Mania (4 page)

Four
Parker

I sat on the couch with Finn watching a behind-the-scenes documentary on the making of an old Bruce Lee movie. Finn's shirt today was one of my favorites. It said,
Dear Math, I'm not a therapist. Solve your own problems
.

Classic Finn.

Addie and Mia were supposed to be here soon, and I was having a hard time sitting still while I waited. I needed Addie. Everything with my brother had been so uncomfortable lately, and she somehow always knew exactly the right thing to say or do to make me feel better.

Jack had been gone for over an hour. He'd probably reached Logandale by now. As always, his first instinct was to leave me behind. I was sure I could've helped somehow … if he'd let me.

I was getting really sick of being shut out.

The doorbell rang. I hopped up immediately and went to answer it. Addie smiled at me brightly from the porch steps and my tension began to seep away immediately. Mia stood just behind her and gave a little wave.

“Are you ready?” Addie asked.

“Yeah, Jack's gone. Come on in.” I leaned over for a quick kiss before backing toward my room. “I'll grab the laptop and meet you guys at the table.”

Addie had her pen and notebook out by the time I came back. The TV was off and the three of them were waiting expectantly for me to return with the laptop.

Addie scanned her notes. “So, last time we were looking for references to Eclipse and came up pretty empty—”

Finn interrupted. “If you're certain we should rule out any reference to vampires … ”

“I'm sure.” I laughed as I opened the computer and pushed the power button.

Mia smiled at Finn and shook her head before giving me a sympathetic glance. “And the time before that, we looked up your dad.”

“Right.” I popped the knuckles on my right hand and forced myself not to show how much it hurt me to talk about him. “Didn't find much there either, except for the police reports from when Mom reported him missing.”

“So what do we research this time?” Mia asked.

I scratched the back of my neck and thought for a minute. “Let's look up any news about Benton Air Force Base first.”

“Got it.” Addie jotted my suggestion onto her list and I typed the words into my browser. Finn scooted around the end of the table and read over my shoulder.

“Most of these are about the base closing in 1987 … ” I glanced over at Finn as I scrolled down the page. “Let me know if you see anything different.”

He nodded and squinted as he stared at the screen.

Midway down, I spotted an article from last month. “Here's one.”

Opening it, I skimmed through, reading the important parts aloud. “
Base used to be a central training hub for new Air Force pilots
…
it stood vacant and abandoned for so many years
… ” Then I stopped and stared at the words.

“What?” Addie asked, but I couldn't find my voice to answer.

Finn took over for me, sounding like he felt guilty for even speaking the words. “
Until an explosion rocked the base in the early morning hours yesterday. Initial reports indicate some kind of gas leak may have caused the explosion, but the investigation is ongoing.
”

I swallowed hard and scrolled further down.

Finn continued before I even had a chance to speak, and I was grateful. “
Reports have come in that bodies were found among the rubble, and it is believed that some of the local homeless population may have been using the base for shelter …
”

I stared at the words. My dad could've been one of the bodies they found. They might have buried him a month ago with a plain marker and no name. The thought made me feel sick, and I pushed out my chair abruptly and got to my feet. My friends didn't say a word as I walked past them and into the backyard.

After a minute, Addie came out to sit with me. She slipped her hand into mine and sat in silence. I watched a family of bluebirds nesting in a tree a few feet away. They flitted about from branch to branch, chirping to each other—singing. It was nice. Soothing, somehow.

“Finn finished the search.” Addie's voice was soft and tinged with worry. “That was the only article written about the base in the last ten years.”

“What if they found my dad and buried him somewhere?” I asked after thirty more seconds of silence, looking into her hazel eyes. “What if he has a grave and we can't find him? We can't visit … can't mourn him right. No one had a funeral or showed up for him.”

“You both showed up.” Addie shook her head hard. “You and Jack tried to save him, and instead, he saved you. Don't take the meaning of that away.”

“I know.” I sighed and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. Addie rubbed her hand gently across my back. “I just wish there was somewhere I could go to feel close to him again. The base has been the only thing I had … and now, knowing they removed some of the bodies, I'm not sure it would feel the same anymore.”

“Your dad didn't sound like the type to stay in one place.” Addie rubbed the tips of her fingers across my knuckles as she thought. “Given the choice, he probably wouldn't have wanted a grave anyway. Judging from the way he lived his life, he probably would've wanted to be scattered in the breeze somewhere.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the truth in her words slightly mend my pain. Jack hadn't answered most of my questions about our dad yet, but still, I knew this part was true.

“And if you need a place to feel like you're close to him … ” Addie leaned over, resting her head on my shoulder. “You figure out where you want that to be, and find your own way to say goodbye. You know we'll all be there with you whenever you need.”

I sat up straight and wrapped both of my arms around her, kissing her softly. “You know I love you, right?”

“You better.” She grinned up at me and winked. “I'm kind of awesome.”

“You're extremely awesome.”

“Glad you think so.” Addie tucked my hair back, then she kissed my neck lightly and my heart sped up. She whispered, “Because I love you back.”

Finn cleared his throat from the doorway and we both pulled back to look at him. He was staring straight up at the sky like he couldn't handle glancing directly at us.

“It's safe to look.” Addie laughed. “You know that seeing us kiss won't burn out your eyes or anything.”

“Eh … better not to risk it,” Finn muttered as he walked out to us holding a large yellow envelope. “This just got dropped off. It's addressed to you, Parker.”

I took it, assuming it was probably some packet of college information. Now that Mom and I agreed I had a future to plan for, I swear she'd started requesting info packets from every university this side of the Mississippi.

But when I flipped it over to check out which school had caught her attention this time, there was no return address label. And when I read my name, my heart skipped a beat. That handwriting … I may not have been able to understand the formula Dad gave Jack, but I'd looked at it enough times to recognize his sloppy scribbles.

I didn't know how or why, but I'd just received a package from my dead father.

FIVE
Jack

This spot
had
to be it. I'd been thinking about it for a while—it was the only spot that made sense. Dad had always planned to hide something on the lot. He tried to leave something small buried everyplace we stayed, and we'd stayed at this place the longest.

I stopped digging for a minute. The day was getting warmer, and even though it wasn't noon yet, it was still mid-summer and the manual labor made me sweat. Wiping my hand across my forehead, I looked over at Chloe. She'd spread out my leather jacket on the dusty ground and was sitting on it.

I remembered Dad wearing that jacket while he explained why the spot between the tree and the barren patch of ground we practiced fighting on was the best place to bury something.

“You can't choose your spots based on anything that will change,” he'd said, pacing back and forth between the two landmarks to keep warm in the chill fall air. “Shrubs or other plants come and go with seasons. Rocks are too easy to move or kick around unless they're big, heavy boulders. Trees will grow, but that only makes them easier to find.”

He'd grinned at me and I'd smiled back as he drew an X in the ground in front of him with his toe. “Right here is perfect.”

I'd shaken my head, not quite following. “Why? The tree is ten feet away.”

“Right below a tree is the first place I'd look, wouldn't you?” He moved to the spot where he'd killed all the plant life with rock salt and then pivoted to face the tree. “So you find two landmarks that aren't going to change. And then bury it right in the middle.”

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,
fam
ily
, 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 couldn'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.