by Cheree Alsop
“Honest?” I looked at my mom as she smiled at me in the moonlight. There was an obvious twinkle in her eyes. I gave her a warm smile. “I like him, Mom. He’s a good guy.”
A breath left her in a sigh of relief as if she had been holding it while I contemplated. “Really? You like him?”
I nodded. “He’s genuine and kind, and he was nice to me before he knew you.”
She laughed. “What does that mean?”
I grinned. “That he wasn’t brown-nosing me just to get to you.”
“Oh, that is important,” she said with a lot of sarcasm. “Glad to know your old mother’s still got it.”
“Mom, I don’t even want to think about that,” I replied with a shudder.
She smiled. “I’m just glad you like him.”
“He’s had my back a few times. Thanks to him, I didn’t have to bring Trouble home to you on my motorcycle.”
She laughed. “That would have been a sight to see, and would have made a better picture than you and Magnum with that truck driver.”
“Mom,” I protested. “I never want to think about that again.”
“I don’t know. I think Lauren wouldn’t mind hanging a copy of it on the wall.”
I pulled the screen door open. “Do that, and we will move back to California,” I threatened.
I PULLED OFF MY shirt and was about to climb onto the cot that had become my bed until our house was built when my cell phone rang. The name “Martin Carrison” was on the caller ID. I flipped it open.
“Hey, Martin,” I said quietly so as not to wake up the family.
“‘Hey, Martin’?” he demanded in a voice that was near hysteria. “I’ve called you twenty times and you answer with ‘Hey, Martin’? What’s wrong with you?”
I checked the phone. “Sorry. The ringer was off. I’m not used to carrying a phone. What’s going on?”
“I got suspended, that’s what’s going on,” Martin blurted out. “Principal Dawson called my parents and suspended me from the Bulldog Bulletin.”
“On what grounds?” I asked, shocked.
“He said there was too much conjecture in the article. Apparently people have been calling and complaining! He said he had to suspend me on grounds of principle to show the readers that the school takes a very serious stand on lies in a school paper. Lies! Can you believe that? He said I wrote lies!”
“He said that?” I asked, trying to wrap my mind around what he was telling me.
“Not in so many words, but yes, it was implied. And now I can’t write. The paper is my life, Kelson! You know that. Everything I write is honest. I would never publish a lie.”
“I know, Martin. Take it easy. I’ll see if I can get things straightened out. I have an idea.”
Martin sounded a bit calmer when he said, “Are you sure?”
“I’m going to try,” I told him. “Just be patient. We’ll talk when I see you after school tomorrow.”
“All right, Kelson,” Martin replied. The loss in his voice ate at my heart. He sounded like a little kid whose puppy had been taken away.
“We’ll get you back on that paper,” I promised.
“Thank you, Kelson,” he said. He was a quiet for a few seconds, then he hung up.
I stared at the phone. Why would anyone get mad about the article? I thought through what I knew of the riders. The last two probably had the most to lose. I knew one of them was an old Bullet member. I dialed a number and walked outside, careful to catch the screen door so it didn’t slam behind me.
“Do you know what time it is?” Magnum answered wearily.
“Something big is happening,” I said, jumping right to the point. “We caught two of the copycat riders. Martin wrote about it in his article, and now he’s been suspended from the Bulletin. What do you know about it?”
Magnum’s voice was clearer. “Kelson, have you read the article?”
I thought of the folded papers I had tossed on the end table. “Not yet.”
“Read it and meet me at the junkyard.”
“Right now?” I asked, surprised.
“Right now,” Magnum repeated before he hung up.
I stared at the phone. The night was getting stranger by the minute. My shoulders ached from the blow with the bat, and my head was still fuzzy from getting knocked out. I could definitely use some sleep.
I went back inside and grabbed my shirt and the article. I poured a cup of fresh milk from milking that morning. I didn’t want to wake anyone up with too many lights on, so I left the refrigerator door open and sat on the floor. I took a swig of milk and skimmed to about halfway down the article. I paused with the cup midway to the floor.
