Sacrifices (12 page)

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Authors: Mercedes Lackey,Rosemary Edghill

Tags: #Mystery, #Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: Sacrifices
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“So I guess you had a … clubhouse?” she asked awkwardly, when Wolfman showed signs of slowing down. She had to figure out how to ask him about Oakhurst, but the more she saw of him, the harder doing that seemed.

“Shhh!” he said sharply, looking around. “The aliens can listen through the electricity. That’s why I took out all the wires. But it’s okay. We’re safe here.”

That was something Spirit doubted more by the minute.

“Sure we are,” Burke said easily. “So it’s okay to talk about it, right? Or else you wouldn’t have let us in.”

“That’s right,” Wolfman said, apparently completely willing to believe Burke. “Because Kenny said run. Kenny said run. I wanted to look for Kenny, but I never saw him again. Do you know where he is?”

“I don’t. I’m sorry,” Burke said. “Why did Kenny tell you to run?”

“I was in Vietnam. Me and Kenny. That’s how it started. It wasn’t a real war—it was a government cover-up because of the alien invasion. We got rid of them, you know, but then the government wanted to get rid of us, because we’d seen their secret ninja base, and we’d seen the aliens. They look like giant black snakes—with wings—and they can walk through walls but only when the electricity is on, so I don’t use electricity anymore. The mansion was safe too, because it didn’t have any electricity.…”

If Wolfman had seemed only a little confused when he’d let them into the house, he’d gone rapidly downhill. But they had to find out what had happened.

“But it wasn’t safe, was it?” Spirit asked daringly. “Something happened.”

“Kenny said run,” Wolfman repeated, sounding forlorn. For a moment Spirit thought he wasn’t going to say anything else, but when he began to talk again, the vague hesitancy was gone from his voice, and he sounded like the man he must have been almost forty years before. “The night of the big storm there was bad voodoo going down. We all knew it. Couldn’t go for a run in the storm, and Bobby’d had a fight with his old lady, and Roadhog wouldn’t let up. Only … I guess it wasn’t Bobby after all, ’cause him and ’hog were friends. It was one of the aliens. They’d followed us back to our world. And it shot Roadhog, and that opened the interdimensional warp-gate to let the aliens out of the shadow universe and Kenny said run—Kenny said run, Wolfie, run, run, run—and there was blood everywhere and the shadows came out of the blood and Trace was gone, and Bobby was gone, and Preach was gone and I ran and I ran…”

His voice had gone high and shaky while he was talking; he drew a sobbing breath and scrubbed at his eyes. Under the edge of the table, Burke reached for her hand, and Spirit clutched his gratefully. It was easy enough to read between the lines: Bobby killed Roadhog—somehow freeing Mordred from the oak tree—and half the Hellriders ended up as Shadow Knights and the other half ended up dead.

How is this my life?
Spirit thought bitterly. This wasn’t even the creepiest thing that had happened to her this week!

“I’m the only one who remembers,” Wolfman finished sadly. “And I will always remember, because if I remember, the ninja aliens can’t win.”

He got to his feet and walked over to the refrigerator. When he opened it, it was dark inside (no electricity), and he obviously used it for storage. He brought out a flat object wrapped in an old t-shirt and set it on the table in front of them.

“This is me and Kenny,” he said, unwrapping it. “See?”

The framed photo was old and faded. It looked like something out of a movie. Two young men wearing jungle fatigues, arms around each other’s shoulders, grinning at the camera. “Kenny was my best friend. Kenny said run, Kenny said run. You haven’t seen Kenny, have you?” Wolfman asked again plaintively.

Beside her, Spirit heard Burke draw a quick startled breath.

What would you do if I said I saw Kenny this morning?
she thought wildly.

One of the men in the photograph was clearly Stephen Wolferman, at a much younger age. And the man standing beside him—
Kenny
—could only be Doctor Ambrosius.

Kenny, who’d told Wolfman to run the night of the “Hellriders Massacre.”

If Dr. Ambrosius had been Kenny then, had he had magic? If not, how had he gotten it? How had he become … him?

Was there any chance they’d found—Merlin?

*   *   *

They made their escape as quickly as they could after seeing the photo. Wolfman had told them all he could, and—everything else aside—if they spent too long here, Muirin might just go back to Oakhurst by herself.

