The Gathering

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The Gathering Page 6

by Kelley Armstrong


  "It can be a bit much," I said. "No Starbucks. No clubs. No Aeropostale. Hell, we have to drive an hour just to hang out at the mall. Epic inconvenience."

  The guys struggled to keep straight faces as they nodded.

  "And then there's the"--I lowered my voice--"medical research."

  Her eyes glinted. Bull's-eye.

  "How do you feel about that?" she said. "Living with such secrecy and under such intense security. I mean, they built an entire town to hide their work."

  "I worry that they're hurting bunnies," I said.

  "We aren't supposed to talk about the medical stuff." Daniel looked around, mock-anxious. "We get in a lot of trouble for that."

  Mina nodded. "I understand. But I'd love to chat. Privately."

  She set a time and place for us to meet her after school, then handed me her card and told us to bring along any other kids who wanted to talk.

  EIGHT

  AS SHE WALKED AWAY, Corey rubbed his temple, grimacing.

  Daniel glanced at him. "You got your--?"

  "Headache meds? Yes, Dad. I'll take one when I get inside."

  I handed him Mina's card. "Your mom will want this."

  "I texted her before you guys showed up. Even snapped a photo. She'll pass it on to Mayor Tillson and Dr. Inglis."

  Dr. Inglis was as much a part of town politics as Chief Carling and the mayor. Mina Lee wasn't the first "reporter" to come sniffing around Salmon Creek. From the time we were little, we'd been told how to deal with them.

  As far as we knew, no actual reporter had ever come to cover Salmon Creek. We might be an unusual little town, but we're definitely not worthy of a feature in an American newspaper. We were, however, worthy of attention from activists and competing medical companies. Over the years, we'd had a few activists posing as reporters, searching for evidence of animal testing or stem cell research. Of a bigger concern to the St. Clouds, though, were the corporate spies.

  Drug research is a huge business, with potentially huge profits. Imagine how much you could make if you developed a cure for cancer. Or even the common cold. The St. Clouds built Salmon Creek so they could develop new drugs without rivals peering over their shoulders. But that doesn't mean their rivals don't occasionally send spies to see what they're working on.

  Still, it doesn't take us long to sort out the troublemakers from the tourists. An alert about Mina Lee would go through Salmon Creek before lunch, shutting down all her potential sources of information.

  I told the guys I'd catch up with them later. I had to go in early and prep Mrs. Morris's classroom. No, I'm not a teacher's pet. There's a rule at our school that if you aren't on a sports team, you need to do extra work. Being temporarily off the track team meant I was on teacher-helper duty two mornings a week.

  "Watch out for Rafe," Corey said. "I saw him in the smoking pit."

  "Phony," I muttered.

  "She thinks he's not a real smoker," Daniel explained.

  "He's not. Half the time he doesn't light his cigarette. The other half he takes a couple of puffs and puts it out. It's part of the bad boy package."

  Corey grinned. "Been paying attention, have you?"

  "Maya always pays attention," Daniel said. "She notices everything and has an opinion on it, which she's not afraid to share as frequently and as loudly as possible."

  Corey laughed.

  "Watch it," I said as I walked away, "or I'll share my opinions on what happened last night."

  "Hey, yeah," Corey said. "So what did happen?"

  I left Daniel to explain and went around the school the back way, past the smoking pit. Yes, we had a smoking pit, which is completely weird for a private school owned by a medical company. Kids smoke, though. It's a given, and the more adults try to stop it, the more kids are determined to do it. So the school board designated a smoking pit right beside the furnace room, where the rumble makes it hard to talk. Then they enacted a town bylaw prohibiting the sale of cigarettes to anyone under twenty. Of course, kids can get them elsewhere, but only the most determined bother.

  I was almost at the door when Rafe skirted a crowd of ninth graders and slid in beside me, unsmoked cigarette dangling from his hand.

  "Yes, I had another wild encounter last night," I said as we walked toward the entrance.

  "Really?"

  "That's not what you wanted to talk to me about?"

  "No."

  "Damn."

