by Zach Hines
Glen looked over at Julian and blinked.
“You kill it?”
“No!” Julian exclaimed.
“Then what’s your malfunction right now?” Glen asked.
Julian looked at him, puzzled.
“He’s just rattled,” Cody said. “We were followed. But Mr. Julian here is an ace driver. We lost them in the orchard.”
Glen shook his head. “You’re being followed, and now retro night is shut down, too. They’re circling closer and closer.”
“Who is circling?” Julian interjected.
Glen looked to Cody, obviously wondering if she was going to cut this stranger in.
“Who?” Julian said again, more demanding.
“The nurses,” Cody said finally. “They don’t like us. They don’t like that the Friends are helping out the retrogrades. They don’t like that I’m studying their cats. But really, what they don’t like the most is that we’re telling people that the Lake system is changing. Too bad.”
Glen gave Cody a look as if to say, Are you sure we should be talking to this kid?
Cody turned back to Julian.
“Listen to me, Mr. Julian. I’m totally serious when I’m saying this.”
“Okay,” Julian said, worried.
“There are reports—”
“Rumors,” Glen interrupted.
“—from highly credible sources,” Cody barreled on, “that not everyone is getting all nine. Sometimes, people aren’t coming back to life.”
“What?” Julian said, incredulous. The very idea was unthinkable.
“It’s rare, but the retros tell me they’ve seen it. People are permadying when they were on Seven, or Six, or even Five.”
Julian closed his eyes. People were voluntarily extinguishing their lives. If they didn’t know it could be their last, then—
Suddenly, this sounded a lot like one of those conspiracies passed around the darker corners of DeadLinks.
“Why are you bringing me into this?” he asked, skeptical.
“Seems like the cats chose you. Not me. And I trust the cats.”
All right.
That was enough for one evening.
Everything inside Julian’s being was telling him, Stay away stay away stay away stay away . . .
Julian stood. “I have to go home.”
“Mr. Julian,” Cody said, peering at him from under her curls. “Of course, you can go home now. Go to bed. Go to school. Burn your Two. Then your Three, and so on. But you’re not going to escape the truth. If you come back to life at all . . .”
Julian eyed her for a long moment.
Finally, Glen laughed, breaking the silence. Julian headed for the door.
“You’ll be back,” Cody said. “Once we find out what this cat was trying to tell you.”
Julian didn’t take the bait. He walked out of the house, past the numberless kids who lived there, out to his car. He drove home—slowly, carefully, checking his rearview, but there were no pursuers this time.
He got home just before midnight. For some reason, he had to check on Rocky. He had to make sure his little brother was home, safe in his bed.
He was. Sleeping. A One.
A One, Julian knew, who would soon enough have to enroll in high school.
Who would, soon enough, have to burn.
Julian returned to his room and sat on the edge of his bed, but he couldn’t lie down. His mind raced.
Cody was right about one thing.
He did go home.
But he couldn’t escape.
Chapter 20
BY ABOUT SEVEN THIRTY THAT OCTOBER MORNING, IT WAS clear that this was the first truly cold day of the year. Not just chilly or brisk. But cold. Bone cold.
The air was still and windless. Just walking through it stung Julian’s skin, like he was wading through a pool of jellyfish. He had to pull the collar on his white blazer tight against his neck as he crossed the yard to the orchestra room.
The room was warm inside, but Julian couldn’t shake the cold, shifting in his seat as Nicholas presided over the Burners, a lord before his court. He crowed about all the new members who had joined, singling out Julian’s great example as inspiration.
“Twenty new pledges since your big jump,” he said, grinning.
Julian just slunk lower into his seat.
Nicholas then presented plans for an elaborate Halloween party he was setting up for the entire senior class. Called The Drop Dead Drop, it would take place in an abandoned carnival in the Row on Halloween night, utilizing a derelict old roller coaster for the titular deadly drop. The party would, according to Nicholas, easily best the infamous Georgie Vander’s score in one fell swoop. It was “the death blow” that he had been longing for.
