Felix signed okay, ran to a wheeled Dumpster at the other end of the alley, and pushed. It didn’t move an inch. He repositioned and tried again. My heart sank when I saw his feet pedaling but the Dumpster going nowhere.
Sloane stomped down the alley in her heels and took her place beside Felix. There was metallic grinding as the two of them pushed the Dumpster until it was right below us.
“Whoa . . . Sloane’s strong,” Digby said.
“That’s weird. Usually, she needs help opening her iced tea,” Henry said. “Must be the excitement.”
Digby climbed the windowsill, about to jump, when Felix motioned for him to wait. Digby’s phone buzzed.
“Nice. Nerds. Very useful.” Digby handed us his phone, where we saw a page titled “How to Jump into a Dumpster and Live: Three Steps.” It had a GIF of a guy doing it. “Straight down, aim for the middle, land on your back. Easy-peasy.”
My brain screamed. I noticed a line of sweat along Digby’s hairline and felt better about my slimy armpits.
Digby took a breath and dropped like a rock. It looked terrifying, but on the bright side, it was over in a second. He got up and fluffed the trash for the next person.
“Zoe, you next,” Henry said.
I climbed up, thinking of ways to stall, when Ezekiel did the horror movie thing of twisting the bathroom doorknob.
“Hey, babe, d’you lock the bathroom?” Ezekiel said.
All I needed to hear. I pushed off the ledge. I thought I’d have a million thoughts on the way down the way people say your life flashes before you, but really, my mind was blank. Then I landed, my arms still crossed over my chest, my skirt feathers slowly fluttering down onto me.
Digby dragged me out. I barely felt my legs under me as we all ran to the limo. Only the tap-tap-tap of my shoes told me I was moving. I didn’t even notice Henry jump down after me.
“What about Marina? Was she there?” Sloane said.
“Just run, Sloane,” Digby said.
When we got back, the limo’s window was shattered. Dusty was still passed out and Bill was crying again. “He grabbed me.”
“He was probably just trying to sit up,” I said.
“I pushed him and he hit his head on the window . . . I think I killed him,” Bill said.
Felix checked Dusty’s pulse again. “Nope. Still alive. But if he wasn’t concussed before, he is now. He needs a doctor.”
“But how can we leave Marina in there? With that guy?” Sloane said. “Who was a creep. He tried to kiss me! Anyway, let’s get her out.” The words gushed from her. There was something extra behind the usual shouty rah-rah of her inner cheerleader.
“Um . . . she’s not blinking. Like, at all,” I said.
Digby grabbed Sloane’s face. It looked like he was going in for a kiss.
“Dude. I’m right here,” Henry said.
“Criminal, get any closer and I’ll knee you in the balls,” Sloane said.
“What’s up, princess? Not exciting enough for you?” Digby said. “Pupils blown big as dishes, you’re panting, it’s fifty degrees out, and you have a sweat mustache.”
“I do not.” Sloane wiped her upper lip.
“What’s going on?” Henry said.
“Your girlfriend’s high,” Digby said.
“She’s what?” Henry said.
“I’m what?” Sloane said.
“She’s artificially stimulated, dude,” Digby said.
It made sense. I imagined Sloane going from diet pills in high school, binge drinking and inhaled powders in college, to clear hard liquors and prescription pills to keep it ladylike after she lands a plastic surgeon husband after graduation.
“Looks like speed,” Digby said.
Same thing as diet pills. I did a small fist pump.
“Um, no, I don’t do drugs. Those things suck the pretty right out of you,” Sloane said.
“She looks off,” Henry said.
“I do feel kinda weird,” Sloane said.
“Hmmm . . . I wonder.” Felix took Sloane’s pulse. “One twenty. Yup. Probably what happened.”
“Felix. Explain,” Digby said.
“She twisted her ankle on the stairs and she asked if I had a painkiller . . .” Felix said.
“You gave her the pill Floyd gave you,” Digby said.
