GHOST CROWN: THE TRACKS TRILOGY - Book Two

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GHOST CROWN: THE TRACKS TRILOGY - Book Two Page 5

by J. Gabriel Gates


  As they approached the big lot where all the old train cars were stored, he realized it was too late to ask her to the dance. She probably didn’t have anything to wear and would be embarrassed if he asked her. He looked at the box of chocolates again, and then he groaned and leaned his head against the glass of the window, in turmoil.

  “Sir, are you getting out?” the chauffeur asked. Bohai was a kind, quiet, middle-aged Chinese man who’d driven for the Shao family for years. Ever since Zhai had known him, he preferred to go by his American nickname, Bob.

  Zhai opened his mouth to answer and then closed it. He started to reach for the door handle, and then stopped. He thought longingly of Kate, her beautiful face, her sweet, musical Irish accent, her quirky, sweet demeanor, and he groaned again.

  As much as he wanted to be with her, as much as he longed to see her, he was unable to get out of the car. Memories of how she had looked right into his eyes with such complete trust—and how he’d almost kissed her—consumed him on a daily basis. Since the near-deadly Halloween battle, when he had seen all those strange, otherworldly creatures on the battlefield, thoughts of the lovely Kate, who had helped him fight off that zombie knight, were all that had saved his sanity.

  Those comforting daydreams, strung like luminescent pearls throughout his day, had become his treasure trove. If he asked her to the dance and she said no, that treasure would vanish. Try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to take the risk.

  Finally, he made his decision. He told Bob where to leave the chocolates and stayed in the car. When the chauffeur returned, Zhai told him to take him back to Hilltop Haven. A short time later, they pulled to a stop in front of the Banfield house, behind a long, black Cadillac Escalade limo parked at the curb.

  Zhai forced a smile to his face as he rang the doorbell. Just because he was going to be the only Topper without a date didn’t mean he had the right to ruin everyone else’s evening.

  A maid answered the door and led him through the foyer and the kitchen, to the family room at the back of the house where the whole Topper crew was gathered. Rick and Bran stood together with sodas in their hands, decked out in tuxedos, gesturing animatedly as the big screen behind them replayed the video of their football heroics from the previous evening.

  Occasionally, one of the massive Cunningham brothers or Michael Ponder would chime in with a detail or two about one of the plays from their point of view, while Dax Avery, the only non-football player of the bunch (besides Zhai) stood by, grinning and nodding. Their dates were there, too, smiling or laughing at everything they said. Maggie was sitting on a couch in the corner, with her mother. Zhai hadn’t seen Mrs. Anderson in a couple of years and he was surprised at how thin and pale she had become. Even more surprising was the person sitting next to her. Zhai hurried over to say hello.

  “Master Chin?” Zhai couldn’t imagine what reason his kung-fu teacher could possibly have for being there, dressed in such a cool, old-school tuxedo.

  “Hello, Zhai. Looking good,” Master Chin said. He rose to clap Zhai on the shoulder.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “It is my great honor to be a chaperone for Middleburg High’s eighty-seventh annual homecoming celebration. And I’m going to dance, too. Believe me, I know how to get down.”

  Zhai laughed. “I have no doubt,” he said. Master Chin was good at everything.

  “Don’t worry,” Chin said. “Go hang out with your friends.” He gave Zhai a reassuring wink, which actually made Zhai feel better. The uneasy feeling lifted a little. He was glad his sifu would be at the dance.

  Master Chin sat down and resumed his conversation with Mrs. Anderson, and Zhai turned to survey the room.

  He’d heard from Rick that Maggie had hooked Dax and Michael up with her best friends, Bobbi Jean and Lisa Marie, but Zhai couldn’t quite remember who was going with whom. Toppers and their assorted dates were sitting or standing around with soft drinks or bottled water, nibbling on an assortment of catered snacks from Spinnacle, the best restaurant in town. Even Zhai’s sister was there with her friend Weston Darling.

