Ritual

by Alex Duval

  With the principal gone, no one knew exactly when the silence should end. Eventually, hesitantly, people began to gather up their books and backpacks. Adam looked at Jason, shrugged, and stood up.

  “Jason, wow, I just kept thinking how it could have been you who died!” Sukie Goodman from his chem class said as she walked by.

  Before Jason could answer her, Brad moved up next to him.

  “Yeah, it could have been you,” he said flatly. And Jason saw something cold and hard in Brads eyes. Something that told him Brad wished it had been Jason.

  SEVEN

  Jason half wanted to ask Adam if he’d seen the look Brad gave him back in the auditorium. But then he figured it was probably better not to draw attention to it. He hoped that whatever was eating Brad—could it still be a hangover from the argument with Sienna in the hospital?—would soon blow over.

  “See you on the flip side,” Adam said when they parted ways at the end of the hall.

  “If by that you mean history, then, yeah,” Jason answered.

  As he headed toward calc, he spotted Maggie, Van Dyke, and Zach in an intense discussion near one of the trophy cases. Talking about Dominic, he assumed.

  “Hey,” he called, slowing down as he got close to them.

  None of them answered. They all just looked at him. Like they were thinking, Who the hell are you and why are you talking to us?

  Which was halfway to normal for Zach. He was a loner, even within the vampire clique, and he didn’t have a whole lot of time for humans. He didn’t seem to dislike them or anything, he just didn’t bother with them much. Kind of the way seniors didn’t bother with freshmen. He and Jason had actually had a conversation or two, what with the mutual lifesaving and all, but they weren’t exactly best mates. Still, the others weren’t usually so standoffish.

  Jason didn’t know Maggie all that well. But they’d talked. They’d hung out at parties a little. Joked around some. Hell, they’d played volleyball on Sunday. As far as he knew, she’d never had a problem with him.

  And Van Dyke. Van Dyke swam relay with him on the team. He and Jason were solid mid-level friends.

  So what was the deal?

  Jason hadn’t expected a parade for being back in school. But he did think one of them would cough up the usual “How are you?” to which Jason would respond with the usual “Fine, thanks,” before going on his way.

  You need to get a grip, he told himself as he passed the three of them. They’re crushed by Dominic’s death and you’re bent out of shape because they didn’t say hi. Come on, Freeman!

  He stopped off at his locker to get his calc book. He was going to have to make a locker stop between every class, since his injury wouldn’t allow him to carry more than one textbook at a time.

  “Can you believe she’s on the market? I never thought I’d get a shot,” Gregory Marull, star forward on the basketball team, said from two lockers down.

  “What’s the deal? She has to have cut him loose, am I right?” a guy whose voice Jason didn’t recognize asked. “Moreau’s not stupid enough to have bounced her.”

  Jason could hardly believe what he was hearing. They were talking about Sienna. Well, about Sienna and Brad, who, from the sound of things, had broken up!

  Well, that explained a few things—Brad’s die-Jason-die look, for one. Brad obviously blamed Jason, at least to some degree, for whatever had gone down between him and Sienna. And Zach, Maggie, and Van Dyke were right there with Brad, going by the freeze-out Jason had just received.

  He wondered whether Sienna had actually mentioned him as her reason for wanting to split from Brad. Jason slammed his locker closed. He hated to think that Brad blamed him. He’d never wanted to hurt Brad. The guy was his friend.

  Slow down, he warned himself. If Sienna had decided to break it off with Brad because of Jason, nobody had told him about it. Sienna hadn’t hurled herself into his arms when he pulled into the parking lot or anything. Unfortunately! Jason couldn’t help adding in the privacy of his own head.

  He knew he needed to talk to her and hoped he’d get the chance at lunch. On the other hand, he realized he’d look like such a vulture sliding up next to her table under the circumstances. And he didn’t want to give Brad any more reason to hate him.

  Jason left out a frustrated sigh. He’d just have to wait until English. He sat right behind Sienna in that class. They always talked a little before it started. It would only seem normal if they did today.