“That was…” Spirit said as soon as they’d reached the road. It seemed darker and more threatening now than it had when they’d arrived. She had the feeling of being watched, even though there wasn’t anyone in sight, but at least she wasn’t sitting in a kitchen full of candles and crosses listening to somebody talk about an alien conspiracy.

“Poor guy,” Burke said. “But I guess we’ve got our proof now.”

Spirit shivered, but not because of the cold. “Maybe,” she said hesitantly. There was something about Wolfman’s story that didn’t make sense, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“Wish we could’ve taken the picture with us—you know, for proof,” Burke said.

“Maybe we can find a copy of it somewhere,” Spirit said absently.
Muirin could. If only I—

There was a sharp crack, and she jumped and squeaked.

“Branch coming down,” Burke said reassuringly, pointing. “Lotta ice still on the trees.”

“I guess,” Spirit said doubtfully. “Hurry up. I’m freezing,” she added, walking faster.

They passed the library and walked on into town. Most of Main Street was closed up and dark, but The Fortress was lit up as bright as day (Spirit thought it would probably still be lit up at midnight; what a waste of energy), so there was plenty of light to see by. As they got further into town, she could see there were a lot of cars on the street, for some reason.

“Looks like they got tired of their fancy rec room,” Burke said, sounding disgusted. He nodded toward the pizza joint, one of the few storefronts that was lit up. It was crammed with people. Spirit recognized Clark and Mandy from Breakthrough and a few other people she’d seen around Oakhurst but couldn’t put names to.

“I guess they’re boosting the local economy,” she said darkly. Most of the people she could see were Breakthrough employees. “So much for nobody knowing we snuck off campus.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Burke said slowly. Spirit looked at him in confusion. “I’m thinking they might feel better if they think they’ve got something on us. And, well, it isn’t as if they can do much worse to us than they’re doing now.”

“I hope you’re right about that,” Spirit said. She took a deep breath and followed Burke as he crossed the street and pushed open the door.

A couple of the Breakthrough people waved at them as they entered. Feeling oddly guilty, Spirit waved back. The noise—laughter, and a dozen different conversations, and music—was jolting after the quiet of the night outside. It sounded so strange, and after a moment Spirit realized why. Even at the school dances everyone was … careful. They all knew they were being watched—and judged. But there was no sense of that here.

Besides the Breakthrough wonks, there were a bunch of Townies, all within a few years of her age. She recognized Brett and Adam, and she’d have bet real money (if she’d had any) Breakthrough was picking up the tab for everybody’s pizzas and Cokes here tonight. She saw some Oakhurst kids, too—Joe Rogers (of course), Sarah Ellis, and a couple of others whose names she wasn’t sure of.

At least Burke and I aren’t the only ones breaking the rules tonight,
she thought.
But maybe the others aren’t. Maybe they’re being courted by the Shadow Knights. Just the way Muirin is.
Joe looked up when she and Burke walked in, but instead of the sneer she expected to see on his face, Joe just looked thoughtful.

“There’s Murr,” Burke said, pointing.

Muirin was in a booth near the counter. Spirit was relieved to see Ovcharenko wasn’t with her, but she wasn’t alone. There were three people—two men and a woman—sitting in the booth with her. All three of them wore red polo shirts with the Breakthrough logo embroidered on them where the pony or the golfer or the alligator went.

“Way to be inconspicuous,” Spirit groaned quietly. Burke squeezed her hand understandingly.

“Hey, guys, ready to order?” Muirin called when she saw them. “Anything you want! Breakthrough’s buying!” She waved a slice of pizza.

Thought so.
“I kind of want to get back,” Spirit said. “I need to study.”

“Hey, you can’t study all the time,” one of the Breakthrough guys said. “Spirit, isn’t it? Ken Abrams, Graphic Design.” He smiled at her.

“I guess we’ve got time for a slice,” Burke said. “C’mon.”

Ken got up and brought a pie and an armful of Cokes back to the table. The other two Breakthrough people were Judy and Brian; all three of them worked in the graphic design department.

“These two geeks use Photoshop,” Judy said, laughing as she punched Brian in the shoulder. “I’m a paper-and-pencils type myself.”

The three of them were happy enough to monopolize the conversation—mostly about how wonderful working for Breakthrough was, and how you didn’t need to be a hotshot programmer to work there. It would have made a great recruiting pitch if Spirit hadn’t known the truth. She concentrated on her pizza while Brian and Ken tried to convince Burke Breakthrough would be happy to hire him in their motion-capture department. Not as a programmer, but as a model.

