Mania (3 page)

Parker shook his head before I'd even finished my question. “I'm coming.”

“No,” I replied, trying to make it clear from my tone that there was no room for argument.

“You need my help.”

“I do, but not this time.” I tossed him the motorcycle keys and he caught them on instinct before they hit his chest. Chloe had left, probably angry with me for what I'd said, but I still lowered my voice when I continued. “You can help me most by staying here in case it takes longer than I think. Keep an eye on things. Watch Chloe, and keep her out of the lab. The Takers are still too shaken to do much—what Dad did set them back years. His explosion destroyed the little bit of Eclipse he'd made, as well as their only access to the formula. But like I said, they'll be gearing up for a fight soon. You need to watch for signs of it coming.”

Parker still looked like he wanted to argue, so I turned and walked out the door toward the van before he got a chance. Besides, I did have a point, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Something told me the Takers weren't just going to forgive and forget how Dad blew up half the base, all of the Eclipse formula, some of the Takers who'd held him captive … and himself.

My heart throbbed with an empty ache in my chest, and I pushed the thought away.

Living with a target on my back was never comfortable, but it was also the only thing I'd ever known. Dad had taught me to be smart and survive this way. He'd wanted Parker to have something different, a more normal life. I would do my best to make sure Parker still had it, even now.

As I passed through the garage, I grabbed a shovel and some rope.

“Planning to bury people, are we?” Finn asked in a cheery voice from somewhere behind me.

“Could be … or to dig them up.”

I guess they could tell I wasn't in a joking mood, because no one commented again.

I grunted as I hefted everything up and placed it in the passenger side of the white van we'd stolen from the Takers' base. When I'd learned that Mason, one of the prisoners we'd rescued, hadn't destroyed the van like we'd planned, I asked him to give it back. It came in handy for projects when my motorcycle just wasn't going to cut it.

I glanced around the yard to see if Chloe had come out here. I'd wanted to at least give her a quick wave before I left, but she was nowhere in sight. She must've disappeared again; not all that surprising. If there was anything I'd learned about her over the past month, it was that she had a tendency to come and go whenever and wherever she pleased, with no warning.

In that respect, I guessed she was a lot like me.

Parker was leaning against the driver's side of the van when I walked around. I wrapped one arm around his shoulder in a quick hug that also helped move him somewhat out of the way. “Take care of yourself. They know who you are, but they'll probably be afraid to retaliate for everything when they're so desperate to get Eclipse back. They probably think we're the only people who might have a clue how to make it.”

“You're the only one who might have a clue.” Parker pulled back and frowned. “That formula Dad gave you looks like gibberish to me.”

“First, they don't know you don't understand it, and
please
don't tell them.” I leveled my gaze at him, forcing myself not to react to his eyes. “Second, without the last three ingredients, the formula isn't useful to anyone—myself included.”

“Right.” Parker didn't move from where he stood, blocking me from closing the door and leaving. “Are you sure you can't wait another day or that I can't come with you? I still have so many questions, and you promised to tell me more about Da—”

“I'm sure.” I nudged him out of the way with my arm and closed the door. “And we'll have time for questions and answers later … after I've finished this.”

I stretched my neck to one side, forcing myself not to dwell on the hurt my brother was struggling to keep from showing on his face. This conversation was complicated, and I was itching to get moving. I was already past tired. It had been too long since I'd slept in a Builder's dreams. Addie, Finn's sister, was the only Builder I knew in this town, and since Parker and Addie had gotten their relationship problems worked out, it seemed weird to step in. Not to mention that she was busy being
his
Builder.

The more time I spent with Addie—awake or asleep—the more I had to remind myself that she was unavailable. I'd avoided her dreams except when things were getting really bad. And although her friend Mia was no Builder, her self-hypnosis-induced dreams had helped me more than I'd expected. But still, they weren't the same as a Builder's dreams.

And figuring out Dad's formula required me to be alert and rested. That meant one thing for certain—after I checked out the old Logandale spot, I would go to the Night Walker rebel camp at Cypress Crest and see Libby. I really was tired, and she was the best Builder I'd ever met. Plus, I missed her. The two months I'd been with Parker were the longest we'd gone without seeing each other since we were kids. It felt weird being apart like this.

And, between Addie and Parker being together and the newest romantic developments between Mia and Finn, there was yet another reason I needed to get out of here. It was getting very …
gooey
lately.

Although I had to admit it was almost worth it to watch Chloe around Addie and Mia. She would get a stiff spine and a wary look in her eyes every time they were nearby—it was like she was afraid those girls might accidentally touch her and make her soft.

I'd tell her she could use a little softening, if she asked me—which was probably why she'd never ask.

“Well, I'd better get going.” I looked at Parker through the window of the van. “I have my phone. Keep me updated and be careful.”

He nodded reluctantly and took a few steps back.