  Yes, it was definitely better to wait. It’s not like it would kill him. After all, a crossbow bolt hadn’t.

  Sienna was already in her seat when Jason walked into English. Okay, here goes, Jason thought.

  “Hey, how are you feeling?” she asked quickly, before he could even sit down. She put on a smile that looked bright, but also brittle—as if it would shatter into lipstick-coated bits of glass at any second.

  “You seem a lot better than you did on Monday. I wanted to stop by and see you yesterday, but then we heard about Dominic, and Belle really needed me,” Sienna went on.

  “Yeah, of course,” Jason answered. “How’s she doing?”

  “She had to leave school this morning,” Sienna answered. “I guess you saw her break down in assembly.”

  Jason nodded.

  “I’m trying to think of something to do for her—something everybody can do,” Sienna told him, pushing her long, silky hair back from her face. “Not a sympathy card, something else. Something …” She shook her head. “Something that doesn’t exist, basically.”

  “I don’t think anything will really take her mind off Dominic right now,” Jason agreed.

  “Maybe I’ll just try to get her really involved in prepping for the masked ball,” Sienna murmured thoughtfully. “My mom’s determined that it’s going to happen, and that means it probably will.” Sienna rolled her eyes, looking, for a moment, like her usual teasing self. “Maybe it would be good for Belle and me to bury ourselves in the million and one chores I know Mom will be happy to give us.”

  “Anything’s good if it keeps her from moping around the house,” Jason said. “I know when my grandfather died I needed a distraction. If I was alone, I just kept dwelling on things.”

  “Exactly,” Sienna agreed. “I want to try to take Belle out of herself, you know?”

  They were interrupted by Ms. Hoffman tapping Jason on the shoulder. “The detectives want to talk to you next,” she told him. “They’re using the principal’s office.”

  He stood up. “Should I take my book or … ?”

  “You might as well,” Ms. Hoffman said. “Just in case.”

  “Bye,” Sienna mouthed as Jason turned for the door.

  He tried to get his brain away from Sienna and onto Dominic during his short walk to the principal’s office.

  “Hey, it’s Lucky,” Tamburo greeted Jason when he walked through the door. Cason must be on a break, Jason decided. The younger detective was alone in the room.

  “I don’t feel exactly lucky anymore,” Jason said.

  “You’re alive, another kid’s dead. You’re lucky in my book.” Tamburo gestured for Jason to take a seat on the couch in front of the principal’s desk, while he half-sat, half-leaned on the desktop. “So take me through your story one more time.”

  “I already told you everything I can remember,” Jason said. “I haven’t thought of anything new.”

  “Sometimes just talking brings up things you thought you’d forgotten,” Tamburo said. “Besides, you were pretty out of it in the hospital.”

  “Okay. Whatever I can do to help,” Jason said. He made sure to describe every second of what had happened on the beach: what he saw on the jog, getting back to his beach junk, the sun in his eyes. Then bending down, feeling the impact of the crossbow bolt, stumbling backward and blacking out.

  “You were facing which way when the bolt hit you?” Tamburo asked when Jason had finished the story.

  “I don’t know. West, I guess,” Jason replied.


  The detective looked at him for a long moment, his expression thoughtful. “You really don’t remember anything new, do you?”

  Jason shrugged. “Sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he said. “Were there any similarities between my case and Dominic’s?”

  “Hard to say, Lucky,” Tamburo replied. “Since Dominic isn’t here to tell us what happened. There weren’t any witnesses that we know of. That’s why I’m focusing on you. You’re our best chance to catch this killer.”

  Jason didn’t answer. If he was their best chance, that didn’t seem very promising. He hadn’t seen a thing.

  “Don’t sweat it,” Tamburo said. “You’re from Michigan, right?”

  “Michigan, yeah,” Jason agreed.

  “I’ve never been there,” Tamburo said. “I heard about these kids in Kansas, though. They moved on from paintball—you ever play paintball?”

  “I played once last summer,” Jason answered, confused.