“By accident.” Felix shook out a travel-sized tube of Aleve. “Did it look like these? Or was it more rounded?”
Sloane slapped his hand so the pills showered over us in the limo. “How do I know? They all look the same.”
“I think we have our answer,” I said.
“She needs a doctor,” Henry said.
“Dusty too,” Digby said. “Take them in the limo.”
“What about you?” Henry said.
“I’m sticking around,” Digby said. To me he whispered, “I need to get her out of there.”
Dusty sat up, lifted his forefinger like he was about to make a proclamation, and then passed out cold again.
“That can’t be good, Henry. Get him to the hospital,” Digby said. “In fact, you guys should all leave.”
Digby climbed out the limo door. I wasn’t particularly excited about trying to convince Marina to leave with us when she clearly thought she was having a ball, but the sight of Digby standing alone on the sidewalk was wrong. Then I saw something like fear momentarily flit across his face.
“I can’t just leave him there,” Henry said.
“It’s okay. I’m staying,” I said.
“Me too,” Felix said.
We both climbed out of the limo. Henry rolled down his window and said, “Wow . . . no need to worry then.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything too crazy,” I said.
Beside me, Digby tried to hide the fact that he was happy we were staying behind with him.
“Please, I wanna leave,” Bill said.
“Seriously, Henry. Get them out of here,” I said.
And even though she’d used me to hang out with Digby, I still felt sorry for Bill. Things are never easy on Planet Digby, but hers had been a particularly difficult initiation.
Watching them drive away, I was terrified. We faced a bag of guns and explosives and a violent runaway, we were downtown without a ride, and Felix’s cape was fluttering behind him in the breeze.
“We’re dead meat,” I said.
As usual, though, Digby had his priorities straight.
“So, Bill’s interesting,” Digby said.
I rolled my eyes.
“I saw that,” Digby said. “So much for sisterhood . . .”
“Turns out we’ve got nothing in common,” I said.
“Henry and I have barely anything in common, and man . . . Felix!” Digby said. “You and I have nothing in common, right?”
Felix shook his head.
“We don’t fight like you girls do,” Digby said. “But see, Felix likes being the brain.”
Felix nodded.
“And Henry’s the jock, and I’m—” Digby said.
“The criminal and Sloane’s the princess . . . blah-blah-blah,” I said. “What’s your point?”
“But you and Bill are fighting over the same spot,” Digby said.
“And we can’t both be in the group?” I said.
“Come on, Zoe, even I know there can only be one one-of-the-guys girl in the group. In case you don’t know Seinfeld or That ’70s Show, teen movies tell you the same thing. EuroTrip . . . that’s why the drummer in Scott Pilgrim vs. the World was mad . . .” Felix said.
“Wow, you watch a lot of stuff,” Digby said.
“Research. Dad doesn’t want me turning out like some weirdo nerd,” Felix said.
“Um, first, life is not a sitcom. Second, where are we going? We seem to be walking away fr
om the motel,” I said.
“We’re gonna check out some storage places nearby to figure out which this belongs to.” Digby held up a set of keys.
“Where’d you get those from?” I said.
“Ezekiel’s bag,” Digby said.
“You stole them out of his bag of guns and explosives?” I said. “What a great idea. How is that going to help us get her out of there?”
“Who?” Felix said.
I’d forgotten we were still keeping Marina a secret from them. Great. More secrets.
“Relax . . . it’s all part of the plan,” Digby said. He knit his fingers together. “Don’t worry, it’s very cohesive.”
“I can’t even tell you how confident I feel now,” I said.
“Me too!” Felix said.
“I don’t really, Felix,” I said.
Digby took out his phone and got on his map app. “All the storage places are close by . . .”
“How do you even know those are storage keys?” I said.
“Clearly, your mom moved the classy way and hired movers. One thing you learn a lot about when you have divorced parents who can’t afford movers is self-storage units. The ones in Texas have AC. Upstate, they’re heated. Good ones have pest control. Seen them all,” Digby said. “This is an RFID keycard and this is a key to a radial pin tumbler lock. I opened one with the shaft of a Bic once.”