  Like Li, Wes was a freshman and he was in all of Li’s honors classes. They had been working together on a science project when she had lapsed into that mysterious coma a few weeks ago and he had travelled to the hospital in Topeka several times to visit her. He had even taken her some flowers and a teddy bear. After her recovery, when Zhai teased her about a romantic interest between them, Li had merely chirped her happy little laugh as if it were the silliest thing he had ever said in his life. Still, she and Weston had been nearly inseparable at school, hanging out together between classes and always eating lunch together. And now here they were, going to the homecoming dance together.

  Weston’s family lived in one of the biggest houses in Hilltop Haven. The story was that his father had been a professor at Stanford, then a speech writer for one of the Presidents Bush, before leaving politics to settle in Middleburg. Wes was slender, almost willowy, with pale skin, small, sharp brown eyes, and short, blond hair that was always perfectly styled, never out of place. All the kids from Hilltop Haven dressed really well, but this kid took preppy to a whole new level. His dress pants—he never wore jeans—were always immaculately pressed, and he usually wore a sweater vest over an oxford shirt and a perfectly knotted necktie. He was the sort of kid who would get picked on non-stop in most schools, but at Middleburg High, he’d managed to fly under the radar. With things always tense between the Toppers and the Flatliners, no one had time to mess with someone as unassuming as Weston. It was probably one of the few times in history when a gang war actually made someone’s life easier, Zhai thought.

  Li smiled as she saw Zhai approach and his spirit lifted at the sight of her, so bright and healthy after the terrible illness she’d suffered. Perhaps he was biased, but he thought she looked even more beautiful than she did before she got sick. And he was incredibly grateful that his quest to find healing for her had succeeded.

  “Hey, Zhai!” she said, giving him a quick hug. Weston nodded politely and shook his hand. “Weston, get me a Coke,” Li ordered.

  “Sure, Li. Excuse me, Zhai,” he replied pleasantly and headed off toward the kitchen.

  “Hey, where’s Aimee?” Zhai asked Li.

  “Um, I don’t know.” Li looked around. “I haven’t seen her.”

  Rick had told Zhai he’d made sure that Aimee was going to the dance with Bran, and as far as Zhai could tell, everyone else was here. She was probably upstairs, getting ready. Zhai forced himself to relax. He would hate to have some kind of standoff with the Flatliners tonight and if Aimee was with Raphael (there were wild rumors going around school that the two were in love), he knew it would come to that.

  “Zhai!” Rick called, spotting him from across the room. “What’s up, man? You see the game?”

  “I did. Great job. You too, Bran. You guys were awesome. Is Aimee around?”

  Rick’s smile dissolved. “She’s getting ready over at Dalton’s. My dad didn’t want to let her go, but Dalton’s grandma talked him into it. You know Lily Rose.”

  Zhai nodded. Dalton’s grandmother was an exceptional woman. Aimee and Dalton had been inseparable since they’d been in Middleburg High’s annual autumn play together—this year it had been a production of Grease. Zhai knew Jack Banfield was not happy about their renewed friendship—but not even Rick’s dad was a match for Lily Rose. Whenever she talked to you, it was as if she was inside your head and knew all your thoughts and your innermost secrets. If anyone could convince Jack Banfield to let his daughter get ready for the dance at a house in the Flats, it was Lily Rose.

  “So, she’s meeting up with us when we get there?” Zhai asked, glancing at Bran.

  “Yep,” Bran said with his usual confident grin. “I’d look pretty silly wearing this myself.” He held up a clear, plastic box with a corsage in it.

  �
�Looks like everyone’s here,” Rick said, his unusually good humor continuing. “Let’s roll!”

  Chapter Three

  Even before the dance devolved into chaos, Ignacio felt like locking himself in a bathroom stall and hiding. It was almost funny and he couldn’t blame Raph and the rest of the Flatliners for seeing it that way. All his life, he’d thought it would be cool to have two hot girls like him at the same time. Now that it was happening, however, it was a different story. After he got home from an afternoon of delivering pizzas, he had to wait an hour for Clarisse to get ready before he could jump into the shower. She came out looking stunning, in a skimpy black dress and smoky eye shadow, with heels that made her an inch taller than Nass and blood-red lips that looked like some kind of delicious but poisonous candy.

  “Be quick, popi,” she’d teased as he had slipped past her into the bathroom. “I’m not gonna wait for you all night.”