  “Anyway, these yahoos, they got bored with it. Seemed a little too tame to them. So they moved on to guns—with blanks, of course.” Tamburo shoved himself away from the desk and dropped down on the couch next to Jason. “One of them ended up killing his buddy. You can kill someone with a blank if you’re close enough. Not everyone knows that.”

  Jason raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, I never knew that,” he admitted.

  “I need to ask you something, and you’re not going to like it,” Tamburo said. “But do you think something like that could be happening around here—with crossbows?”

  “I don’t think one of my friends shot me with a crossbow in some kind of game. Or that Dominic got killed like that, no,” Jason replied.

  “You sure?” Tamburo pressed. “I’ve seen things like this before, where some kind of fraternity prank goes wrong.”

  “That’s not what this is,” Jason said, shaking his head.

  Tamburo grinned and nodded. “You know what, Lucky? I don’t think so either.” He put his motorcycle boots up on the coffee table. “So tell me, how well did you know Dominic?”

  Jason was surprised at the sudden change of subject. Apparently Detective Tamburo liked to mix things up a bit. “Not very well,” he replied. “I’m better friends with his girlfriend, Belle.”

  “Oh, really?” Tamburo raised his eyebrows.

  “Yeah. Well, Dominic is … was … kinda hard to get along with,” Jason said slowly. “He had a temper.”

  “And what about you? You got a temper?” Tamburo asked.

  “Not like that,” Jason answered honestly.

  “So you didn’t like him?” Tamburo pressed.

  “I didn’t say that,” Jason replied. “Does it matter?”

  “Maybe,” Tamburo said mildly. “I’m just trying to figure you out. I’d like to know if there’s anything about you and Dominic that’s similar.”

  “Oh.” Jason thought about it for a moment. “Actually, I’d say that Dominic and I were about as different as two people can be,” he said finally.

  Tamburo nodded. “Well, that’s going to make my job harder.”

  “How?” Jason asked.

  “I’m looking for a motive,” Tamburo explained. “Most killers follow some kind of pattern. So far, the only pattern I’m finding is his weapon of choice. Otherwise the two attacks are completely different. And so are the two victims.”

  “Well, we’re both guys,” Jason said.

  A slow smile spread across Tamburo’s face. “You got a point there, Lucky. That does narrow things down by about fifty percent. The killer doesn’t like girls.”

  “Or else he only likes girls,” Jason replied.

  “Good point.” Tamburo chuckled. “Well, you can go on back to class. You know where to find me if anything else comes into your head.”

  “You don’t think he’ll strike again, do you?” Jason asked, standing up slowly. The wound in his chest had begun to throb.

  “I don’t know, Lucky,” Tamburo said. “Probably. So do me a favor, will you? Remember what I told you about those kids in Kansas.”

  Jason stared at him blankly. “Why?”

  “Because you can never be sure where an attack might come from,” Tamburo said. “It could come from your friends. You keep an eye on them and remember that you never know what’s going on beneath the surface.”

  “I know none of my friends are killers,” Jason said firmly.

  “I hope you’re right,” the detective replied.

  Jason turned to go, wishing he’d had something—anything—to say that would help catch the crossbow killer.

  “And Jason,” Tamburo said quietly from behind him. “Don’t worry. I’ll get him.”

  EIGHT

  Jason headed directly to the pool, skipping the locker room altogether, since he didn’t have to change out of his street clothes. And, okay, because he didn’t want to deal with all the gossip that would be flying around in there. Especially since today there would be two big topics: one, Brad and Sienna, and two, the crossbow killer. Jason didn’t want to hear or think about either of them right now.

  He stared into the ultrablue water of DeVere’s Olympic-standard pool. He wanted to dive in. He didn’t know how he was going to survive two months without swimming. He knew he’d miss the adrenaline rush of the relay, and the total otherness of even just swimming laps. Swimming was a time-out for him. In the water, Jason became almost another creature—all body, or maybe all soul. There was no thought, no worries. Just movement. Water. And silence.