Felix took the keys. “J22. Row J, door 22?”
“So we just walk to these places and try all the J22s? My feet hurt,” I said. “Can I see your phone?”
I didn’t really expect to do anything useful, but to my surprise, one name on the list of storage places actually rang a bell.
“This one,” I said. “The U-Store on Irving.”
“Are you saying that because it’s the closest?” Digby said.
“No, but it’s a bonus that it is,” I said. “When Ezekiel and Floyd were talking by the Dumpster, I thought they were calling someone a ‘used whore’ but . . .”
“U-Store,” Digby said. “Okay. Let’s go.”
He grabbed my hand and ran, dragging me behind him. I would’ve begged him to slow down, but I could hardly breathe. My tap shoes sounded like rifle shots on the pavement. Felix ran ahead. Man, that kid was fast. His streaming cape made him look superhero speedy.
We used the keycard to open the U-Store gate. It was an open lot with huge lockers lined up in infinite rows that filled the horizon endlessly. Totally creepy. We found J22.
“What do you think we’ll find inside?” Felix said.
“Silence of the Lambs scenario? A twisted murder museum?” Digby said.
“I’m excited,” Felix said. “I’ve never seen a corpse that wasn’t a mummy.”
“Or it could be a roomful of smuggled diamonds,” I said.
“We’re not in a Tintin adventure, Princeton,” Digby said. “These guys are small-town dealers. It’s probably a whole locker of chemicals or something.”
“At least we know it isn’t gonna be Marina’s rotting corpse,” I said.
“It could be somebody else’s corpse,” Felix said.
“I’m gonna do it.” Digby opened two heavy locks and when he got the roll-up door open, we got a shock of a different kind. “It’s an ambulance.”
“Maybe the corpse is inside,” Felix said.
“You should let the whole corpse thing go,” I said.
“It’s the ambulance stolen from the Children’s Hospital. Remember? Sloane’s parents were in the mall raising money to replace it,” Digby said.
“An ambulance? They’re car thieves too?” I said.
“It’s a weird thing to steal if they are,” Digby said. “But . . . it’s a great thing to have for delivering or picking up stuff without people noticing.”
“Maybe there’s something inside already,” Felix said.
The ambulance doors were locked and none of Digby’s stolen keys opened them. Felix noticed a small window on the side of the ambulance was slightly ajar.
“If you lift me up, I could get inside,” Felix said.
Digby hoisted Felix through the window. Once he was in, we heard rummaging noises.
“He sounds like a raccoon in a trash can,” I said. “Now what? He’s stuck.”
Through the window, we saw Felix struggling to pull free from something.
“That damned cape, I bet,” I said.
“I just realized . . . we probably shouldn’t stay here too long,” Digby said. “Since we swiped the keys to this locker, they’d have a pretty good guess where they’d find us. I mean, they’re probably headed here now.”
“That’s right, kid. Like, right now.” We turned. Ezekiel’s gun mainly pointed at Digby, but in case I thought my pumped-up kicks could run faster than his bullet, he waved it in my direction a little too. Schell was with him. Ezekiel peered into the ambulance.
“See, I told you . . . she sent them. Look out! There are three of them. The third one will jump us from out of nowhere. That’s how they got me,” Schell said.
“Shut up, Leo, no one’s here.” Ezekiel jerked his gun at Digby. We left the locker. “Close up.”
I saw Felix’s head pop up in the window for a split second before he ducked down.
“Don’t make me tell you again, kid. Lock the door,” Ezekiel said.
Digby pulled down the door and locked up. I seriously hoped Felix wasn’t afraid of the dark.
“Now move,” Ezekiel said.
Then again, what was I doing feeling sorry for Felix when we were the ones who were probably being death-marched to a body dump by the river? I remembered the no-second-location rule and my knees locked. But then I realized going to a second location that wasn’t a deserted storage facility in the dead of night would probably improve our chances of survival, so when Ezekiel screamed “Move!” again, I moved.
