Eye of the Sh*t Storm

by Jackson Ford

  Back in the storage unit, before I found Leo… I found a body.

  A man wearing exactly what Leo described.

  No. No way. You’re imagining it.

  But I’m not. I wish I was, I wish to God I was, but…

  Leo’s dad left him in the storage unit. Hid him. Told him he was going to get help, that he’d be back soon. He told him to use his ability if he had to – if anybody came, and tried to take him. What if…?

  What if Leo got scared? What if he was alone and worried and he got scared and used his ability—?

  Before his dad had left the building.

  My eyes meet Nic’s. His forehead creases with concern. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Leo looks between us, puzzled.

  “I just…” I lift a hand to my face, let it drop. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  “Um, OK. What—?”

  I push past them, moving into a jog, heading for Annie. I don’t know what I’m going to do – I have to tell someone, but it can’t be Nic. Not right now, not when Leo is right there.

  Annie has come to a stop, her back to me. She’s staring down at a piece of trash – a piece of furniture or something, I don’t know. I skid to a halt next to her. “Annie – we’ve got a big fucking problem.”

  She doesn’t respond.

  “Leo’s dad, he… I think he might be—”

  “That’s Reggie’s chair,” Annie says. Her voice is barely a whisper.

  “I – what?”

  Annie points to the piece of furniture. Except, it’s not a piece of furniture. It’s a motorised wheelchair, turned on its side.

  My brain short-circuits, Leo’s dad temporarily forgotten. “What? No. It’s just a chair. Why would it be Reggie’s?”

  “It’s hers.” That same dead tone. “I recognise it. It even has her little bag.” She points to the back of the chair, where a small, multicoloured cloth bag hangs from a strap.

  “What’s going on?” Nic says. He and Leo have come up behind us.

  I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know how our little straight shot down the river went so bad so quickly. But I’m putting a stop to it, right now, because this? This is some bullshit.

  “The chair can’t be Reggie’s.” I say firmly. “There’s no way. How would she even have gotten down here?”

  “Woah, wait, what?” Nic says. “What does Reggie have to do with this?”

  “Who’s Reggie?” says Leo.

  “Annie, think. I know it looks like her chair, but…”

  Annie isn’t listening. She bends down, plucks at something embedded in the chair’s mechanism. Something I hadn’t noticed before – a slip of paper. She unfolds it, her hands hardly shaking it all.

  The writing on the paper is in block capitals. As heavy and direct as a shotgun blast.

  HOLLYDALE PARK. WEST OF THE BASKETBALL COURTS.

  MIDNIGHT.

  BRING THE BOY.

  FORTY-THREE

  Teagan

  I hate the phrase I can’t even.

  Every time somebody says it, I want to yell at them: Can’t even what? Finish the sentence, you lazy fuckwad! Usually I couldn’t care less about other peoples’ little sayings and vocal tics. But for whatever reason, that one is my kryptonite. If you say it around me, I may express a desire to punch you in the dick.

  Well, I get it now. Standing over a wheelchair that I’m really starting to believe belongs to Reggie, in the middle of a storm drain, while we’re trying to track down a man who I just found out was accidentally killed by his own son…

  I can’t even. I have lost the ability to even.

  “Let me get this straight.” Nic has his hands on his hips. “The Zigzag Man took your boss?”

  “Who else could it be?” Annie’s still talking like she’s been tranquilised.

  “The Legends? Or—?”

  “They wouldn’t know about Reggie,” I say.

  “They could have found out!”

  “Why is this so hard for you?” Annie says. “The dude tried to hit us twice. When that didn’t work, he found another way.”

  “It’s him,” Leo says. He scuffs the concrete with his shoe, not looking at us.

  I’ll have to tell him about his dad, sooner or later – and do I feel guilty about how relieved I am that it’s not the most pressing issue right now? You bet your sweet ass I do.

  “I mean…” Nic falters. “OK, let’s say that’s right. Somehow, he got your girl Reggie, and somehow got her chair down here. How’d he know we’d even see it?”

  “Good point,” I murmur. Not that it’s one I have an answer for.

