom suspicious.” I
hand him a glass of cider. “Or give her a heart attack.”

“Wouldn’t want either to happen.” Raul gulps half the cider,
and then stares at the glass.

“Is there dirt inside? I’m so sorry, the dishwasher’s really
old.” I reach out. “I’ll get you another glass.”

“It’s fine.”

I lean forward. “Then it’s Hailey that’s bothering you, right?
Wasn’t it a little strange the way she wanted to know the exact day Jagger got
hurt? And the question about the footage. What if we’re right, after all, and it
is
someone on A Team but not her? Scott lied
about Omar’s wall when he shot the fire piece.” Raul gives me a look. “He told
me he asked Omar about the new paint, but he didn’t.”

“That’s not it.”

“Oh. Then what…”

Raul gestures toward the glass. “I was thinking about Jagger’s
mom. When you got the water. You seem to know the apartment pretty well.”

“Yeah. Well, I mean, it’s not a secret that Jags and I went out
at the end of tenth grade.”

“But you broke up.” He waits for me to nod before continuing.
“That’s why I thought it would be okay to ask you to Winter Formal. And the
reason you said yes.”

“Raul—”

“Because after Jagger wakes up, and after all he did to get the
story, maybe you’d rather go to the dance with him.”

At last! The time to confess. But the thought of seeing one
more person hurt right now is too much for me. In the room directly above us, a
camera transfers the footage that will show how Jagger slipped into a coma. A
coma he may never come out of.

Across from me is a guy who’s working as hard as he can to
uncover the truth. For Jagger. If you asked which he’d rather have—Jagger waking
up perfectly fine and losing me or the other way around—Raul would certainly
choose Jagger. He’s liked Jags from the moment they did the skateboarding piece.
Yes, I complicate things, but the fact doesn’t change. Raul is as upset by what
happened as the rest of us.

How can I knowingly wound a guy like that?

“Will any of us feel like going to the dance if Jagger’s still
in the hospital?” I ask quietly. “I know I won’t….”

Raul’s hot cocoa eyes widen. “God, Val, you’re right. I just
assumed he’d be better by then…. Jesus, I’m a jerk.”

I lean across the table. “You’re not. I’ve hardly ever seen you
be less than the most considerate person imaginable. Everyone knows you care.
About a lot of stuff. Your family.
Campus News.
Jagger. What we need to do right now is find out who did that awful thing to
him—and then pray he wakes up. Nothing else matters.”

He nods—because the truth is, Raul may be the nicest person
ever.

Climbing back up the stairs feels different. As if we’ve
reached another level in our relationship. Real friendship? The comfort of
people who want the same thing? Whatever it is, neither of us feels the need to
talk about it.

By the time we get to my room, the footage has transferred.
Instantly, we’re all business. I pull Bethie’s desk chair next to mine. Raul
reaches for the keyboard.

“Ready?”

“Do it.”

At last we find out who’s in MP! The idiots who left Jagger
with the rope around his neck. My heart ticks fast as the image on the screen
moves. It’s shaky. We can see the street in late-afternoon light. I catch a
glimpse of a jean jacket on the person walking next to Jagger. Just like the one
I wear—along with half the kids at WiHi.

Jagger’s voice is loud. “Why aren’t we going to the
flagpole?”

“Change of plans,” a girl replies.

Her voice is clear, although I don’t recognize it. Raul shakes
his head. He doesn’t know who she is, either.

“Where
are
we going?” Jagger
manages to sound annoyed, not worried because he knows I’m waiting.

“You’ll see when we get there.”

After some jostling, the footage abruptly cuts off.

“Damn,” Raul says. “You think she found the camera?”

“My guess is Jagger shut it down because he didn’t know how
long it would take to get to the next place. Didn’t want to run out of memory.”
I point to a second thumbnail image on the computer screen. “The camera saves
each start-up as a different file.”

“Got it.” Raul clicks the mouse, and the second section begins.
Same girl’s voice. “In here.”

“That’s the warehouse,” Raul mutters. “I recognize the walls.
That tiny camera’s pretty good, Val.”

“Except we aren’t getting her face.”

“Don’t worry. It’s early. I’m sure—”

“Shit!”

“What?” Raul looks startled.

My stomach drops. “We’re not going to get picture. It was
pitch-black inside.”

“Oh, man,” he moans.

Even a tiny camera needs light.

On-screen, the back door swings open. Jagger and the girl step
inside. Just as I predicted, the computer screen goes dark. In an eerie echo,
both Jagger on the computer, and Raul next to me, swear.

All we get is sound.

“Lights?” Jagger lightens his voice. “I’m afraid of the
dark.”

“No electricity. But we have a flashlight.” She raises her
voice. “It’s Ghost Face. Shine the light this way.”

It doesn’t help. The camera needs way more illumination than a
single flashlight to capture images. Footsteps shuffle. It sounds like several
people are moving into position.