“The crime spree the real Black Rider has attempted to thwart may indeed be a cover-up to an even greater threat to Sparrow. Police reports of drug production in Sparrow have doubled and maybe even tripled. It seems as though these copycat riders might be involved with something deeper. Even the real Black Rider mentioned in my interview with him that he was worried there was more to the attacks than meets the eye.”
I left the cup on the floor and hurried to the four-wheeler. Thoughts whirled through my mind. Martin’s suspension meant there might be some truth behind his accusations. If drug production had increased in Sparrow, I had missed the boat completely when it came to protecting the town.
Magnum was just shutting off his motorcycle when I pulled in. I could hear Mick barking from the tiny shack, but a shout from Jagger quieted him.
“Is it true?” I demanded.
“You finally read it?” he answered.
“Magnum, this is serious. Why didn’t I know about the drugs in Sparrow?”
He gave me a searching look. “How do you think I got my truck and motorcycle in the first place?”
“Running drugs?” I guessed, my mouth dry.
He nodded. “The Bullets are out now. We got out after things went down at the festival.” His tone was serious. “But you can’t assume that means the drugs are gone.”
I leaned against the shed and tried to clear my mind. “The drop at the festival. Why was it such a big deal?”
“We were cementing a new connection with meth runners. Sparrow hasn’t had a hard meth trade, and apparently whoever was pulling the strings wanted to increase his profits,” Magnum answered.
“Do you know who that is?”
Magnum shook his head. “There’s always a middleman, and the drops we ran were dead. We knew where to put the money and the drugs, but never met anyone else.”
My phone beeped in my pocket. I pulled it out. A text message alert flashed on the screen.
“I didn’t think these guys knew how to text,” I mused aloud as I flipped it open.
“What guys?” Magnum asked.
I glanced at him. “I now have my own task force, a group of guys from the Horseshoe who are keeping an eye on things.”
“Moving up in the world,” Magnum said in an amused tone.
“Batman had his bat signal—I have farmers and retired truckers. I think we’re even,” I replied.
Magnum laughed. “What does it say?”
“Fire in town. House.”
“Ask where,” Magnum said.
I pulled on my Black Rider gear as we waited. A minute later, the phone beeped again. “Fisher house,” I read aloud. Ice ran through my veins.
Magnum stared at me. We both ran for the motorcycles.
I had never seen Magnum drive so fast. As much as I pushed my bike, I was hard put to keep up. My knees brushed the ground at each turn. We flew through the single light, cut around a truck, and sped down the road at well over one hundred miles per hour. The Fisher house was blazing when we skidded into the driveway. My heart thundered in my throat at the sight.
Tommy and Jessica were standing in the front yard. “Where’s Derek?” Magnum yelled over the roar of the flames.
“At Josh’s,” Jessica replied, her voice shaking. Her red hair was sticking out in every direction and her nightgo
wn was tattered. She held Tommy against her. The little boy had soot smeared down his nose. “You’ve got to get Dad out!” Jessica cried.
Magnum met my gaze, his own near panic. “Come on!”
I threw my helmet down next to his and ran behind him to the back of the house. Magnum flung open the door, and flames rushed out. I could hear sirens in the distance. At the rate the fire was going, the place was going to be burned to the ground before the engines made it.
I didn’t let myself think. I ducked and followed Magnum down a flaming hallway. Heat pushed against us from every direction. Tears streamed down my face as smoke and debris filled my gaze and clogged my throat. I regretted taking off my helmet.
“This way!” Magnum called above the roar.
I followed him into a back room where I had never been. I peered through the smoke, and my heartbeat slowed at the sight of a man lying on a bed. He looked as if he weighed several hundred pounds. His legs were gone below the knees. His eyes were shut and I couldn’t tell if he was breathing.
“Help me,” Magnum said, his voice tight. He ducked under one of his father’s arms.
