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Negative Film (Star Child: Places of Power Book 2)

Page 12

by Leonard Petracci


  I hesitated, turning back to the camera on the table, then to Lucio, cracking my knuckles. Fifteen hundred dollars was more than I had ever seen, let alone held. I knew we had at least twice that in our reserves from selling construction materials, but that money was supposed to last us months. And feeding six mouths made it disappear at a far faster rate than I would ever guess. But if Lucio was right, and we could resell it after the plan, then there were no negatives.

  “Fine,” I said, thinking we could bounce the idea off the rest of the group before we returned to the subway and get a second opinion.

  “Perfect!” exclaimed Lucio, then walked back to the store owner, handing him a thick envelope he had hidden inside his shirt, the corners wet with sweat. “You’ll find all you need in there. Wonderful doing business with you, sir!”

  Then he zipped up the camera bag before I could object, and led me out of the shop, picking up a Holt’s Film Equipment card on the way out the door.

  “You stole that from us?” I hissed as we reached the street and Lucio whistled.

  “Stole? Stole? I borrowed, SC, and you said yes! You gave me your explicit permission!”

  “Then you tricked me! I never would have said yes if I knew.” I struggled to keep up with him as he held the case close to his chest, beelining back towards the warehouse.

  “SC, you heard him. This camera is worth fifteen grand, and we got it for a tenth of that! This was the deal of the century!”

  “Right, if it was working. But it’s not; it’s broken!”

  “Broken?” Lucio asked, his voice innocent as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, quickening his pace and glancing over his shoulder to the shop receding in the distance. “Who said it was broken?”

  Chapter 36

  “Lucio, don’t tell me that you pulled a fast one back there,” I said, my heart rate quickening.

  “Fine, I won’t tell you. Is that better?” he answered, still grinning.

  “No,” I grumbled, staring at the case he clutched. “We should return it.”

  “And get arrested? Put the plan in peril? Look, if it bothers you, SC, we’ll return it when we’re done. Think of it like borrowing. Besides, they’ll never catch us— we’ll be back home, and they’ll be searching here, hundreds of miles away. Couldn’t be safer.”

  “It’s not right; that store owner didn’t do anything to us.”

  “And the camera would have collected dust on the top shelf until he died!” Lucio said, exasperated and angling his body away from me to protect the camera from my reach.

  I frowned at that statement, remembering the back corner that had hid the camera. “Doesn’t matter; it wasn’t ours to take.”

  “Then it’s on me, SC, not you. I decided to take it, and I’m still deciding to take it. My decision, my risk.”

  “Fine,” I said, then remembered my mother’s words from only a few days before, stinging as I said them. “But it’s not just your risk, Lucio. It’s all of ours.”

  We returned to the warehouse, climbing the steps to find an empty roof, and waited next to the portal for the others. A half hour later, they arrived, Slugger and Darian each lugging bulging suitcases up the flights of stairs.

  “Finally,” Darian huffed, hands on his knees when they emerged. “Gifts for your highness.” He bowed to Lucio, then he turned to Lola, who followed close behind them. “Though princess here refused to carry anything more than a handbag.”

  Lola’s face went cold and she fixed him with a stare, then huffed and continued to walk. “You should bow to me, then, if you wish to be socially correct,” she said over her shoulder, tossing her hair as Slugger spoke up.

  “Oi, if you wanted it lighter, all you had to do was ask,” he said, throwing his bag in the air as if it were empty.

  “What? Damn, I forgot. What the hell, Slugger? Why would you not have offered?” Darian asked, staring after Lola with his lips pursed and sweat dripping from his forehead.

  “More entertaining to watch! Besides, the exercise could do ya some good! Getting a little pudgy from your stay in the high class life.” He poked at Darian’s stomach, while Darian swatted him away. Lucio walked over to inspect the bags, unzipping them and flipping them open to view the contents.