On-screen, someone says, “Let’s begin.” The chant bounces off
empty walls, echoing eerily.

“
Blood of the untamed

Runs through our veins,

Power that forms

Cannot be contained.

Cold winds will rise

Increasing the pain

Yet our circle of silence shall always
remain….
”

I blink. “What the—”

“It’s some kind of oath,” Raul mutters. “Or warning. Keep quiet
or else!”

To me, it sounds like a curse. The hair on my arms goes
electric. The creepiness pouring from the screen is almost too much to bear.

The chant ends. Eagerly, a boy asks, “Ready, dude? Skeletor
found a good box. Look how we set it up.”

I imagine the flashlight shining first on the box—and then the
ceiling.

“What the hell?” Jagger’s first glimpse of rope, looped over
the pipe, finally makes him sound nervous. “What’s going on?”

Run, Jags! Get out. Now!

“It’s for the initiation,” Ghost Face says.

No one snickers
duh.
Instead, a
titter of excitement makes its way around the group.

“This is sick,” Raul mutters.

“Not so fast.” A new person. A guy. “He needs to sign.”

“Skeletor?” Now Jagger’s pissed. “No one told me I had to sign
anything.”

“Yeah, well, new rule.” A paper rustles. “It says you’re doing
this of your own free will. No one’s making you.”

“What exactly am I doing? All I see is a rope thrown over a
pipe in the ceiling. And a box underneath it. And, like, five of you standing in
a circle.”

“He’s narrating,” Raul breathes. “Jagger knows the camera isn’t
picking up picture.”

The first guy speaks again. Totally amped. “It’s Pass Out.
It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”

Ghost Face pipes up. “I’ve got a pen.”

Don’t take it! Get out of
there—

“Let me read it first. Hand me the flash.”

My hand grips the desk. Beside me, Raul barely breathes.

Jagger laughs. “Whose father’s a lawyer?”

The group shifts, but no one answers.

“If you don’t sign, you can’t be in MP,” Skeletor states.

“Why doesn’t he leave?” Raul grabs my arm. “He must know who
they are by now.”

I shake my head. “Jagger told me they wore masks the first
time. Probably have them on again. Maybe there’s some stupid ceremony where they
take them off after the initiation’s over.”

“Give me the pen,” Jagger mutters.

“Sign at the bottom.” Skeletor’s cocky, not at all surprised by
Jagger’s surrender. He knew Jags would give in, just like he knew he’d show up
for the initiation. In some primeval recess of my brain, the one that got
created when cavemen discovered poisonous snakes, a message throbs:
watch out for this guy. He’s vicious.
But Jagger’s not
getting the same message. Or if he is, he thinks he can handle it.

“How’s it work?” he asks, in full reporter mode. “Tell me
everything.”

A third boy takes over. He’s the one who either did the
research or played before. “First, you step on the box. Then you go up on your
toes with the rope around your neck and let yourself hang. The rush comes in
just a few minutes.”

“Why’s it called Pass Out?” Jagger asks.

“Because you might pass out. Not everyone does. That’s why the
box is there. So you can get down.”

Raul notices my head shaking. “Val? What is it?”

“The box was on its side when I showed up. There’s no way he
could reach it.”

Raul clenches his teeth. “Which means Jagger either kicked it
when he tried to get down or someone knocked it over.”

For the next few minutes, we listen to a plan designed by a
devil. The members of MP get Jagger up on the box, bring one end of the rope
over to the wall, tie it to the radiator and make sure it’ll hold. Beside me,
Raul looks like he wants to punch the screen. I grip the arms of the chair,
steeling myself for the final descent into hell.

At last, they’re ready. It’s hard to tell by sound alone if
Jagger puts the rope around his neck himself or if someone helps. Then…nothing.
The entire group seems to have stopped breathing. The eerie silence goes on—and
on. Finally, there’s a shout: “He did it. He passed out.”

A new voice speaks up, someone we haven’t heard before. This
person must be in the back, because it’s hard to hear. I think the words are
“It’s done. Can we…down—”

Crash!

Raul glances at me. My mouth is so dry, I can only nod. That’s
me falling into a piece of equipment.

“Uh-oh.” It’s Ghost Face. “Somebody’s here.”

Skeletor yells, “Evacuate. Now!”

Instantly, we hear the sound of retreating feet and a
bang
when the box falls. The next voice we hear, just
a few minutes later, is mine. Calling Jagger’s name. Full of fear—yet not even
close to understanding the horror that’s to come.

I would do anything to hit Pause and then Delete, Delete,
Delete. If only I could make what happened vanish with a click of the mouse.

* * *

The camera’s memory runs out sometime during the
ambulance ride. When it’s over, Raul paces. I stare at the screen. “I can’t
believe I let him go through with it—”