  Of course, she’d used up all the hot water. He still wasn’t too happy with her (or with his parents) for keeping such a big secret from him, but his anger had softened. She really didn’t have anywhere else to hide and she was probably safer in Middleburg than any place else. Besides, he’d never been able to stay mad at her for very long.

  When he was suited up and looking slick he and Clarisse walked the few blocks over to Dalton’s house. Beet’s car was already in the driveway, and they found the whole crew lounging in the living room, munching on the crackers and cheese Lily Rose had set out on a big silver platter. Everyone looked pretty good except Benji, who wore a t-shirt with a tuxedo front printed on it, wrinkled black dress pants, red suspenders and a pair of clunky old Doc Martin boots. Nass started to laugh at his friend’s ironic outfit, but at that moment Dalton emerged from her room, and she looked even more spectacular than usual.

  She wore a closefitting gown of dark purple satin that looked tailor made for her, and her hair and makeup were simple and natural. She was so beautiful. If Nass had tried to visualize the perfect girl, he couldn’t have come up with anyone as stunning. He realized he was staring an instant before a stabbing pain shot through his foot.

  He looked down to see a stiletto heel pressing down on the top of his shoe. Clarisse, pretending to be oblivious to the pain she was causing, was waving happily at everyone.

  “Hey guys!” she called. “Hey, Benji—nice shirt! I love it!” Nass groaned and tapped her on the shoulder. She looked back at him, then down at his foot. “Oh—was that your foot?” she asked sweetly. “I’m sorry.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, close to his mouth, then looked smugly over at Dalton. “Hey, Dalton. Don’t you look nice!”

  Dalton managed a stiff smile. Nass could tell she was trying to make the best of the situation, and he wanted to say something to her, but then Aimee Banfield came into the room.

  Nass was surprised. Aimee and Dalton had become friends and they spent a lot of time together, but he’d never expected a girl from Hilltop Haven to be hanging out in the Flats, especially with the Flatliners crew. He doubted that her dad and brother knew where she was, and he had to wonder if Raphael had lost his mind. Hanging with Aimee at the dance was one thing but taking her into the Flats—that might be going too far. The last thing Raph should do, Nass thought, was tangle—again—with a bigwig like Jack Banfield.

  He looked around for the only person who could tell him what was going on, but Raphael was nowhere to be seen.

  “Hey, where’s Raph?” he asked Beet, who was playing the hand-slap game with Natalie.

  With Beet distracted, Natalie whacked both his hands so hard that everyone in the room winced and then laughed. “Ow,” he said, gingerly rubbing his hands.

  “Where’s Raph?” Nass repeated, getting more worried by the moment.

  “Oh, he’s coming,” Beet said. “Should be here any minute.”

  “So who’s riding with us in the Woody?” Ignacio asked.

  “We’ll go with you guys,” Emory said, and Myka, who was holding his hand, nodded.

  “Josh, Beth and Benji can go with me, then,” Beet offered.

  “What about me?” The voice was soft, tentative. It was Aimee. Just then, a horn honked outside. Beet peered out the window.

  “That’s gotta be Raph,” Beet said.

  Nass didn’t have to be intuitive to see the change in Aimee. A soft pink blush caressed her cheeks, and her eyes lit with expectation and hope, she went out onto the porch. All the Flatliners exchanged looks and crowded around the windows in Lily Rose’s living room to see what was going to happen.

  Outside, Raphael waved to his mom as she drove off. He was wearing a white suit and white shoes. His hair was combed and had some kind of product in it, and he had a small, red rosebud in his lapel. He walked up on the porch where Aimee was waiting for him, took her hand, drew her close to him, and kissed her slowly and tenderly.

  The scene froze as an image flashed into Ignacio’s mind—a vision he’d had before, not long after he came to Middleburg—a big, dark ocean wave, poised above the town, ready to crash down on it. Above the wave, ominous clouds rolled and lightning flashed. The image was there for a second or two, then gone. But Nass got the message.

  Aimee and Raphael going to the dance together was a really bad idea.