I did the same on the other side. We managed to pull the man to a sitting position.
“Dad!” Magnum shouted.
His father’s head lolled back. Magnum’s eyes were wide, and I could see the fear on his face. The same fear pounded against me. I refused to let it in, to listen to the roar of the fire as it threatened to consume everything in its path. I refused to let my past overwhelm me and make me a victim.
I clenched my jaw. “Let’s get him outside,” I shouted above the growl of the fire.
Magnum nodded. We slid our hands beneath his father’s legs and lifted. The strain was so great, it felt like the laceration on my back split open again. I stumbled against the door. Magnum gritted his teeth. Our gazes locked. I nodded and he answered. We made our way into the hallway.
Fire blocked the path to the back door. The hallway was alive with reaching tendrils that beckoned us into its heated embrace. My mind shuddered away from the thought.
“This way!” Magnum shouted.
We carried his father through the kitchen to the living room. I tripped and barely kept from dropping his father. I looked down to see a brick on the floor. Writing in black marker showed on it. “Payback” had been written in capital letters.
We pushed through the front door. Jessica shouted and ran to us. We carried their father to the end of the yard and set him down on the grass.
“Is he breathing?” Magnum demanded.
I checked Mr. Fisher’s pulse. It was weak, but there. I leaned my head close to his chest. The steady rise and fall filled me with relief. “He’s breathing,” I answered.
Magnum dropped to his knees next to his father. “Get your helmet,” he said.
I looked up to see the fire engines racing down the street. I found my helmet and shoved it on my head just as they pulled up. Firefighters rushed out. Several hurried to Mr. Fisher, while others pulled hoses and equipment from the trucks. I could only watch as they doused the house with water. Neighbors appeared from the darkness and watched the destruction in small groups along the street. The crackle and hiss of the fire as it protested the water sounded loud in the night.
Sparks flew into the sky. I stared at them as a memory of other sparks crowded my mind. When they dragged me out of the warehouse the night Zoey died, I had been in shock. Sparks and flaming embers flew through the air like miniature shooting stars. I remembered wishing on the stars, wishing for Zoey to be safe, for her to magically appear from the warehouse beside me, telling me that the party had been a bad idea. The burn scars across my back ached at the memory.
“Are you all right?” A hand touched my shoulder.
I blinked and stared at the face of the fire chief. I was glad he could only see his reflection on my visor instead of the fear that no doubt filled my gaze. Thank goodness the memories had surfaced after we got Mr. Fisher out.
“I—I’m okay,” I replied, forcing the thoughts away.
“We’ve got to ride,” Magnum said, reaching me.
The fire chief nodded and left us alone.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
Magnum gestured to where a medical team was loading Mr. Fisher into an ambulance. I wondered vaguely when the ambulance had arrived. “We have to find out who’s behind this. You saw the brick too. This was no accident.”
A car pulled up and Derek jumped out. The boy ran to Magnum. “What happened?” he asked, visibly shaken at the sight of his burning home.
“I don’t know,” Magnum said. “But we’re going to find out.” He put his hands on Derek’s shoulders. “You’re in charge. Take care of Jessica and Tommy. Get them to Aunt Julia’s, then go watch over Dad.”
“Okay,” Derek said, fighting to keep his voice steady.
Magnum looked at his brother for a minute, then pulled him in for a tight hug. “It’s going to be okay. Just keep everyone together. I’ll take care of this.”
He stalked to the motorcycles. I climbed on my black CBR while he took the blue one the sheriff had given him in exchange for the black CBR he had ridden as my partner. I knew better than to ask where we were going.
We drove through the night, our lone headlights cutting through the darkness like it was thick black oil pushing against us. Thoughts of the fire kept surfacing—I had to shove them back down to keep from drowning in memories. I forced everything away until it was just me and the motorcycle. The red brake light in front of me was steady, reminding me of the time Magnum had guided me home when I was about to pass out from blood loss after a knife wound. I owed him for that. I vowed to find out who had caused the fire.