“Face it, big guy, slap a horned helmet on your head and put a sword in your hand and you could storm the gates of any citadel we’ve got,” Ken said.

“Nice to know,” Burke said genially. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Fortunately, Muirin was curious enough about what they’d found out to want to leave fairly soon, much to Spirit’s relief. She’d had visions of having to spend hours pretending she wanted to hang out with Muirin’s new friends.

But it was her idea to give Burke that stuff for Wolfman. So no matter what she acts like, she’s on our side.

I hope.

*   *   *

“So. Give!” Muirin said, as soon as they got into the car. At least this time Burke could sit up front—there wasn’t a lot of point to hiding when half of Breakthrough had seen them in Radial tonight. “What did he tell you?”

Maybe if I tell her about the photo, she’ll realize it’s too dangerous to keep leading those guys on the way she is. She always thinks she’s smarter than everyone else, but they’ll figure it out. And then what will happen to her?
“He showed us—” Spirit began.

“According to Mr. Wolferman, Earth has been invaded by alien ninjas from the Shadow Dimension,” Burke said. “I guess I wasn’t counting on much once I saw he’d lined the house with aluminum foil.”

So Burke doesn’t trust Muirin either,
Spirit thought in surprise. She wasn’t sure what to think about that.

“Awww, too bad, Burksie,” Muirin said, snickering. “Hey, I wonder why Ms. Groves hasn’t suggested using aluminum foil against the forces of Eeeevil in magic class? Think I should tell her about it?”

“Yeah, even you would get detention forever if you tried that,” he said. “Just so you know, the alien ninjas look like snakes with dragon wings and can walk through your walls when you have electricity,” Burke continued. “Wolferman says he saw their secret base in Vietnam.”

“Wow.” Muirin shook her head. “That’s messed up. But hey, at least you got a couple of hours outside the prison walls and a pizza out of it.”

“It’s the little things you treasure,” Burke agreed gravely.

*   *   *

“You shouldn’t be out after curfew, Ms. Shae. It isn’t safe.”

Muirin parked up in the motor pool again. The three of them had just gotten out of the car, when one of the Security patrols showed up. There were two of them, wearing black uniforms and—even in the middle of the night—sunglasses. Both of them were armed—and wearing body armor, it looked like.

“Wanna see my pass, Dave?” Muirin said in her brattiest voice.

Dave laughed, lowering the flashlight he’d been shining in their faces. “Guess not. But you be careful. We still haven’t caught that cat yet.”

“When you do, I want seat covers,” Muirin said, waving. Dave laughed and gestured to his partner, and the two of them walked away.

“It’s okay,” Muirin said when they were out of earshot. “They didn’t see you.”

“Thanks,” Burke said. “I know they’re going to know we were down in Radial—”

“—but why make things easy for them?” Muirin finished.

“Yeah, I try not to upset people carrying Uzis,” Burke said dryly, and Muirin laughed.

 

SIX

It was actually a few minutes before curfew when Burke and Spirit got inside, and it was easy enough for them to mingle with the other students heading for their rooms. Their boots and coats attracted no attention—everybody just assumed they’d been outside for a legitimate reason. Still, it was more of a relief than Spirit had expected to reach her room and shut the door. From the moment she’d climbed into the back of Muirin’s car with Burke earlier this evening, she’d been thinking:
This part isn’t very dangerous—and this part isn’t either.
But it all had been, and now that she was safe—as safe as anyone got at Oakhurst—she could let herself realize it.

She hung up her coat and the rest of her outdoor gear—hat, gloves, scarf—in the closet, then sat down on the bed to pull off her snow boots. At least by the time she’d reached the hall in the girls’ dorm wing, her boots had been dry; there wasn’t a single mark on the carpet to show she’d been outside.

Not that Oakhurst needed visible proof you’d done something—she was sure there were some Gifts they weren’t being taught about in class, just so they could be used against them. And if one of the staff had Scrying, and thought about using it …

The five of them were screwed.

Either they don’t have it or they aren’t using it,
she told herself firmly.
And if they haven’t used it yet, why start now?

It was cold comfort, but it was all she had. She pulled out the (red) sweater she’d bought in Billings and shrugged into it. Wearing something that wasn’t in the school colors had never seemed more like an act of defiance, and the fierce joy she felt at defying Oakhurst disturbed her. It could so easily tip over into uncontrolled rage—and if she lost her self-control in this situation, she was doomed.

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