  Someone coughed and the world drifted back into motion. Emory whispered something to his date. Josh loosened his tie, as if it was choking him. Dalton seemed deep in thought. Even Benji, behind his sarcastic grin, looked a little rattled.

  It was surprising enough Aimee was in Dalton’s house at all, but the fact that she was clearly and openly going to be Raphael’s date—that was a twist even Nass wasn’t expecting. So much for going as a group, he thought.

  “Well, you all had better get going.” The gentle voice came from behind Nass, startling him. He turned to find Dalton’s grandma standing there. Her weathered, brown face looked even more creased than the last time he’d seen it but her strange, beautiful eyes were filled with just as much life. “Don’t want to miss too much of your dance,” she said. “Now, you children go on and have a good time. Be careful.”

  “Yeah, let’s get a move on, guys,” he said quickly. He tried to sound upbeat, but more than anything he was worried. He didn’t know how much of a good time anyone would have if Rick spotted his little sister dancing with the enemy.

  

  Kate Dineen hummed as she bustled around her little train car home, putting her freshly washed dishes away, stoking the fire in her little wood-burning stove and mopping the floor. She performed these tasks automatically, but her mind was far away, on her secret admirer.

  He had brought her two boxes of chocolates now, and sometimes at night, she would hear beautiful, romantic violin music drifting through the trees surrounding her little makeshift home. Each time she’d tried to find the source of the music it eluded her, and each time she knew it was a blessing that she couldn’t find him.

  “Middleburg isn’t my home, after all,” she would say to herself, out loud, as if to reinforce it. “I’ll be leavin’ as soon as I find the way.” So a romantic entanglement was impossible. That would only make it more difficult for her to go back when the time came. But the longer she stayed in this quaint little town, and the more she got to know Raphael and his friends, the more she liked the place.

  And now a secret admirer.

  She thought she knew who it was. That strange and wonderful boy who had fought off those dreadful, ancient knights just to find her and get a lock of her hair. Before she’d arrived in Middleburg, she would have thought such a thing impossible. Not anymore.

  “And what if he is the one, Kate Dineen?” she lectured herself soundly. “The one who’s givin’ you chocolates and playin’ music for you—you cannot think to get involved with him. Are you daft?”

  But in the deepest, most secret part of her, she was dying to meet her mysterious suito
r. As she thought of him, she got that feeling again. She stopped cleaning, her head tilted to one side as she listened . . . waited. Yes, there it was again—a tingly, self-conscious sensation, as if someone was watching her—and it wasn’t the sort of warm presence her secret admirer exuded.

  This feeling was cold and unsettling, and she’d had it on and off all night.

  She went to the window, pulled back the curtain and peered out at the desolate landscape of overturned freight cars and battered, burned-out passenger cars around her home. Raphael called it the locomotive graveyard. She scanned the horizon slowly but, as she expected, there was nothing there. Just moonlight, shadows and silence. She let the curtain fall into place and resumed mopping. When she was finished with her chores, she decided, she would reward herself with a nice cup of tea and two of the chocolates her secret admirer had sent.

  She tried to pick up the song she was humming before, but the unsettling feeling did not go away.

  

  Aimee had a sudden, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as Dalton parked her grandma’s station wagon in a far corner of the crowded student lot. Going into the dance with the Flatliners was not no big deal, as she’d been telling herself, and now that the moment had arrived she was starting to worry. She glanced around for any sign of Rick. His car wasn’t there, which was a relief—but he was sure to show up at some point. The plan was for Aimee to walk in with Dalton, Nass and Clarisse, with Raphael waiting at least fifteen minutes before going in. He took her hand briefly and let it go.

  “Go on,” he said. “I’ll see you inside. The longer we stand here together, the more chance Rick or one of his goons will see us.”

  “He’s right,” Dalton said. “We should go in.”

  Raphael smiled at Aimee and she wished he would take her hand again. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll watch for a chance to dance with you—and I’ll dance with you every chance I get.”

  Aimee smiled and started to walk away from him, but her soul cried out against the unfairness of the situation. All the others were entering the dance with their dates, and she knew none of them could possibly share the feelings she and Raphael did. It was ridiculous. She stopped and turned back to him.

 

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