But Julian couldn’t keep his focus. Anxiety flowed through him like a drug. Cody had gotten to him last night. Her theories had wormed their way into his brain, and he had stayed up all night becoming obsessed with her worldview, which, he realized, she had been laying out for him in bits and pieces all along, like luring some little mammal into a trap.
If Julian believed her, then he would need to contend with a new reality: there was a chance that he wouldn’t be coming back on his next burn. How big a chance? He had no idea. Of course, Cody could be delusional. But maybe she wasn’t. Julian did watch his mother degrade and her sanity crumble, a victim of the Lake. The worst thing you could think of? It was definitely possible.
Either way, if Julian was going to risk it, he would be risking it for what his family really needed—information about his mother.
He had to pull Nicholas aside. He hung back after the meeting ended. Once everyone left the orchestra room, he approached the conductor’s podium.
“Jules, my friend, I have a lot on my plate here,” Nicholas said, leafing through a stack of documents. “Clayton’s burn tonight at the football game had been scheduled for weeks, and now it’s all going tits up. Our dear friend is absent today, and he hasn’t been answering his phone or reading our texts. Seems he has cold feet all of a sudden. Add to that the fact that we need to find a generator now for The Drop Dead Drop because of course the three that are already at the fairgrounds are completely inoperable,” he continued without pausing for breath. “So unless this is about how to get a generator, or you know where Clayton is presently, I just don’t have time.” Nicholas slid the documents into his bag, and looked up at Julian.
“Is this about a generator?”
“No,” Julian said. “But—”
“Well, then, I must get to class or Denton is going to have my balls on top of everything. My god, I tell you that killing a whole class of kids is a whole lot of work! I should be getting extra credit for this.”
Nicholas buckled up his bag and swiftly made his way to the exit. Just like that, he was out the door, and Julian was left standing alone in the empty orchestra room, no closer to any answers.
Nicholas didn’t show up at the Burners’ table during lunch. Franklin was missing, too. Constance explained to Julian that the two of them were in crisis mode, trying to fix the burn at tonight’s football game.
“Why don’t they just cancel it?” Julian asked.
Constance shook her head as if she were fielding a supremely basic question. “It seems you don’t understand this burn tonight. Do you?”
“No,” Julian said.
“Well, not everyone is privy,” she said, smiling.
“Right,” Julian said flatly.
Nevertheless, Constance continued, if for no other reason than to revel in withholding information from him.
“I can’t tell you what it is exactly,” she said. “But I will tell you there was a fair amount of preparation involved. At this point, it’s better to just go through with this now, even without Clayton. I guess Nicholas is scrounging up a replacement.”
“If you see Nicholas, tell him I’m looking for him,” Julian said.
Constance tightened her lips into a smile. “Sure thing, cutie,” she said, and gav
e him a little wink. Julian regarded Constance for a moment. A wink from the hottest girl in school?
Some kind of game. It had to be.
He spent the rest of his lunch period in the library. When the bell rang for the start of fifth, he texted Nicholas, “We need to talk. Meet after school?”
Nicholas never responded.
Julian sat through his afternoon classes beside himself, his leg involuntarily bouncing in his seat. He traced the lines on his notebook as the teachers droned on about algebra or the hunger crisis spreading across Eastern Europe.
He could not stop obsessing about what they might uncover on his mother. For some reason, he kept imagining this discovery appearing to him like the answer key in the back of a textbook, a thought that made him feel stupid and foolish. What if there was nothing to find? No answer? No special truth out there about how she had vanished? What if there was just a single, simple fact? She became addicted to death until all of her lives were gone. What if that was just . . . it?
After the last bell rang, Julian planted himself right outside the big oak doors at the exit of the academic building, waiting for Nicholas. The sky above the yard was a bright blue, so vivid it almost shimmered.
