“What do you know about me?” Marcus demanded.
“Oh for Christ’s sake, would you two just stop it!” I cried. “She is not a CAMFer spy,” I said to Marcus, “and he is not a bad guy,” I said to Emma. “We’re all on the same side.”
“A CAMFer spy?” Emma scoffed. “Is that what he thinks I am? I’m not even a Republican. Besides, since when do political lobbyists have spies? That’s just ridiculous.”
“Actually, it’s not,” I said. “Mike Palmer is a CAMFer spy. He burned down my house. I saw him do it. And there’s at least one more in town.”
“Mike Palmer, the Fire Chief, burned down your house?” Emma asked in disbelief.
“Yes.”
“Why would he do that?” she asked.
“It’s complicated,” I said, looking up at the guys.
Yale looked at Emma, sizing her up.
Nose shrugged.
Marcus shook his head.
They didn’t want me to tell her anything.
“She might know something,” I argued. “She’s been in town. She might have seen something that could help us.”
“Fine,” Marcus said coldly, “then ask her.” But don’t tell her, his eyes said.
“I have a few questions of my own first, thank you very much,” Emma countered. “I know who he is,” she said, nodding at Marcus, “but who are these other guys?”
“They’re my friends, and that’s all you need to know,” Marcus answered.
He was so melodramatic.
“This is Nose and that’s Yale,” I said, gesturing at them and ignoring Marcus’s glare. “They’ve all been helping me since I ditched the hospital, and Nose is going to put the gun away, aren’t you Nose?”
Nose quickly tucked the gun in his belt, looking apologetic.
“Why don’t you two go check outside,” Marcus said to the other guys. “Do a perimeter sweep and make sure there’s no one else out there.”
“Sure,” Nose said, but as the two of them exited, I noticed him look back. I could read it on his face; he knew Marcus was sending them out to keep them from hearing what Emma said. There were cracks in the camaraderie of Piss Camp. I wasn’t the only one Marcus kept things from.
“Now,” Marcus was saying to Emma, “Tell us what’s been going on in town.”
“I might if you ask nicely,” Emma shot back.
“Emma,” I said, trying to keep the peace, “please, tell us what’s been going on since I left.”
“Well,” Emma said, addressing me and blatantly ignoring Marcus, “when you disappeared from the hospital, everyone pretty much freaked. Except your mom. The first thing she did was call my mom because she was sure you were at my place. Then, when you weren’t, she had a bit of a freak out herself. She told us the two of you had a big fight, and she thought you were hiding out somewhere just to blackmail her.”
“Me blackmail her? That’s a good one,” I said. “She was trying to blackmail me into letting the hospital do a bunch of tests on my hand.”
“Tests?” Marcus said. “You never told me that.”
“Yes I did.”
“No, you didn’t,” he insisted.
“Well, whatever. I didn’t mean not to tell you. In the hospital my hand sort of wacked-out in my mother’s general direction, so she convinced her doctor friend to order some tests.”
“What kind of tests?” Marcus asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, annoyed that he was so fixated on some unimportant detail. “Anyway, when I told them no way, they told me they didn’t even need my permission.”
“That’s terrible,” Emma said. “So, that’s why you left the hospital?”
“Exactly,” I said. “And I was planning to come to your place, but then Marcus showed up, and I went with him instead.”
“So, what happened after her mom called yours?” Marcus asked, sitting down on the floor instead of standing over us like some kind of Nazi interrogator.
“Well, the hospital and Emergency Services wanted to launch a full scale search,” Emma explained. “But your mom nixed that,” she said to me. “I mean, it was pretty obvious you hadn’t been kidnapped. There were no signs of a struggle, and you’d taken the bag of clothes Mom and I brought you. Your mom thought that once you cooled down, you’d come back. She convinced everyone it would just be best to wait you out.”
“How practical of her,” I mumbled.