  “What?! There’s a hole in this at the elbow!” he exclaimed, holding up the suit he requested. “And you don’t fold a suit.”

  “Finest that the thrift store could offer,” said Slugger. “Besides, when did you become an expert in clothing? Last I checked, you wore the same shirt three days in a row.”

  “It’s called method acting, Slugger. It’s a technique. I’m not being me, I’m being my role.”

  “And it’s the only way you’ll show some class!” jabbed Darian, while Lola hid a smile.

  Ignoring them, Lucio continued sifting through the bags, checking items off a list and shaking his head with disapproval. He held a scrunched shirt up to the light, running his thumb over a missing button before balling it up and throwing it off the edge of the roof.

  “Not good enough; it has to go,” he said then closed the bags. “Good thing you bought two.”

  “You can do your own shopping if you’re going to be insufferable,” said Lola, watching the shirt as it fell to the street below.

  “I’m just trying to make sure this works,” protested Lucio. “This plan is like planting a memory. The smallest of details can unravel everything. We have to cover what we can and divert attention away from what we can’t. We need full immersion — it’s like a Hollywood set; it doesn’t matter if the buildings are fake and barely standing, it just matters that they look real and are standing. The second someone starts poking around, the set caves in, and that’s when we’re in trouble.”

  “Then you just alter their memory, and we’re good to go,” said Lola, waving a hand.

  “No— my ability rests on their belief,” Lucio said. “If they know it’s a lie, it’s worthless. Instead, how about you just pull us into the other side as an escape?”

  “Never speak of that again,” she hissed, checking the rooftop to make sure we were alone. “At all costs, we avoid the other side after we leave. There are more eyes where we are going, more Transients. We will not pass through unseen.”

  “So what? I don’t get what the problem is. Not like we’re trespassing. Plus, you’ve been using it as your personal garbage disposal.”

  “The other side is considered sacred ground to many. To step in there without being a Transient, or even as an unworthy Transient, means death. Objects are different, objects hold no morality, they can be brought to either world without qualms. But of all people, how do you think your actions would stand up against a tribunal of the religious?”

  “Oi, I was raised Catholic. I can give you an indication,” Slugger said, then pointed around the group, starting with Lucio.

  “Hell, and I don’t even need to list the sins. Something or other about bearing false witness, which is your specialty.”

  Then his finger landed on Darian.

  “Purgatory. You’ve still got a chance but better shape up.”

  “Appreciate the compliment, Slugger,” said Darian with a nod.

  “SC will join you there, if he gets his thoughts off revenge,” Slugger continued, and I shivered at the thought, the image of Larissa in the alleyway rolling through my mind once more. There was no judgment that could defend that. I bit my lip and closed my fist, pushing away the sensation of my power that lingered with the dark orb above my wrist. I’d have to be more careful.

  “Lola, Hell,” announced Slugger. “I don’t remember much about church, but pride is supposed to be a sin. You can’t make that one disappear. And me? Well, I’ve got loads of sins, but among them is being a liar, so I’ll be in Heaven. For your sake, I hope they give out plus ones on their invitations.”

  Lola rolled her eyes as he laughed, and I started adjusting the space around the portal. I’d started to become more used to the distortion, but a headache still l
ingered from earlier in the day, interfering with my concentration. But after two tries, Slugger stepped through with half the luggage, and the others followed. Then I alone stood on the rooftop, the heat of the sun reflecting off the metal onto my skin, sweat dripping down my back. Hearing Slugger’s voice repeated in my mind.

  “Purgatory, Hell,” it said. And the words were repeated by a chorus of other voices, Larissa’s and Peregrine’s, then Roland, and my mother. Swallowing, I stepped through the portal, closing it rapidly behind me to leave them behind.

  But my power could not shut them away, and they followed unbidden, their whispers in the corners of my mind.