Finally, he found him, striding swiftly out the doors, deep in conversation with Franklin. Julian steeled himself and stepped forward. “Nicholas, we have to talk,” Julian said.
Nicholas brushed past him. “I’m afraid I’m very busy,” he replied. “We are T minus four hours from the game tonight, and Clayton is completely AWOL.”
Julian shook his head and stepped in front of Nicholas as he tried to move around him. “I’m sorry, but this is important.”
Nicholas studied Julian’s eyes, then turned to Franklin. He nodded to the bigger boy. “I’ll catch up,” he said to Franklin, then turned back to Julian. “Jules. My friend. I apologize for being so busy, but I am here for you now. So, what the hell is so damn urgent?”
“It’s . . .” Julian looked away as he gathered his thoughts. “You promised you would get information on my mother,” he said.
Nicholas’s eyebrows creased in annoyance. “I’m working on it, as I have said to you before. Now, is this why you pulled me aside while I’m extremely busy?”
“Nicholas,” Julian said. “Don’t delay this anymore. I need this now. This is what I’m saying to you.”
Julian tried his best to glare at him, and judging by Nicholas’s expression, it seemed to be working. The smirk dropped from his face, and he ran his tongue over his teeth. He looked back at Julian with a stony silence.
Julian continued, “You took me in and you gave me this chance and you spent all this time with me. And I appreciate that,” Julian said. “So I have to be honest with you . . .”
Here comes that skipped heartbeat. One . . . two . . . now.
“I joined the Burners because I really have to burn two lives,” he said. “It’s not about status or anything like that. The fact is that I need to be on Three for my dad to get a tax refund to pay off our house. That’s the truth of it. I have to burn one more life, and then that’s it. After that, I’m done burning.”
Nicholas narrowed his gaze at Julian. His eyes flicked back and forth as he listened. Listened and processed.
“And I could just go to an ex clinic, you know,” Julian continued. “Just go in and get it over with and get the refund and move on with my life. But I joined the Burners because you said we could find out what happened. That’s why I’m here.”
Nicholas flattened his lips into a stern, grim line. “Julian, I’m . . . shocked. I’m utterly shocked to hear this.” Nicholas glowered and shook his head, pissed.
Julian’s veins were flooded with cold. His stomach lurched.
Did he just blow it?
“So not only am I working my ass off,” Nicholas said in a kind of obviously mock wonder. “Putting in all this time and effort and social capital to hunt down the Lake office files on your mother, but you’re also trying to get money from the state on top of it all? How convenient, really.”
Nicholas frowned deeply, as if he had been personally, grievously injured.
“You act like I’m supposed to feel sorry for you, but it seems like you have it all figured out. Everyone is actually working for you. Why should I be helping you at all?”
“No,” Julian said, feeling it all slip away from him. “No, no, no. Nicholas, that’s not what this is about. I’m just—I’m trying to be honest with you.”
Still shaking his head, Nicholas raised a hand to silence Julian. “You’re gaming me,” he said. “It was never about the Burners, was it? It was all about Julian all along.”
“Well, n-no,” Julian stammered. “I don’t mean to disrespect the Burners. You’ve opened my eyes. I’m glad I joined.”
As Julian stammered, Nicholas just stood there, watching him with those cold, calculating eyes.
“Are you glad you joined the Burners, Julian? Really?”
“Really,” Julian said.
Nicholas shook his head. “All I have to go on is your word.”
“I know, but I’m good for my word,” Julian replied. “Trust me.”
Nicholas rubbed his chin for a long moment as he thought. Finally, he said, “Well, the fact is that indeed, I do have some news about your mother.”
Julian’s heart raced. “Really? What is it?”
“My sources found something. But here’s the thing. I don’t totally understand its significance, so I wasn’t sure if I was ready to present it to you.”
“They found something? Is it like her employee records or something? What is it?”
“Composure, please,” Nicholas said quickly. “I would have liked to find some context to put it in. A bigger picture. I promised you, after all, that we would get to the bottom of this. Because maybe this is just a clue, and not the whole story.”