“But I was pretty worried,” Emma’s said. “I knew even if you were pissed at your mom, you would have called me. But then you didn’t, and I knew some strange stuff had been happening with your hand. And with him,” she said, glancing at Marcus. “So, last night I snuck out and checked all your places—the cemetery, the old tree house in McKenzie Park, this place. Then today someone found a tent in the old lumber camp,” Emma went on, “and they said it must be yours. I was desperate to know you were all right, so I decided to check there tonight, but I figured I’d stop here and check again too, since it was on the way.”
“Oh, Em,” I said, hugging her. “I’m so sorry you were worried. I should have e-mailed you. But things got really crazy.”
“If her mom is so eager for her to come back,” Marcus said, “why didn’t she meet her tonight like they’d arranged?”
“What are you talking about?” Emma asked, looking confused. “Her mom has been at my house all evening. She’s starting to lose it a little, and my mom was worried, so she invited her over for dinner. She’s really worried about you, Liv, even though she’s trying not to show it.”
“What about the e-mail I sent her?” I asked.
“I don’t know anything about an e-mail,” Emma said.
“The CAMFers probably intercepted it completely,” Marcus said. “Anything else strange around town?” he asked Emma. “Any unusual rumors or gossip?”
“No,” Emma shook her head, but I could tell there was something. And so could Marcus.
“What is it?” I asked before Marcus could step in and start bullying her.
“It’s about Passion Wainwright,” Emma said, avoiding my eyes.
“What about her?” I asked, feeling suddenly cold.
“You knew she was in the hospital, right?” I nodded.
“Well,” Emma said, taking a deep breath. “There were rumors flying all over the place that she’d tried to commit suicide, that she had been your mom’s patient. And then her parents pulled her from the hospital yesterday and sent her away.”
“Sent her away where?” I asked.
“Some religious rehab place,” Emma said. “That’s what my mom heard.”
“Anything else?” Marcus pressed, as if the information about Passion didn’t even matter. As if it was nothing.
“There is one more thing,” Emma said, looking worriedly at me.
“Just tell me,” I said.
“Your mom is staying at Dr. Fineman’s house.”
“She moved in with him?” I blurted. “She said she was staying at her office.”
“She was, at first,” Emma explained, “but now she’s at his place.”
“Who’s Dr. Fineman?” Marcus asked, confused.
“Her new boyfriend,” I said with disgust. “Well, not exactly new, but I just found out about it. He’s the one she convinced to test my hand.”
“I see,” Marcus said, and it sounded like he really did. “What does this doctor look like?”
“I don’t know. He’s tall and old and has a big nose,” I said. “Why does that even matter?”
Marcus was suddenly standing. “We need to get out of here. Now. And she needs to go home,” he said, nodding at Emma.
“No way,” Emma said, getting up and crossing her arms over her chest, “I want to help. I’m not going anywhere until I’m sure Olivia is safe.”
“Well, then you’re going to be living in this shack for a very long time,” Marcus said angrily, “but we aren’t, because we’re not idiots.”
“Hey!” I cried. What had gotten into him? He�
��d been perfectly calm a minute ago, and now he was being a complete ass.
“What’s your problem?” Emma snapped, “She’s my friend. I just want to help.”
“The best way to help is to go home and stay out of this,” Marcus said, crossing to the door and calling Nose and Yale back in.
“Where is this shack?” he demanded of Yale as soon as he stepped in the door. “How far are we from town?”
“I don’t know,” Yale seemed to be trying to calculate. “Half a mile maybe.”
“Half a mile,” Marcus said, sounding grim.
“We’re in meter range,” Yale said, going pale. “Shit. I didn’t even think about it.”
“But we didn’t see anyone out there. No signs of CAMFers,” Nose said.
“They sent her to distract us,” Marcus said, moving toward Emma, “to keep us busy while they set up an ambush.”
“No one sent me,” Emma insisted, backing away from him. “No one even knows I’m here.”
“Stop it,” I told Marcus, grabbing his arm. “Stop freaking out. She’s my friend. I trust her with my life.”
“And with mine?” he asked, whirling on me, scaring me with the wildness in his eyes, “with Nose’s and Yale’s?”