I waved at Finn and put the van in reverse. The vehicle was far from nice, but it belonged to me now—I'd secured it with fresh plates after I got back it from Mason. It felt like a better choice for this mission than my bike, since I didn't know what or who I might need to bring back with me. Also, I could sleep in the backseat if it turned out Dad's paranoia would make this quest long and complicated.

Parker walked back up to my open window and I kept my foot on the brake. “So, three missing pieces, huh?”

“Yep.”

“You really think you can figure this out?”

I let out a fast puff of air and the speedometer in front of me fogged. The tension from that one question tightened every muscle in my upper body. If we had the key to helping the Takers sleep—and survive, then there was hope they
might
come to an agreement with us. The Night Walker Society could finally be what it was intended to be when it was founded: a place of refuge for people who lived in a world of nightmares. A place to escape to a life worth living. It could be what Dad had always wanted it to be—what I still wanted it to be.

“Dad thought I could.” I swallowed hard and met my brother's eyes.

Instantly, my heart ached. While Parker had spent years getting used to the idea of never seeing Dad again, I'd only had a month … and the gaping hole Dad left didn't seem to be healing very fast.

“Guess his faith will have to be enough,” I added.

Parker put his hand on my shoulder and gave it one final squeeze. “That's good enough for me.”

Three
Jack

It took an hour to get to Logandale and another half-hour to find the remote patch of land where the trailer was parked when Dad and I had lived here. That was shortly after Mom had died and he'd come back to Cypress Crest to get me. When he took me away from the rebel camp and brought me out to the middle of nowhere, I'd wondered what he was planning to do with me.

I hopped out, grabbing the shovel from the passenger side. The brush on the land was wild, having gotten way past overgrown in the couple of years since I'd been here. One particular bush was still misshapen in the back from where I used to climb under it when Dad called out for me to hide. I could almost hear his barking order echoing across the open air, bouncing off the empty land: “Jack, now—
GO
.”

It happened regularly. Sometimes someone was heading our way. Sometimes he just wanted to test me.

Either way, I'd gotten very good at hiding.

It felt so weird to be able to openly refer to Danny as my dad. I'd always known he was—it wasn't ever kept a secret from me, but it was something we never shared with anyone else. He told some people that he was looking out for a friend's kid, others that he was training me; whatever lie he felt worked best for the situation.

But I was
never
allowed to call him “Dad” even in private. He was afraid I might then slip up in public and somehow reveal our secret. Parker was the only thing he felt vulnerable about; he was terrified people could use Parker to hurt him. His son, his weak spot.

He could never let his enemies find out he had more than one of us.

In the back of my mind, I remembered the only time I'd called him Dad. I was eight, and it just took two seconds for him to lift me up and pin my back against the wall.

“
Danny
—not Dad,” he growled, glancing over his shoulder even though we were completely alone. “
Never Dad
… do you understand?”

My lungs burned with the need for air, but I was proud I kept my emotions in check as I nodded. He released me and I slid down the wall.

He might have been rough, but his tactics worked. I'd never made that mistake again.

I surveyed the land, trying to remember everything as it was the last time I'd been here, five years ago. Ten feet in front of me stood the remains of the makeshift fire pit where we'd cooked our meals many nights. Ten feet to my right was the spot Dad had set up a target and taught me to use first a slingshot, then a BB gun, and eventually throwing knives. About a mile over the rise to the left, he'd set up a shooting range and taught me to fire a rifle and then a handgun. We'd been here longer than anywhere, but almost every sign of it was gone now. How fast Mother Nature could wipe away every footstep we'd left behind.

My feet took me further into the lot without a thought to guide them. There was a clear spot here where nothing grew. No weeds, no wildflowers—no beauty of the land broke through this soil. A vivid memory came floating back; Dad had poured so much rock salt in this spot I wasn't sure if anything would ever grow here again. I smiled tightly and my chest twisted with bittersweet pain. Even nature couldn't erase Dad completely.

Dust swirled around my feet as a breeze kicked up. I could still see Dad standing across the empty lot from me, waiting for me to attack—teaching me to fight—teaching me to kill.

“Come at me high.” He bent his knees and waited. His eyes, always rimmed with shadows and exhaustion, somehow still looked alert and ready for whatever attack I had planned.

I'd circled him, hands up, blocking as I searched his stance, his body, and his eyes for weakness.
Find the weakness and you've won
. He'd taught me that lesson time and again. There was always a weakness.

Then I saw it—the slight dragging of his right foot, the smallest hint there was something wrong. He'd been cornered by some Takers the day before. I knew there'd been a fight, but he'd said everything was fine when he came home. Standing up straight, I dropped my hands and stepped forward.

“You got hurt?”

He pounced before I could take a breath. I got one arm up in time to absorb the blow from his fist, but he swung his right foot out—the one he'd been dragging only an instant before—and I was on my back, his forearm cutting off my oxygen before I could blink.