  “And why not just hold her hostage here?” Nic goes on. “Why make us go all the way back to… what was it, Hollydale Park?”

  Annie makes a helpless, disgusted sound. “He wants to do it somewhere quiet, not where anybody can walk by.”

  “But the river is quiet,” Nic says. “I mean we’ve seen a few other people, but mostly it’s just been us, right?”

  “He wouldn’t know that. And even if he does, why take the chance? And he must have figured out we’d come this way.”

  I grind the heel of my hand into my forehead. The Zigzag Man’s been trying to get ahead of us this entire time, striking at the worst possible moments. Looks like he finally did it.

  Who the fuck is he? What do these people want?

  Annie looks at her watch. “Just past eleven now. Hollydale Park’s back past the camp, east of the river. We can make it if we hustle.”

  “Wait, I’m sorry.” I say. “Are you seriously suggesting we go back the way we came?”

  “Are you seriously suggesting we don’t?” Annie stares at me in disbelief.

  “I just think—”

  “He’s got Reggie. If you don’t think he’ll kill her, you’re an idiot.”

  “We should just think about it, is all,” I say, feeling more lame by the second.

  Annie’s right, of course. We have to go back, because there is no way I’m letting Reggie get hurt. But if we do…

  It means handing over Leo.

  Can we do that to him? Betray a four-year-old boy, for one of our own? Hand him back to the Zigzag Man, to the one person in the world that scares him the most?

  How would that be any better than letting him fall into Tanner’s clutches?

  I know what Reggie would say. I can even hear her words, that honeyed Southern accent. Hell no, darling. Don’t you worry about me. You keep going. Get that boy somewhere safe.

  And I have no idea how to tell Annie that. Not a clue.

  “If we hand Leo over,” Nic says, eyes never leaving Annie, “then a lot of people are going to get hurt.”

  “Says you.”

  “Says him.” He points to Leo, who actually flinches.

  “I’m not trying to hear that. Don’t even talk to me about that.”

  “Annie.” You can hear the patience wearing down in Nic’s voice – the razor thin edge of it. “You might be willing to risk thousands of people, but I don’t know if I am.”

  “Oh, OK. Sorry, Reggie, we bailed because we maybe thought a kid with abilities was—”

  “There’s no maybe. We know exactly what’ll happen if we don’t keep him safe.”

  “We don’t know shit!”

  He gets in her face. “Well then tell me, Annie. Go on. We go save Reggie, we hand Leo over, then what? You think nothing happens? What are you gonna say to Reggie when Leo…?” He swallows. “When they make him overdrive a power plant? Or put a million volts through the Pacific Ocean?”

  I don’t even know if that’s possible. Then again, until today, I didn’t think any of this was possible. I badly want to tell Nic that this isn’t the place for logic, and reason, and cold-minded arguments. Problem is, the alternative isn’t much better.

  As if sensing my thoughts, Nic looks over at me – a look I almost flinch away from. “Teags, back me up.”

  I shake my head, my mouth open, the words stuck in my throat.

>   Now Annie is staring at me too. “You cannot seriously be considering this.”

  “I—”

  Annie grabs me by both shoulders, makes me look her in the eyes.

  “It’s Reggie,” she says through gritted teeth. “The woman who’s always had your back. Since China Shop started, she’s been the wall between you and Tanner. And you just wanna, what, throw her to the fucking wolves?”

  “No! Annie, I never said that—”

  “Then why aren’t you telling your boyfriend –” she jabs a finger at Nic “– to get the hell on?”

  “Hey, that’s enough,” Nic says.

  Annie ignores him, letting go of my shoulders “I don’t believe you, Teagan. I really don’t. After all this, you just roll over?”

  “He’s four years old!” I still don’t have a clue what to do, but I feel like someone should point this out.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Annie’s hands are balled in tight, bloodless fists. Abruptly, she jabs a finger at Leo, who flinches. “He’s just like that Matthew kid, the one who killed—” She takes a deep breath, looks away. “I can’t believe you’re protecting him, still, after everything that’s happened.”