“Yes,” I said, matching his fierceness.
We stood that way, me holding his arm, our eyes locked, oblivious to the others in the room, and I suddenly understood that he was afraid. This was Marcus afraid, and I didn’t like it, and I wanted to comfort him, but I didn’t know how.
“Okay,” Marcus exhaled, as if we’d just come to some agreement. “We need to get out of here, and she can’t come with us.”
“I know,” I said, dropping my hand from his arm, “but she could spy for us. Be our eyes and ears in town.”
“We don’t need a spy. We got what we came for. We’re leaving.”
“But what about the blades?”
“Forget the blades. The CAMFers know we’re here now. It’s too big of a risk.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about leaving Passion’s blades in the hands of the CAMFers, but I could see there was no point arguing. “So, we go back to camp,” I said, “and Emma goes home. But I need a way to keep in contact with her. I can’t just ditch my mom and everything without that. And Emma could tell us when the CAMFers leave. She could tell us if Mike Palmer goes with them or stays in town.”
“Hey, I have a phone,” Emma said, digging in her pocket. “I meant to give it to you at the hospital, but I forgot. My mom figured you lost yours in the fire, so she bought me a new one and wanted me to give you this,” she finished, pulling out her old phone and handing it to me.
“How convenient,” Marcus said, grabbing the phone out of my hands.
“I brought it in case I found her,” Emma said, as if speaking to a small child. “So we could communicate, even if she didn’t want to come back with me.”
“Check it,” Marcus said, handing it to Nose.
Nose removed the back of the phone, dug out the battery, did a close inspection of the interior and handed it back to Marcus. “No trace on it,” he said. “Should be safe enough once I route it through the scrambler.”
“Give that to me,” I said, snatching it back. “Thank you,” I said to Emma, tucking the phone into my jeans pocket.
“Here’s your flashlight,” Nose said, tossing it to Emma. “We found it outside.”
“We have to go,” Marcus said, ushering Nose and Yale toward the door.
I turned and hugged Emma. “I’ll be okay,” I said.
“Are you sure these guys are safe?” she whispered. “You can still come to my place. You don’t have to go with them.”
“I do though,” I said, pulling back. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep in touch.” We both had tears in our eyes.
“What do I tell your mom?” she asked.
“You don’t tell her anything,” Marcus interjected. “You don’t say anything about Olivia, or us, or the CAMFers. If you do, you put us all in danger. Do you get that?”
“Yeah, I get it,” Emma said, glaring at him.
Marcus pulled me away and propelled me out the door.
Nose took the lead through the woods with Marcus and me after him and Yale at the rear, as usual. Yale liked to take up the rear, and at any other time that realization would have made me smile. But not now. Not when I was leaving my best friend and my town and everything I knew behind me.
I looked back, past Marcus and Yale. I could still see the dark triangle of the ice house, a glint of light in the door.
Emma flicked her flashlight off, then on again.
I raised my ghost hand and waved.
“Let’s go,” Marcus said gruffly, pulling my hand down as he came alongside me, but he didn’t let go of it. He held it gently as we wound our way through the dark woods, and I didn’t pull away, even though I was still a little mad at him. Mad for not telling me about his PSS and for the way he’d treated Emma. But then his fingers began to stroke the inside of my wrist, and twine themselves between my ethereal ones, and I could feel my anger ebbing away, and his fear with it. And something else. I’d never felt my ghost hand so solidly as when he held it like that, as if it were a real hand made of flesh. Once, I looked down and thought I saw pale metacarpal bones and thin blue lines of veins forming in my ghost fingers.
But it must have been a trick of the moonlight.
24
BLOOD AND ROMANCE
By the time we reached the ridge beyond the lumber camp, my head hurt. My lungs hurt. My legs hurt. My arms hurt. My ears and my hair and my teeth hurt. The only thing that didn’t hurt was my ghost hand, which Marcus wasn’t holding anymore. The hand-holding thing had gone from comforting, to helpful, to him clutching my upper arm just to keep me from falling flat on my face.