I struggled against him. Pushing and shoving with all my strength, fighting for the air I knew I needed. But I was only eleven, and he had me out-muscled and out-maneuvered on every side. As always, Dad kept me trapped until my vision started to darken and my body shook with the desperate ache for air before releasing me.

Coughing, I rolled onto my side to face him as rich, sweet oxygen flowed into my lungs and through my veins. He paced in front of me with no sign of injury, the slight limp from before completely gone. My head pounded as I climbed to my feet.

“You—you're not hurt?” Still dizzy, I rested my hands on my knees to regain my balance.

“No.” He looked a little sad behind his smile and I wondered how much I'd disappointed him.

“Then why—?”

“Because, Jack.” He shook his head and sighed. “I was going after
your
weakness.”

As I stepped across the overgrown lot now, I heard a light second step somewhere behind me. Abruptly, my instincts brought my mind fully back to the present. There was someone else here—right here, right now—and they were setting my senses on edge.

I casually moved another step forward, behaving exactly as before but now with all my focus on my stalker, whoever it was. I kicked a rock across the landscape and watched it bounce as I rested my shovel on the ground in front of me.

There … a crunch of dirt, behind me to the left. Then a muffled footstep, two … I waited again, another moment until he was close enough. Now—

I spun into a crouch and grabbed the two sneakered feet in front of me. I didn't recognize the vibrant purple laces until I'd already jerked up and toward me.

Chloe fell hard onto her back, and I had her pinned to the ground before she could react. Her wide gray eyes stared at me in shock as she struggled to catch the breath I'd knocked out of her. A strand of her white-blond hair was stuck to her dark eyelashes and she blinked, trying to make it fall away.

Reaching up, I hooked one finger under the strand and pulled it to the side. My motion caught her off guard, and she watched me closely as she panted. My heart beat fast in my chest and I quickly moved off her. Chloe was very smart, and she already knew how to get under my skin.

I wasn't about to show her that there were probably a few more ways she could do that.

“What are you doing here?” I kept my voice low and my anger in check, forcing back the guilt I felt when she winced and rubbed the back of her head.

“What do you think, genius? I snuck into the back of your van because I can't get enough of the smell of oil and old upholstery?” She struggled up onto her elbows. “I'm here to help.”

“You shouldn't have come.” I hopped to my feet and held out a hand to her, but she glared at it and stood up on her own.

“Let me help.” A weed was tangled up in the hair on the right side of her head. I stared at it, trying to decide whether it was a good idea to touch her again.

She shifted her weight to one side and rubbed her hands against her jeans to brush the dirt off. Her eyes never left me, and finally she said, “What are you looking at?”

I grunted under my breath. My hand approached and she froze, eyeing me warily.

Taking another step closer, I closed my fingers around her shoulder and reached for the weed. Once I'd freed it, I held it in front of her eyes before releasing it to the ground at our feet. “Why?”

She cleared her throat twice. “W-why what?”

“Why would you even want to come with me?” The skin of her shoulder had felt hot beneath my fingers. I flexed my hand as I dropped it back to my side.

She bent forward, flipping her hair upside down and running her fingers through the strands to shake out another weed and some dirt. Then she stood upright and was suddenly very close—too close—but I wasn't going to be the one to back away.

She finally answered. “Because I want to make sure you aren't going to disappear or back out on me, Jack. This is too important to me … to all of us.”

I sighed. “Do you trust anyone?”

“No.”

“Why don't you go home to your family?” I watched her for any reaction. After monitoring her for those first couple weeks, I'd eased up. I'd figured my options were either to let her go—and, if she betrayed us, not save her life with the new formula—or tie her up and watch her constantly. I didn't have time to do that, and Parker's mom would definitely have frowned on me keeping a prisoner in the storage room.

“I—” She looked away and withdrew a step, turning her back on me. “I just need to make sure you don't forget our deal.”

“Fine, but the first time you get in my way or slow me down … ”

“I won't.” She glanced at me over her shoulder, her sudden smile distracting.

I bent over and picked up my shovel, muttering as I walked over to the spot where our trailer had once been parked. “It isn't if, it's when.”

It was clear from Chloe's expression that she'd heard me and didn't appreciate it. She gestured at the area I'd been pacing on earlier. “I hate to interrupt all of … this, but are you just going to walk around and stare at the ground all day or are we here trying to accomplish something?”

I pushed my knuckles hard against my forehead, fighting off the wave of memories that threatened to wrap me up and wash away what was left of me. “We'll do something.”

“And what's that?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“We're going to dig, and I don't know how deep we have to go.” My voice was grimmer than I intended, but her attitude was bothering me and we'd only just started.

When she walked over, I passed her the shovel and plastered a cold grin on my face. “You get to go first.”