The Book of Joby (109 page)

Rose watched with mild disappointment as people left the beach in larger numbers. It was not the ending she’d have chosen, but it had been a tremendous day, and more than served its purpose. By sunset, a lot of older folks and tourists had already left. The young, always last to abandon a party, were soon left gathered in loose rings around each of the three bonfires, sipping drinks and milking the afterglow for all it was worth. Rose stood in one of these with Ander, Blue, and Nacho, when Joby came to join them.

“It was a really wonderful party, Rose,” he said. “I haven’t had this much fun in ages. It felt really good. Thanks.”

Rose smiled. “You’re welcome, Joby. Thanks for coming.”

“So, how’s Hawk doing?” Joby said a little too casually. “I noticed you were talking to him earlier.”

Rose reached out to squeeze his hand, then pulled him off toward the water. “I’m sorry he hasn’t come to see you, Joby,” she said when they had left the firelight. “I tried to tell him he should, but—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Joby said softly, tugging her to a stop. “That’s not your problem and not what I meant. I . . . just wondered how he’s doing and figured you would know.”

“To be honest, I have no idea,” Rose sighed. “He’s changed so much, and . . . not any for the better, I think. All he talks about is how much money he’s going to make and how . . .” She shook her head and looked Joby sadly in the eye. “He talks as if I were just some kind of trophy he intends to win or maybe
buy
someday, as if he doesn’t know I’m already his. It breaks my heart, Joby. Maybe you were lucky not to see him.”

“I’ve hurt him pretty badly, haven’t I?” Joby said, looking down.

“I don’t think it’s you,” Rose insisted. “Not just you anyway. He’s been like this for a while now. I don’t know why, and I don’t think he does either.”

“You’re probably right,” said Joby, not sounding too convinced.

Someone sent a bottle rocket into the air from the grassy dunes behind them. It went up with a shrill whistle, quickly followed by another, just as Blue came running up to say, “Hey, you guys, someone came down to say the sheriff’s telling everybody to get off the beach. You think we ought to go?”

“Why?” asked Joby. “It’s illegal to stand around a fire on the beach now?”

Before Blue could answer, three more bottle rockets shrilled into the air.

“Fools,” Joby griped. “That
is
illegal. Do they think antagonizing him will help?”

“Look at that!” Donaldson spat, watching the second wave of rockets go up. “Flagrant little bastards.”

“Probl’y all high as kites,” said one of his patrolmen. All four officers were here now, full riot gear waiting back in their cars in case things got really out of hand.

Donaldson shook his head in disbelief. He’d sent none of his men down to the beach itself yet, knowing that most of his intended targets would run the minute a uniformed officer showed up. He didn’t want a single one of them to get away before all the exits had been covered.

“I didn’t know this town had that many kids,” said his second patrolman.

“A lot of ’em prob’ly aren’t from here,” said the first officer. “Gang types, most likely, come in for the party. Saw it all the time when I was down in L.A. Word of some big rave like this gets out, they come from all around.”

“How many would you say we got down there?” asked Donaldson. His head was spinning. Only the crowds around the fires were clearly visible, but there was lots of vague movement in the darkness back from the beach and under the bridge. If they were all inebriated, this could get very, very ugly in a hurry.

“Could be a hundred,” said the officer who’d been in L.A. “Maybe one fifty.”

Just then Donaldson’s fourth officer rejoined them, having been sent to radio the backup they’d called in from Heeberville an hour before. “They say ten minutes,” the patrolman reported. “Maybe less.”

“Good,” said Donaldson. “Those kids have responded to my evacuation order with fireworks. This thing could come apart at any minute. When the backup gets here I want us all ready to move, so get geared up now.” He turned to the officer who’d just been in contact with the force from Heeberville. “You told them where to deploy? Down there, at the bridge flats, and up there on the west end of the headlands?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You think they understood?”

“Most of ’em seem to know Taubolt, sir.”

Donaldson turned back to look at the beach again. “I’ve got you now,” he muttered under his breath. “Every last fucking one of you.”

“So, think we should leave?” Blue asked again.

“I’ll go up and try to talk with him,” Joby said.

“I’ll come with you,” Blue offered.

Just then a third phalanx of bottle rockets burst above the dunes behind them.

Joby rolled his eyes, and turned to Rose. “Maybe someone could go tell those yahoos to cut it out?”

She smiled and nodded, heading off into the darkness as he and Blue left for the trail up off the beach.

They’d barely reached the stairs when they heard sirens in the distance.

“What’s that about?” said Blue.