  Chapter 37

  We hid the supplies in Lola’s room then ate dinner under my mother’s glare. She’d spent half an hour checking her traps, making sure that none of the fishing lines had been removed and that none of our shoes bore the telltale blue paint. So far, everything had come back clean— all except for the looks on our faces and the silence at the table.

  “Lucio, aren’t you going to ask for seconds?” my mother asked, her eyes narrowing when he shook his head.

  “Ah, no thanks, miss, that was plenty tonight!” he answered, swirling the mashed potatoes around his plate to break up lakes of gravy.

  “That’s polite of you, Lucio,” she answered, then looked to her left. “And you, Darian, how was your day?”

  “The usual,” Darian said, his face stone, his mouth chewing mechanically before he spoke. “Brushed up on studying, then beat Lucio in some chess.”

  “Do you even play chess, Lucio?” my mother inquired, her gaze lingering on Darian.

  “Poorly,” piped up Slugger when Lucio froze. “Darian only got him to play because he said the rules were the same as checkers! Child cruelty, it was, watching that match.”

  “And you, Lola? What did you think about today?” My mother scanned her like a polygraph, though Lola held up to the test.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary,” she said, flipping the page of her book in her lap and wiping her mouth with a napkin. “I did finish two hundred pages of reading, which means they weren’t too obnoxious.”

  “Good!” said my mother, folding her arms across her chest. “See? We can have a normal day here, we can have fun without going above ground! And then we can plan some events where we all go together, safely.”

  We finished dinner, and each of us retired to our rooms, but not before my mother pulled me aside. And when she spoke, my eyes were cast at the floor, not meeting hers.

  “Look, SC. I know you’re mad at me, but I just wanted to let you know I’m proud of you,”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, then helped her with the dishes. Soon after, she retired to her room, after which she would be cleaning up in the shower we had found- here in the underground, they were my mother’s small luxury, and without a water bill she usually took at least an hour to clean off the anxiety of the day.

  Behind me, Lola disappeared— though she had reservations about transporting us through the other side; to her, it seemed more of a home than our own world. Even her body seemed more solid there, her hair less translucent, her skin more tangible. As if she belonged there more than here.

  But now, Lola was spiriting away with a message, passing through my mother’s traps without stirring them. Heading to the world above, as I made my way to Lucio’s room.

  I stepped over mounds of clothes and granola bar wrappers that were clogged like a dam at the entrance, avoiding the clutter strewn from the empty shelves onto the floor. Dodging a dresser drawer that was half thrust outwards, I stopped at the edge of his bed, peering down at Lucio, who lay on his back among a nest of covers. He held a book above him, the one he had checked out from the library, Perspective Makes a Scene, and blew a lock of blonde hair out of his eyes.

  “All right, director,” I said when he put it down. “You ready for this? Got any last-minute requests?”

  “Stage is set, script written, music scored,” he responded, sitting up to lean against the backboard and crossing his hands over his chest. “Let’s just hope the actors remember their lines.”

  “You just have to trust them,” I said. “Let them improvise a bit. They’re smart, they can figure it out on their own. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

  “It does have to be perfect!” he protested, slamming his fist down on the mattress. “One wrong move, SC, and the entire plan comes undone. Do you know what Ficher uses for his movie props? He uses the real deal— in A Pharaoh's Way, he filmed actual ancient artifacts! The value of his set was worth more than the sales at the box office!”

  “Lucio, you said it yourself— it’s much easier to believe a lie when you think it’s truth. Everyone watching a movie knows it’s a lie. They’re looking to disprove it. But everyone will think our story is true— they’ll be looking for reasons to support that. Give them reasons to follow, rather than trying to hide the flaws that will give them doubts. And I think that will help resolve your problem with your actors too.”

  “It’s easy to say that.” He shifted, crossing his legs. “But all the cracks seem obvious. How did you do it, when we followed your plan?”

  “I think the first step is to believe in it,” I said, then hesitated. “Or at least, to pretend to.”