  “He’s not Matthew,” I shout back. “Jesus, Annie, think for a second. Matthew was a… a… a psychopath. Leo’s just… he’s a normal kid.”

  “He’s from the same place.”

  “He doesn’t want to hurt anybody!”

  “Oh yeah? What about at Dodger Stadium? Nic told me all about that shit.”

  Nic gives me a helpless shrug.

  Annie isn’t done: “He’s dangerous. I’m done protecting him. Not when Reggie might get hurt.”

  I don’t believe this. I thought Annie had finally come around – that she’d stopped hating Leo for what he is. For the past couple of hours, she’d actually been treating him like a real person. Turns out, that was a thin scab over a very deep wound.

  “It’s like Nic said. If we hand him over, they’ll make him hurt a lot more people than Reggie.” The words spill out of me, like they were there all along. “Annie, I know what happened with Paul was hard—”

  “Don’t you say his name.” Spat through gritted teeth.

  “Why not? He was my friend too. I hated what happened to him, but Leo didn’t do it. None of this is his fault, and the way you talk to him, it’s not fair. You can’t hate him like that. He’s not Matthew.”

  “Both of you,” Nic steps between us. “Enough. Let’s just talk this out. If—”

  “I’ll go,” Leo says.

  He has to say it again, louder this time, before we turn to look at him.

  “Leo,” I say, disbelieving. “No.”

  “It’s OK.” He smiles. The damn kid actually smiles. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  “But…” I walk over, crouch down so I’m at his level. “The Zigzag Man wants you to hurt people.”

  A hardness comes into his expression then. One I haven’t seen before. His lower lip juts out slightly, defiant.

  “I won’t let him,” he says. “Even if he tries to make me. I won’t do it.

  “Leo,” Nic says. “Buddy… we can’t ask you to do this. It’s too much.”

  “I wanna help,” he says simply.

  Annie is nodding to herself, arms crossed tight over her chest. She at least has the good grace to stay silent.

  “Are you sure?” Nic says to Leo, crouching down next to me. “Because nobody here is going to make you do it.”

  “I’m sure.”

  Nic looks like he wants to throw up. “Please,” he says. “Please, Leo. Don’t do this.”

  Leo takes a tentative step forward, then another. Then he wraps his arms around Nic’s shoulders.

  I look away. Eyes closed. I want to hug Leo, and hit him, and scream at him, and then scream at Annie.

  Most of all? Most of all, I want to find the man who took Reggie. That’s the one bright spot here. After all this is done, maybe, just maybe, I’ll get my shot at him. Make him regret the day he fucked with us.

  Leo lets go of Nic. “Come on,” he says, a little too brightly, turning and heading back the way we came.

  Nic and I exchange a look. Are we really doing this?

  Behind him, the LA River stretches away into the darkness. A flat, beaten-up slab of concrete. An easy walk. And no more than a few miles away, less than an hour…

  We were so goddamn close.

  “Come on,” I say to Nic and Annie, turning to go. Then, quietly, making sure Leo is far enough ahead of us: “Let’s go punch this dude in the dick.”

  FORTY-FOUR

  Teagan

  This must be what it feels like to almost-but-not-quite reach the summit of Mount Everest. The failing isn’t even the worst part. It’s the descent. Going aaaaaall the way back down, covering the same ground, knowing you didn’t make it.

  Back we go, back up the river. Back towards the camp, towards Pop and the Legends, towards Africa, if he’s still out there.

  If? Who am I kidding? He’s probably tracking us down right now, and chances are he’ll show up at exactly the worst time.

  Every so often, Nic will cast a dark look in Annie’s direction. She ignores him, focusing on the way ahead. Leo is walking with us, on Nic’s left. Our footsteps on the concrete are dull, like they’re coming from inside a soundproofed room.

  Eventually, the silence gets to me. “Maybe we could have our cake and eat it,” I say, which is a poor choice of words, because now I want cake.

  “What do you mean?” Nic says.