“I don’t know,” Joby said. “They’re coming from the south. What’s down there?”

“Avalon Ridge.” Blue shrugged.

By then, the sirens had grown much louder. “There’s a bunch of them,” said Joby.

“That can’t be . . . for us, can it?” Blue asked.

“Don’t be crazy,” Joby said. “Maybe there’s a fire.”

Suddenly, a line of flashing lights appeared; three patrol cars racing across the bridge. On the bluffs above himself and Blue, Joby heard more sirens. In stunned disbelief he watched two of the vehicles skid to a halt beside the river on the far side of the bridge, their lights still flashing, while more flashing lights appeared atop the cliffs west of the beach. From around the fires below them, there was utter silence as everyone stared in speechless confusion.

“Holy shit,” Blue said.

“This cannot be for us,” Joby said quietly. “This cannot have
anything
to do with us. Something else must have gone down by the river.”

“Like what?” Blue said, his voice edged with budding panic.

“This is crazy,” Joby said. “Come on.” He began to climb the stairs again, two at a time, heedless of his footing in the dim light from the beach fires.

As they reached the cliff tops, Joby could not believe his eyes. A column of officers in full riot gear was coming down the path, silhouetted against the twilight.

“Oh crap,” Blue whispered.

As the officers approached, Joby said with careful calm, “Can I ask what’s happening here, please?”

“You’d better go,” said a voice he recognized as Donaldson’s.

“What’s anybody done to merit all this?” Joby asked, trying not to sound belligerent.

“I said, go, Mr. Peterson,” Donaldson repeated. As the column clearly didn’t mean to stop, Joby and Blue stood aside in mute dismay.

“What are they
doing
?” Blue murmured.

Joby saw still more officers gathering in the parking area across the field ahead, and set out to get an answer to Blue’s question. The first officer they encountered only shrugged and said he wasn’t sure what was going on, but recommended, as Donaldson had, that they leave immediately.

“Can they just do this?” Joby asked.

Before the officer could answer, they heard voices shouting from the beach. Then a crowd of kids appeared at the top of the stairs, running like their lives depended on it. Close behind came two riot-gear clad officers,
dragging a third person crying out in pain between them. They were followed by a second group of kids, shouting angrily at the officers ahead of them.

As the first wave of teenagers ran past, Joby was finally able to make out who was being dragged by handcuffed arms wrenched up behind his back. “My God!” Joby gasped. “It’s Ander!” Then Joby saw that Nacho led the pack of angry youth behind them, copious streams of blood flowing down his upper lip and chin.

In a state of shock, thinking to flee upriver, Rose had run with many others toward the bridge when all the lights and sirens had appeared. But before she’d gotten halfway there, a hand out of the darkness grabbed her arm and wrenched her to a halt.

“Not that way!” hissed Hawk’s voice. “They’re parked out on the flats!”

“What’s happening?” Rose cried as Hawk dragged her up the hillside through the bushes. “Why are they doing this?”

“I don’t know,” Hawk growled. “But there’s no room in my plans for an arrest record. We have to get out of here!”

As they neared the top of the steep hillside, they heard others crashing through the undergrowth nearby.

“Who’s that?” Hawk whispered, stopping in his tracks.

“Hawk?” came Tholomey’s voice.

“Tholomey,” said Hawk. “Who’s with you?”

“Jessie and Autumn,” answered Tholomey, as his trio ran to join Hawk and Rose. “They’re up on the headlands too. I could swim out, but these guys are all stuck. We’ve gotta get past the cops and into town somehow.”

“Why are they doing this?” Rose demanded again.

“ ’Cause Donaldson hates us,” Tholomey said grimly. “I hear he’s got Ander. Have you seen my brother?”

“He went up with Joby to talk to Donaldson,” Rose replied.

“Oh, that’s just awesome,” Tholomey groaned. “Right into the fire.”

In shock, Joby had watched the nightmare go from terrible to worse before his eyes. Illuminated by the headlights of several patrol cars, an enraged crowd of boys shouted angry accusations at officers trying to contain the escalating conflict. As Ander had been shoved into the backseat of one of the cars, his bleeding wrists still cuffed, Blue had rushed to join the others shouting for their friend’s release, only to be grabbed by one of the officers, thrown
against the car in dumbfounded amazement, handcuffed, and pushed into the backseat next to Ander. This had only redoubled the outrage of the others, who stood ten or twelve feet off yelling angrily that this was bullshit and against the law. Within minutes, officers had darted forward to yank two more boys into cuffs and shove them inside other cars.