  He only laughed and grabbed the door for me. We went through. He walked beside me, so close I could smell woodsmoke on his jacket. I thought of warning him that there was a ban on campfires with the dry weather, but that sounded snotty. I'm sure he knew. I'm sure he didn't care.

  I tried to forget he was there. But I could smell the smoke on his jacket, hear the clomp of his boots in the empty hall, even hear him breathing. I could feel him there, too. That sounds weird. I don't know how else to describe it, though. I was just really, really aware that he was walking beside me.

  When we turned the corner, he veered so that his hand brushed mine, and I jerked away.

  "You really don't like me, do you?" he said.

  "I don't know you well enough to say that."

  "Easily fixed. What are you doing after school?"

  I shook my head as I stopped at my locker. He leaned against the one beside it.

  I started my combination. "I suspect I could spend every evening this week with you and I wouldn't know you any better than I do right now."

  "Sure you would. Anything you want to know, I'll tell you."

  "That's the key word, isn't it? What I want to know. Not necessarily the truth."

  His lips twitched with what looked like genuine amusement. "Are you calling me a poseur? I should be offended."

  "You could prove me wrong." I stuffed my bag in, took out my binder, then gestured at the cigarette in his hand. "Smoke that."

  "In here? I think that's against the rules."

  "Which shouldn't bother you at all, if you're the rebel you pretend to be. But that's not what I meant. We'll go outside. I just want to see you smoke the whole thing without coughing."

  "Are you saying I don't smoke?" His brows lifted, then he leaned down so close to my ear I could smell toothpaste. "Maybe, as a guy who changes schools a lot, I've discovered that the best place to meet kids is a smoking pit."

  I paused, hand still on my lock, thrown by his honesty. His grin sparked and I knew that was exactly the point. I snapped the lock shut and headed for the classroom. He fell in step beside me.

  "So, what are you doing after school?" he asked.

  "You don't give up, do you?"

  "Nope, so you might as well surrender now."

  "And that's exactly what will make you back off, isn't it?"

  He arched his brows, as if he had no idea what I was talking about.

  "You like the chase," I said. "But once you get a girl, you back off before you can collect the prize. Kind of missing the point, I think."

  "Huh. You're right. Tell you what, go out with me and you can show me how it's done."

  I'd walked right into that. I headed to the empty classroom, set my books on my desk, and opened the blinds for Mrs. Morris.

  Rafe sat on the edge of a desk. "You're right. I chase hard, but once I get to know a girl, I realize she's not right for me." He met my gaze, his eyes earnest and soulful. "I guess I haven't found the one I'm looking for."

  I sputtered a laugh. "And you think I might be it. The girl you've been yearning for. Dreaming of. Your soul mate." I laughed even harder and shook my head. "Please tell me that line doesn't actually work on--"

  "Rafael ..." said a voice from the door. "I should have known. Cornering girls in classrooms so they can't run away. Desperate. And kind of pathetic."

  As Sam walked in, every trace of good humor drained from Rafe's face. The look he gave her sent a chill through me. And I don't chill easily.

  "I'm talking to Maya," he said, his voice so low it was almost a growl.
r />   "Um, no, you're stalking her."

  His whole body went rigid at that. His gaze flitted my way.

  "We were just talking," I said. I didn't mean to defend him, but there was something about the way Sam lobbed her insults that got my back up.

  "Well, I need to talk to you now, so ..." She flicked her fingers at Rafe. "Shoo. I saw a bunch of eighth graders outside. They're probably more your speed."

  Rafe looked at me. "Is she harassing you?"

  Sam choked on a laugh. "Me? Seriously? Dude, you're the one doing the harassing, and I'd suggest you give it a rest before Daniel rips you a new one. Which would be fun to watch, but I'd hate to see him get into trouble for taking out trash like--"

  "Okay," I said, lifting my hands. "Enough. Rafe? I'm fine. I need to talk to Sam. I'll see you in class."

  As he left, Rafe shot Sam the kind of look you'd give a rabid dog. What had she done to him? Maybe she'd spooked him with her crazy bitch routine, only he didn't look spooked. He looked pissed.

  While I cleaned the board, Sam settled onto a desk and stomped her boots on the chair, dirt showering the seat. "What a freaking loser."