“Digby, are we gonna die now?” I said.
“Relax . . . I got it.” Digby smiled.
“Hand over your phones,” Ezekiel said.
We did. And when he waved for us to climb into the trunk of his car, we did that too. The confidence on Digby’s face reassured me.
Just before he shut the trunk, Ezekiel went through Digby’s pockets. I took a break from my panic to notice the weird jumble that came out. One latex glove, a whistle, half-eaten candy, string, a rubber band ball, more string . . . Then he found Marina’s old phone. “Two phones. Bet you think you’re real smart.” Ezekiel slammed down the trunk lid.
In the dark, I felt like a fist had tightened around my heart. I was glad Digby and I were packed so close, spooning, because having him next to me was the only thing keeping me from losing it totally.
“Now what?” I said.
“Yeah, uh . . . that second phone was pretty much my entire plan, so . . .” Digby said. “I got nothing right now.”
“What?!” The fist squeezed in my chest.
“Gimme a second.”
“Think fast.”
Ezekiel started the car and peeled off, fishtailing around corners. We were quiet a long time. I lay there, trying to calm down. Then I felt Digby’s hands patting around the trunk. And other places.
“Hey,” I said.
“Oh, was that you?” Digby said. “I was exploring our options.”
“They don’t include my butt, though, right?”
“Uh . . . I guess not.”
“So maybe you can get your hand off it, then?”
“Don’t be mad. Ballers be balling.”
“Seriously? Now?”
“I dunno . . . I’m a sixteen-year-old guy.”
“Should I feel better then? Guess that means you don’t think we’re gonna die.”
Digby patted the taillight by my face. He made a fist and three-inch punched the taillight’s housing, but since t
his was life and not Kill Bill, he got nowhere.
“Use one of your horseshoes and kick out the light,” he said.
I recoiled and kicked with enough force to do that, but immediately regretted it when a huge cold draft shot up my dress after I did. Digby slipped off one of my shoes and hammered out the light right in front of our faces.
“We’re going too fast. The fall would kill us if I pulled the trunk release,” he said. “Maybe when he stops and opens the trunk, we jump him.”
“I have Felix’s EpiPen. I could stab him.” I took it out. “God, I hope Felix isn’t having an allergic reaction right now.”
“He’s sitting in an ambulance, so I’d say he’s in the perfect place for an allergic reaction. There are probably a million EpiPens in that thing. So, that’s the plan. You stab him, I jump him.” Digby pointed out the view through the hole where the taillight had been. “Check it out. He’s headed to your part of town.”
“You don’t think . . . back to the mansion?” My heart lifted at the idea of getting closer to home.
“Imagine if you died across the street from home,” Digby said.
And then my heart sank.
“Then again, he didn’t kill us at the storage place, where he had privacy and a place to stash our bodies . . .” Digby said. “So, the good news is that this probably means he’s in a complicated situation. Now he’s gotta think his way out, and this guy . . . isn’t that bright.”
The car stopped in the alley behind the mansion.
“Get ready. When the trunk opens, hit him with the pen and I’ll grab his gun,” Digby said. “You can do this, Princeton. Just focus.”
“Yeah, I’m okay. I think.”
“Here he comes.”
The next bit’s a blur, and whereas memories are normally like movies, all I have of the next couple of seconds is sound bites and screenshots.
First, Ezekiel cursed when he saw the punched-out taillight. Then the trunk opened and Ezekiel stood over us. I swung the EpiPen in his direction and pushed the plunger. I felt the needle stab flesh. Then Ezekiel screamed, and I screamed, and, weirdly, Digby screamed too. Then the trunk lid slammed down again. Ezekiel paced beside the car, cursing and sobbing.
“You were supposed to take his gun,” I said.
“You freaked me out and I froze,” Digby said. “That was gross. I can’t believe you stabbed him in the eye.”
Trouble is a Friend of Mine Page 22