  Chapter 38

  “You were going to leave me behind again, weren’t you!” accused Arial, her finger pointing at me as she attempted to comb her hair back into place after her flight. She’d zipped through the tunnels and now picked out fishing line that had tangled around her shirt, dragging small pieces of tape after her. “Why all the fishing line? Were you trying to net me?”

  “I attempted to warn her,” said Lola, popping into place next to Arial and causing her to jump six feet into the air.

  “And what’s this about?” Arial continued from above, gesturing at Lola. “She lives with you now? How come you didn’t tell me about this?”

  “Technically, she’s always been here,” Slugger said, then fell silent under my glare.

  “Not helping, Slugger,” I said. “But that’s why we sent her to get you, Arial, because we didn’t want you to be left behind. And we would have kept you in the loop, but we’ve been under house arrest. My mother had enough of us sneaking out. Everything happened pretty fast.”

  “Well, while you all have been lounging around down here, I’ve been keeping an eye out for police activity. Just a few days ago, I think they almost found who they were looking for— there’s a huge section of the street ripped up where they were searching, but they left empty-handed. By the time I got there, the person had disappeared. Since then, I’ve been up on the skyscraper each night, but I haven’t seen anything out of the normal.”

  Slugger whistled then stood up from his chair and turned to walk away. “Oh, someone’s in trouble now,” he said over his shoulder. “I think I’ll be watching this one from a distance. Wouldn’t want my hair to get singed.”

  “What’s he talking about?” demanded Arial, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “Well, erm, we sort of found who they were looking for,” I started as Slugger backed further away. “Like a week ago or so.”

  “And so you just had me perching atop a skyscraper for fun? Do you know how many hours of sleep I lost?” Arial demanded. “Did you really just leave me up there for no reason at all?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to forget about you, but—”

  “You forgot about me?” Her voice raised as she quivered, her face turning a deep red. “All this time, I thought I was helping you out and you forgot? Were you planning on just leaving me on that rooftop in surveillance forever?”

  “Look, I’m sorry,” I answered, keeping my voice calm. “A lot has happened. I didn’t mean to keep you in the dark. Things are heating up with Lacit and we’ll need to move quick if we want to stop him.”

  “Hah! See, it would have been so much easier if you just reached out!” She threw her shoulders back and raised her chin in the air as she drifted downward
s. “We don’t have to worry about Lacit anymore— just yesterday, I tailed his cop car to the airport, where he was dropped off. By the looks of his baggage, he’s gone for good!”

  “He’s what?” I stammered while my face paled. “You saw him go?”

  “Yup!” she proclaimed with a smile. “So it sounds like that problem solved itself.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” I started urgently. “Arial, I need you to tell us what time you saw him arrive at the airport. When did he get there?”

  “What don’t I understand?” she asked, the confidence billowing over her. “What’s wrong?”

  “First, when did he leave?”

  “I don’t know, around ten last night?” she said, scrunching her eyebrows together. “Maybe ten fifteen?”

  “Slugger, Darian,” I called. “Find out what flights left the airport between eleven and one last night heading near the Amazon. Lola, go with them. They might need your help with geography.”

  “Yes, sir!” chimed Darian. They’d need a phone, but the pay phones in the tunnels above still worked, and Arial had already set off all my mother’s traps.

  “Did I do something?” pried Arial. “I still don’t understand what’s wrong.”

  “No, it’s not your fault,” I said, then explained everything. How they were looking for Lola, how Lacit was heading to the Amazon. And how we had to cut him off before he completed his mission. Her face fell while her shoulders slumped as I finished, her voice deflated as she spoke.

  “So it’s bad I let him go; no, that I let him escape,” she said.

  “Well, it’s bad he got away, but good that we now know and we know where he’s going,” I said. “And good because we can now catch him. Slugger, Darian, what’s the flight status?”

  “Two flights from here to South America during that time,” Darian responded, and behind him, Lola spoke up.

 

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