  "What's up, Sam?"

  "I saw you guys talking to a woman in the parking lot. Nicole said she's a reporter, asking questions about us. How we all got here, if any of us weren't born here. Nic says she's really interested in the ones that weren't. You, me, Rafe ..."

  "Probably hoping we'll be less attached to the town and more likely to spill secrets. Why? Do you have outstanding assault warrants somewhere?"

  "Ha-ha."

  Actually, it wouldn't surprise me at all if Sam had a juvie record. She was even quicker with her fists than Daniel and, unlike him, she didn't try to hold back.

  "So did she say anything to you?" Sam asked.

  "About you?"

  "About any of us. The ones who weren't born here."

  Which wasn't what she meant at all. I could tell by the way her gaze shifted to the left. I walked over and lowered my voice.

  "Are you in trouble, Sam?"

  "What?" She slid off the desk. "No. God, I can't even make an innocent comment without you jumping to conclusions. If you start telling people this chick is after me--"

  "You don't need to threaten me, Sam, because you know I don't spread stories. Chief Carling has already been told about this woman, so you won't need to worry about her much longer anyway."

  She looked alarmed. "Corey called his mom?"

  "Um, yeah. Standard procedure for anyone poking around, which you'd know if you didn't sit through every assembly with your iPod blasting." The bell sounded, and I moved to my desk by the window. "I'm sure they'll call another assembly today, and tell us how to handle it ... again."

  When Sam reached her desk at the back, she hesitated, then said, "About Rafe. I'm sure you're just being nice, but be careful."

  "Did he do something?"

  "Not yet, but he's trouble. Some girls go for that. You're not one of them. You're smart. Just ... stay smart, okay?"

  I nodded. Then the door banged open, and kids streamed in.

  NINE

  I WAS RIGHT ABOUT the assembly. It came during last period. Really, you'd think by now, the town could trust us older kids enough to just say, "Hey, there's one of those fake reporters in town. Here's her picture. You know the drill." But apparently, under the age of eighteen, our memories have short expiration periods.

  If there's anything worse than being confined to a small auditorium with everyone in the school, it's being confined there at the end of the day, when I'm desperate for fresh air and open skies. The crush of bodies, their stifling heat, the smell of them as deodorant began wearing off, even the sound of everyone breathing and coughing ...

  "Go," Daniel whispered at the halfway mark. "Anything new, I'll fill you in."

  As I passed Mrs. Morris, I motioned that I was going out to use the washroom. I'm sure she knew better, but she just smiled and waved me on. We aren't a school with a truancy problem. Let's be honest: Where would you go if you skipped class? No mall. No coffee shop. No hangout where the person running the place hasn't known you from childhood ... and knows you should be in class.

  The school is on the edge of town. Hell, most of the town is on the edge of town--you can't walk far in any direction without ending up in the forest. That's where I went.

  As I started along the path, I noticed a young, dark-haired woman. But not Mina Lee. This one was taller than me, with long black hair that curled over her faded denim jacket. Native or Latina. She was watching me and making no effort to hide it. Mina Lee's partner? If so, she needed lessons in subtlety even more than Mina did.

  When I headed her way, she started grinning and rocking on her toes, like she was fighting an urge to run toward me. She looked about nineteen, but her grin belonged on the face of a five-year-old. She was bouncing like a five-year-old, too.

  When I got a better look at her face--high cheekbones, sharp nose and chin, and slightly slanted amber eyes--I realized this had to be Rafe's older sister. I'd never seen her before. Few people in town had. She was supposed to be an artist. Shy and reclusive, Rafe had told everyone. One look at this girl, so eager to say hello she could barely stand still, and I knew that was a lie. Surprise, surprise.

  "Hello," I said.

  She launched herself at me so fast I didn't have time to get out of the way before she had her arms around my neck, hugging me like a long-lost sister.

  "Um, hi ..." I said, giving her a quick hug back, then stepping away.

  "I shouldn't do that, right? Sorry. I couldn't help it. I've been waiting so long." She resumed bouncing on her toes. "I'm so happy to meet you."

  "I'm ... happy to meet you, too. I'm Maya."