I was so happy when I saw the open ground of our camp through the trees. I might even have been giddy enough to run forward and give Jason a hug.
But Jason wasn’t alone.
“Wait,” Marcus said, pulling me back into the shadows.
Nose had already crossed into the open, but he was drawing his gun. He knew something was wrong.
Jason was crouched in the clearing, bent over something large and lumpy. The something was making noises, strange noises, like an injured animal. For some reason the image of a Grizzly Bear in a trap flashed in my mind. There weren’t any bears in Illinois. And even if there had been, how would Jason trap one?
Marcus, Yale and I watched as Nose approached Jason. They greeted one another. Nose looked down at the lumpy thing. He asked Jason something as he tucked his gun away. Then he turned back to where the three of us were hiding and waved that the coast was clear.
As tired as I was, I was curious to see what Jason had caught while we were away.
Marcus took my ghost hand again, and we followed Yale into camp.
I could feel the tension in Marcus leaking into me, the angle of his arm making me think he wanted to lead me away. He was still afraid of something, even here in Piss Camp.
Together we walked up to the lump lying at Jason’s feet and I looked down.
It took a moment to realize what it was. Who it was. But finally it registered in my mind that the bloody, bruised, whimpering thing trussed up on the ground was Mike Palmer. Ultimately, the clothing gave it away, because his face was swollen beyond recognition.
“What happened to him?” I blurted, wanting to recoil into Marcus’s shoulder but finding myself unable to look away. Last time I’d seen Chief Palmer, right before the bullet had disappeared him, he’d been fine. Is this what it did? Transported people and chewed them to pieces in the process? Had I done this?
“Jason happened to him,” Marcus said flatly, wrapping his arm around me.
“He hasn’t told me anything yet,” Jason said matter-of-factly as he cracked his bloody knuckles, “but he will.”
“You—you did this?” I pulled away from Marcus, staring at Jason in horror. “Why? Why would you do this?”
>
“I didn’t kill him,” Jason said, as if that explained it. “Well, I nearly did. Almost shot him in the head when he popped out of thin air right in front of me. Lucky for him, that picture came through first and gave me some warning. Damn thing probably saved his life.”
I glanced up to see The Other Olivia leaning against one of the wheelers.
“Looks like you,” Jason said, gesturing at it. “So I figured it had something to do with you when he showed up.”
“How long has he been here?” Yale asked.
“Two and a half hours, maybe a little longer,” Jason said.
“So the transfer was instant,” Marcus noted.
“Somebody want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Jason asked.
“She touched them, and they disappeared,” Nose said, glancing at me.
“That was a couple of hours ago,” Yale said. “We didn’t have a clue where they’d gone until now.”
“What the fuck?” Jason said, staring at me, his expression a mixture of fear and awe. “Is that what you were trying to do to me before?” he demanded, stepping over Mike Palmer and coming at me. “Did you try to disappear me?”
“Back off!” Marcus said, stepping between us. “She didn’t even know she could do this until tonight. I told you, what happened before was an accident.”
On the ground, Mike Palmer groaned loudly.
“Shut up, pig!” Jason yelled, turning and kicking him in the ribs.
“Stop it!” I cried, pushing my way around Marcus and shoving Jason as hard as I could.
“I told you, bitch,—don’t ever touch me!” Jason yelled, charging me and grabbing a fistful of my hair.
I wanted to sink my hand into him. I wanted to yank out everything inside of him and make it all disappear.
But before I could, Marcus was on him, clamping Jason in a headlock, pulling him off me, wrenching Jason’s hand away with a fistful of my hair in it. I ignored the pain, the stream of vulgarity raining down on me from Jason’s mouth, the scuffle going on behind me as Nose and Yale joined the effort to restrain him.
I knelt in the mud next to the bloody blob that was Mike Palmer. It hadn’t rained for days. It wasn’t mud; it was blood, soaked into the dust, making it black and wet and sticky.
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