MANGUM POUNDED ON THE window of a house outside of town. He waited a few seconds, then hit it again hard enough to break it.
“All right, already,” a girl’s voice called out sleepily. The window lifted and Snipe stuck her head through the opening. Her purple hair showed dully against the moonlight. I remembered fighting with her in the auditorium when they were destroying the set for the high school play. Her hair had been green then.
“Who’s responsible for burning my house down?” Magnum demanded.
Snipe flinched at his angry tone. “I don’t know. I—”
She yelped when Magnum dragged her through the window. He looked like he was about to slap her.
I set a hand on his shoulder. “Easy,” I said in an undertone.
He took a calming breath and released his hold. Snipe stumbled to her feet and glared at him. “I didn’t appreciate that,” she snapped.
“Who burned my house?” Magnum growled.
She held up her hands. “I don’t know. Like I said, I haven’t been involved with the Bullets or anyone for a while. Things were getting too crazy. I should have gotten out when you did, but I was just angry. You ditched us and didn’t even say why. And your friendship with the Black Rider here kind of threw us all for a loop.”
Magnum was taken back. He stared at her for a minute. “I—I’m sorry,” he said. He looked at me, then back at Snipe. “There are things you don’t know, things—”
“Save it,” she said, shaking her head. “Now’s not the time. If someone burned your house, it was under orders. You know where we get the orders.”
Magnum nodded. “You’re right. Thank you.” He pushed the window up further so she could climb back inside. “Sorry, Snipe.”
“You better be,” she replied, but the threat in her voice wasn’t serious. “And don’t call me Snipe. I’m not a Bullet anymore.”
Magnum looked slightly embarrassed when he said, “What should I call you?”
“My name,” she replied. At his continued silence, she sighed. “My name is Lisa, Charles.”
“Oh, right. Lisa,” Magnum replied. He linked his hands together.
She smiled at him before she stepped onto his hands. “What a gentleman, Charles.”
He laughed as he helped her bac
k into her room. “Don’t tell anyone. Wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation.”
She climbed inside, then poked her head out. “That’s one reputation it might be okay to put behind you.”
He smiled and she shut the window. When he climbed onto his motorcycle, he had a strange look on his face.
“You okay?” I asked.
He nodded. “Something to think about later, that’s all. Let’s find out who started this fire.”
We sped back toward town. I followed Magnum to the parking lot of the Sage Horseshoe bar.
“Last time I went in here, I got knocked out by a baseball bat,” I told him as he opened the door.
He looked at me in surprise. “When was that?”
“A couple of hours ago,” I replied.
“You’ve had an interesting day,” he said dryly.
“Tell me about it,” I muttered, following him inside.
It was nice to have a better reception than last time. Roger nodded at me from the bar. The place was packed despite the late hour, so I kept my helmet on.
Greg, one of the men who knew my identity, hurried up. “We’re sendin’ eyes all over town. The library’s covered, the banks, and the pool. Jethro’s at Shairo’s, and Rob’s stakin’ out Sparrow Market. The rest of the guys are about to head out in a rotation so’s everythin’ has eyes at all times.”
Magnum’s eyebrows rose. “This is better than Batman,” he said.
I shook Greg’s hand. “Thanks. I appreciate the heads-up on the fire. We have someone we need to question.”
He stepped aside and let us pass. I was surprised when Magnum walked straight to Van. “Who gave the order?” he demanded in an undertone so the rest of the bar didn’t hear. Magnum leaned over Van, his anger visible in every line of his body.
The bear-like man didn’t appear at all concerned by Magnum’s fury. “You know I’m protected,” Van replied. “You can’t touch me.”
Magnum punched him. I pulled Magnum back before he could hit the man again. A glance to the right revealed Roger holding the bat in case he needed to break up a fight. A quick look around showed that we were definitely at the center of attention in the bar.
“Not here,” I said in Magnum’s ear.