  “Well, we’ve got some time, right?” It’s around eleven-fifteen, a little under an hour from the deadline. The rain has picked up now, plastering my hair to my forehead. I have to keep wiping drops out of my eyes. “Maybe there’s a way to get Reggie back without losing Leo.” I cast a guilty look at him, and he just shrugs.

  “Maybe.” Nic sounds unsure.

  “I mean, it’s not like this Zigzag guy is bulletproof.” I say.

  “You got a gun hidden somewhere we don’t know about?” Annie says.

  “I don’t mean literally bulletproof. I’m not saying shoot him. But it seems like it’s tough for him to hit more than two people at once, so maybe we could… I don’t know, ambush him somehow…”

  Nic gives me a dubious look.

  “Besides,” I continue. “He’s not all there – did you hear what he was saying? All that my house is a lie and the walls go on for ever and blah-blah?” I try to say it like it’s no biggie, but truth be told, even repeating the words sends a horrid little shiver up my spine.

  “If he took Reggie, and set all this up,” Nic says, “then he’s obviously not a complete fruitcake. Plus, he knows how many of us there are. If we don’t all show at the same time, he’ll figure out something’s up. It’s not worth the risk.”

  “We… we wait until we’ve made the exchange, till we’ve got Reggie back. Then we can hit him. He can’t take all of us at the same time.”

  “Good plan,” Annie mutters.

  A group of people – homeless folk from the camp, it looks like – move past us on the opposite side of the river. They’re arguing about something, angry voices reaching us.

  A brainwave. “Hey.” I snap a finger at Leo. “You’ve still got some juice, right? You didn’t blow it all on that pigeon?”

  “Um,” he says. “I think so.”

  “Perfect!” I spread my hands. “So we zap him the second we see him. Boom. We all go home.”

  Nic shakes his head. “Nice idea, but I’m guessing he’ll take that into account. He obviously knows what Leo can do.”

  “Stop bursting my balloon, man. Take it into account how?”

  “He’ll probably keep hold of Reggie until they make the exchange.” Annie’s voice is as dead as our footsteps. “He’ll dose Leo with something, then let Reggie go.”

  “If he does it at all,” Nic mutters.

  Annie glares at him. “Got something you wanna say, vato?”

>   “Chill, both of you,” I tell them. Last thing we need is to have some bystander come find out if we’re OK. And there are bystanders now – groups of people pushing their belongings in shopping carts, loners toting backpacks. One of them, a crusty old guy with a unibrow, glances in my direction, gives me a sour look. I have to resist flipping him the bird.

  “Why are there so many people?” Leo asks suddenly

  “There aren’t that many…” I trail off. He’s right. It’s not just a few small groups here and there. The bend of the river is up ahead, curving back around to the west, and in the space between the bend and where we are, there must be a hundred people. There’s a little more ambient light here than there was further up the river, so they’re not difficult to spot. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I genuinely didn’t notice.

  There’s the roar of a motorcycle engine, making me jump. The Legends – they found us.

  But it’s not them. On the other side of the rushing water, a beat-up old Triumph zooms past. The bike has a sidecar, and the person in it – a bearded man holding a baseball cap down on his head – is yelling something at us. Impossible to hear over the roar of the engine. The man’s windbreaker has come loose, flapping out the back of the sidecar like a superhero cape.

  “OK, hold up.” Annie strides over to the nearest group on our side, a cluster of teenagers – two girls, three boys, all of whom look worried. “What’s going on?” Annie points upriver. “Why’s everybody heading out?”

  I don’t quite hear the response, which comes from one of the older boys, a kid with a dirty Clippers hoodie about ten sizes too big for him.

  Annie snaps her head in the direction of the homeless camp. “For real?” she says.

  “The hell is happening?” Nic asks me. All I can do is shrug.

  Annie jogs back to us. “We got a problem.”

  “Yeah, I figured.” I nod to the kids. “What’s up?”

  “Flash flood.”

  “What?” Nic says.

  “What do you mean, a flash flood?” I blink at her. “From where?”

  It’s dumb question. I know where.

  A certain collapsed bridge further upriver. A mess of concrete slabs and burned metal. A nice little barricade for the storm water to pile up behind.