  Priesmeyer and a couple of the other divers were first out of the locker room. “Jason, good to see you breathing, dude,” Priesmeyer said as he sat down with his crew.

  “Good to be breathing,” Jason answered.

  Priesmeyer was one of the most devoted guys on the team. He not only shaved his legs and his pits for ultimate slide through the water, he shaved his head. He probably didn’t care all that much about the Brad and Sienna breakup. He probably cared even less whether or not Jason had any part in the split. It wasn’t as if he were one of the vampires, who mostly seemed to have closed ranks against Jason.

  “I hope this meeting’s short,” Priesmeyer said. “My two and a half pike dive was for crap last time. I need to put in some serious time on it today.”

  “I don’t know why we have to be here, anyway,” Wes Duffy, another of the divers, complained. “It’s all going to be about how the coach handles the medley without you, Freeman. There’s no one else who can take on your position. Everyone else is at least six seconds behind your breaststroke time.”

  “Not everybody,” Brad commented as he and Van Dyke joined the group. He wore his typical friendly smile, but he didn’t even glance in Jason’s direction, and his voice had an undercurrent of coldness to it. Not enough for anyone else to notice, Jason thought, just enough to make it clear to me that I’m on his shit list.

  “Not nearly everybody,” Van Dyke agreed cheerfully.

  “Meaning you two, right?” Wes said. “Either of you could cover Jason’s slot in the medley, sure. But if either of you did, that would still leave one leg of the relay empty. So, I’m basically right. There’s no one to take his spot.”

  “It might take a little time,” Brad answered. “But we have to look at the big picture. We need a long-term solution. There were a few good swimmers who didn’t make the cut. I’m sure we can get one of them up to speed.”

  Brad didn’t even bother to acknowledge Jason as he said this. It was like Jason was off the team permanently—and not even in the room.

  “Yeah, Brad pretty much held Freeman’s hand from day one,” Van Dyke put in. “Anyone who gets that kind of treatment isn’t going to have a problem on the medley team. Brad and I do the heavy lifting.”

  “Uh, Jason and I. Right here!” Harberts reminded him. Harberts was the other member of the four-person relay team.

  “No offense, Harberts,” Van Dyke said. “You know we wouldn’t be number one without you. Those competitions can get pretty int
ense. We need someone to make us laugh—you know, break the tension.”

  Everybody laughed, knowing it was just trash talk. The guys on the team liked to insult one another for fun, but they all knew just how good each and every person on the team was when it came time to compete.

  Harberts shook his head good-naturedly. “Thanks. Thanks very much. Just let me go get my big rubber nose and my polka-dot fins,” he said, but he grinned as he spoke.

  Jason forced a smile too. He wasn’t going to let anyone on the team see that Brad and Van Dyke giving him the freeze-out bothered him. Even though it did.

  Jason remembered that Brad had practically held his hand the first day of practice. He’d introduced Jason to everyone. And later he’d invited Jason to his first DeVere Heights party. Brad had been one of Jason’s first friends at the new school.

  And now Jason had clearly lost him as a friend—for good.

  Jason took a pull on his Jones WhoopAss. Like any energy drink was really going to make him feel better about the day he’d had. “Yeah, so Brad definitely doesn’t want me back on the team—ever,” he told Adam, who sat across the kitchen table with his own WhoopAss. “He kept talking about long-term solutions for the medley team, like I’m never going to heal up.” Jason set the drink back on the table, though it was quite hard to find space since Dani had her astrology charts spread out all over the place.

  “It’s not really up to him, though, right?” Adam asked. “The coach will make the call once you’re ready to swim again.”

  “Yeah,” Dani agreed. “Hey, does this look like a stellium?” She pointed to a spot on her planetary chart.

  “If I knew what a stellium was, I’d tell you,” Adam answered.

  “It’s a conjunction of three or more planets. And a conjunction, before you ask, is when the planets are at the same degree or really close. When that happens, it creates a major energy,” Dani explained. “If this is a stellium, it changes my whole reading. It means that guy I’m looking for is going to be more of a Johnny Depp than a Brad Pitt. I think.”