“Just tell me!”
“Listen, Julian,” he said, raising his hand.
That “listen” . . .
“We have a little problem here, you and I. I went to all these lengths to obtain this information, but you are at this moment a bit of a loose cannon. I’m not sure what your game is. Are you exposing our club to some sort of risk I have yet to calculate? This is about trust, Julian. I need to trust you.”
Nicholas stepped back.
“I like you, my friend. I really do. However, what you just told me now . . . about going to an ex clinic?” His face contorted like the words were rancid in his mouth. “That’s a violation of trust.”
Julian could feel any hope of discovering the slightest thing about his mother slipping away. He swallowed. “I’m sorry,” he said.
Nicholas raised his hand, silencing Julian.
“Don’t apologize. I want to tell you what I know. But I need to know that you really are with us.”
Julian frowned as he realized what was happening—Nicholas was dangling everything he promised before Julian’s eyes, and then denying it to him. A deep, itching, burning, painful anger bloomed in his chest. He looked at his hands. His nails were beginning to dig into his palms. He made a conscious effort to release them. They left little white divots in his flesh.
Julian looked up from his hands. “So, what can I do?” he asked icily.
Nicholas tried to straighten his grin into a sober expression, but he could not tame the curls of it at the edge of his lips.
He was plainly savoring this.
“Like I mentioned earlier . . . poor Clayton has gone AWOL.” He made a pitiful frown and shook his head gently. “So, if you take his place tonight and burn for us, with no hesitation, no prep . . . then I will trust you. I will believe you are truly ready to dedicate yourself to us.”
Julian looked at Nicholas with amazed revulsion. How did this happen? How did Nicholas maneuver him into killing himself right now? He was a bold-faced demon. A devilish imp parading as an angel in a crisp white jacket.
“If you do this burn for me now,” Nicholas continued, �
�I would be able to stand up to any previous Gold Star and say, ‘This kid is a Burner through and through, and he has earned the right to our trust.’”
Julian ran his hands through his hair, the anger in his chest now mixed with a ballooning sense of doom. “Is this a promise?”
Nicholas clasped his hands together in front of him like a priest. “Absolutely,” he said. “I only hope the information I have is what you’ve been hoping for.”
Julian exhaled into the sky, and his breath came out as a small puffy cloud that quickly evaporated into the freezing air.
There was no choice here. After all, he still had to burn his Two, one way or the other. . . .
He craned his head back down to Nicholas.
“Tonight?” he asked.
“Tonight,” Nicholas said.
Chapter 21
IN HIS THREE YEARS AT LAKESHORE ACADEMY, JULIAN HAD never been to a football game. Like burning, football was something he never had the slightest interest in, even though everyone around him was obsessed with it.
And so, when he found himself that night in the stadium in the center of it all, he couldn’t help but stand dumbfounded and gawking at the amount of sheer noise and nonsense that was pulled into the black hole of a Friday night.
He was with Nicholas under the scoreboard behind the Lakeshore end zone. Running back and forth in front of them was the team mascot, the Lakeshore Warrior. He wore a Trojan helmet and his face was painted a bright, almost clownish white. Completing the ensemble was a navy cape that trailed behind him like the train of a wedding dress. He carried the Lakeshore flag over his shoulder. The boy in the costume was Logan, a lanky Burner on Life Four who Julian knew as the kid who sat in the front row of Burner meetings supplying the occasional sarcastic comment.
The stands on both sides of the field were packed. The Lakeshore side was full of the school colors—navy and white—while the opposing stands were decked out in orange for the rival team . . . Poplar Heights Public High, Julian realized.
Poplar . . .
Well. At least Cody wouldn’t be here to see this.
The refs whistled for halftime and the school band fired up. They pounded out a rhythm that reverberated in Julian’s chest, drowning out his thoughts. As the teams left the field for the locker room, the Warrior approached Nicholas and Julian, taking off his helmet.