  "I know. I'm Annie." She bounced there, grinning and staring at me. Her eyes were wide and childlike, and as I looked in them, I had a pretty good idea why Rafe was keeping his sister a secret. She was ... I guess mentally challenged is the right term.

  "Rafe's right. You are pretty. I like your hair." She reached out and stroked a lock hanging over my shoulder. "I wish mine was straight. I used to straighten it, but it never really worked. I don't think I was doing it right. Rafe tried to help, but--" She giggled. "He's not a good hairdresser."

  I couldn't help smiling at that image.

  "So you live in the Skylark cottage?" I said. "That must get lonely."

  "Sometimes. But it's okay. There's so much forest to run in." She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun, her smile rapturous. "It's wonderful."

  "You like the forest?" I asked.

  She opened her eyes and they shone with a light that made her beautiful. "I love the forest."

  "Me, too."

  She laughed. "Of course you do, silly. It's in our blood."

  I guessed she meant Native blood. Like with Rafe, I couldn't really tell her heritage, but I supposed that answered my question. I was going to ask what tribe she was, when her eyes went wide.

  "Uh-oh. I'm in trouble now," she said.

  I followed her gaze to the back door. Rafe was bearing down on us, his expression set somewhere between annoyance and anxiety.

  "I'm going to get a stern talking to," Annie whispered, her tone saying she wasn't the least bit concerned by the prospect. When Rafe got within ten feet, she launched herself at him the same way she had with me. Instead of hugging him, she grabbed him in a headlock and ruffled his hair.

  "I didn't break the rules," she said as she danced away. "She came over to me, and she talked to me first."

  "She's right," I said.

  "Okay, just ..." He took her gently by the wrist. "We have to go, Annie. Say good-bye to Maya."

  "She doesn't need to--" I began.

  "Yes, she does."

  He led Annie off before I could argue. I glowered at his retreating back. Was he embarrassed by Annie? All the hair-styling in the world wouldn't make him a decent brother if he forced her to stay locked in a cabin all day. Maybe that was how he'd bee
n raised, but the next time he came sniffing around, we were definitely having a chat about this.

  As I stormed back toward the school, I heard running footsteps behind me.

  "Maya!" Rafe called. "Hold up a sec."

  Seems we were having that chat sooner than I expected.

  "I need to ask you a favor," he said.

  I nodded, too pissed off to open my mouth.

  "Don't tell anyone about Annie, okay? Please? You saw--Well, you saw she's got some problems, and I'd really appreciate it if--"

  "If I let you keep your mentally challenged sister a secret? Kept her from wrecking your street cred? God, you're a piece of work, Rafael Martinez. I thought Sam was being harsh on you this morning, but she wasn't nearly harsh enough."

  As I ranted, his face hardened. By the time I finished, it was like granite, his eyes cold chunks of amber.

  "Are you done?" he asked, voice as frosty as his eyes.

  "No, I haven't even begun. I was planning to talk to you later, offer to take Annie to lunch, let her meet people, but obviously that's not going to work, so I'll move straight to step two. Talk to my parents."

  I walked away before I could see his reaction.

  He called after me, "How old am I, Maya?"

  I turned. "How the hell should I know? Whatever you've told the school, I'm sure it's a lie anyway."

  "I'm sixteen, just like you. Or like you will be tomorrow, from what I heard. My birthday was last month."

  "Congratulations." I started walking again. "I'll send you a card next year, if you hang around that long, which I doubt."

  "You don't need to doubt it. I'll be leaving for sure if you tell anyone about Annie."

  I wheeled. "Are you threatening to take her--?"

  "Legally, I can't take her anywhere. I'm sixteen, Maya. Barely sixteen. She's nineteen. Who's the guardian here?"

  I paused, then said, softly, "Oh."

  "Yeah, oh. Annie and I never knew our dad. Our mom died last year when Annie was eighteen. Before the accident. So she got custody of me."

  "Accident? It's brain damage?"

  The look in Rafe's eyes, the grief ... It hurt just to see it, and he turned away fast, mumbling, "Yeah. It's brain damage. Point is that if anyone finds out, I'm off to a foster home and she's off to an institution. Which neither of us wants."

 

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