Z

by Michael Thomas Ford

As he kept walking, his mind slipped into a comforting fog. The part of Josh that worried about everything disappeared and was replaced by a feeling of invincibility. Nobody could hurt him. They would be afraid of him. The world around him became all about sensations. The rain on his skin. The smell of the air. The sounds of cars honking and voices chattering like birds. All of it swirled around in his head like a storm.

  A Boarder whizzed past him, the wheels of his board clack-clack-clacking on the pavement. They tossed up water behind them, and the spray caught the light from the streetlamps and dazzled Josh’s eyes. The Boarder laughed, the sound rolling through Josh’s head like waves. He laughed too. Everything was okay now. Charlie didn’t matter. Scrawl didn’t matter. Firecracker didn’t matter.

  Nothing mattered.

  The peaceful feeling lasted until he reached the center of the park, where a group of Zooeys was dancing in the rain beneath a streetlamp. The frantic, pounding beat of techno music filled the air as the rabbits, cats, and kangaroos bounced up and down, their paws waving wildly and their heads going back and forth. Watching them, Josh began to feel afraid. The music seemed to wrap around his heart, replacing its steady pumping with jerky, painful lurches.

  Anger bloomed in his mind, expanding like a flower opening to the sun. The Zooeys had ruined his moment of happiness. Their thumping music and frenzied dancing pulled at him, trying to drag him into the dizzying chaos. Josh fought it off, resisting. He had to make it stop.

  With a roar he charged into the group, pushing bodies to the ground and trying to find the source of the tormenting music. Frightened Zooeys screamed and crawled away from him as he yelled at them to shut up. He grabbed a lion by the throat and pulled him close, so that their faces were almost touching. He could feel the lion’s heart beating like a drum in his mind, and smelled the stench of fear. “Where is it?” Josh shouted. “Where is it?”

  The Zooey shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I don’t know!”

  Josh shoved the lion away. Now the Zooeys were in a circle around him, staring in terror. He whirled around and around, daring them to come closer. “I’ll kill you!” he screamed. “I’ll kill all of you!”

  And he really did want to hurt them. He ran for them and they scattered, fleeing into the dark. Watching them go, Josh began to laugh. They’re afraid of me, he thought with delight. They’re afraid of me. It made him feel strong. No one—nothing—could harm him.

  “Hey!” a voice called out.

  He turned to see three Boarders behind him. One, a boy wearing a T-shirt that said BOARD > BORED on it, shook his head. “That wasn’t cool, man. They were just having fun.”

  Josh growled. The boy stepped back but didn’t run.

  “You should leave,” said another Boarder, a girl with dreadlocks threaded through with beads in every color.

  Josh laughed at her. She was weak. And she was telling him what to do.

  “Maybe we should show him the way out,” the third Boarder said. Not much bigger than Emily, he was stick thin.

  Josh sneered at him. “Maybe you should try,” he said.

  He dashed in their direction. Unlike the Zooeys, though, they didn’t run. They met his attack, closing in as he aimed for the smallest one. As his head butted into the boy’s chest, the others tackled him. Josh fell to the pavement. His face hit the ground hard, and he felt his cheek scraped raw.

  Rolling onto his back, Josh kicked and clawed at the Boarders. His fingers found the girl’s hair and pulled hard. She yelped in pain, then slammed her fist into his nose. Blood spurted out. Josh could taste it on his lips, thick and metallic. The smell, too, was overwhelming, making him hungry and sick at the same time.

  The first Boarder was on top of Josh now, trying to pin his arms to the ground. Josh bucked, throwing him off, and rolled on top of him. He put his hands around the boy’s throat and started to squeeze. He saw the boy’s eyes widen in fear as his air was cut off.

  Josh wanted to see him die. By choking him, he could destroy everything that was gnawing at him. His mind skipped from thought to thought, and image to image. Charlie. The burst of fire from a flamethrower. Firecracker. The melting face of a z. It was like watching a holofilm gone crazy. Only by killing the Boarder could he make it stop.

  Then he was flung sideways as a shower of falling stars crossed his vision. There was a loud roaring in his ears, as if a huge unseen wave had crashed over him. He looked up and saw the skinny Boarder staring down at him. The boy was holding the end of his board in both hands and raising it up for a second blow. Josh watched as it came toward him.

  Josh woke up choking. His mouth was filled with water, and he couldn’t breathe through his nose. He spat, trying to clear his throat, and gagged. A horrible iron taste coated his mouth. He wiped his lips with his hand and it came away red. That’s blood, he thought, wondering whose it was.

  The rain was falling hard, and it was dark. He tried to sit up, but pain rocketed through his head. He touched his nose, and again his fingers were painted red. The rain washed away the blood, turning it pink as it dripped onto Josh’s shirt. His head swam, and he thought he might pass out, so he sat quietly, just trying to breathe.

  He was also cold. The rain had soaked him, and he was shivering. He rubbed his hands on his arms to warm them, but it did no good. His teeth were chattering, clicking together in an erratic dance. He blew his nose to clear it, and a thick glob of half-clotted blood splattered onto his jeans. He tried to wipe it away, but it only smeared.

  He looked around at the empty park. How long had he been lying there? Had anyone come along and seen him? Why hadn’t they helped? I could have died, he thought. Why didn’t anyone do something?

  He wondered what time it was and looked at his watch. The glass was smashed, and he could just make out the numbers. It was ten.

  He forced himself to stand up. Again he saw bursts of light in his head, and he almost sat down again. But he had to get out of there. He had to get home. There was something he needed to do, although he couldn’t remember what it was.

  Then it came to him. What Charlie had said. About how she’d set him up to settle her debt with Clatter. As if he were just hearing the news for the first time, Josh felt overcome by shock and anger. Charlie had lied to him, and she might have gotten Firecracker in trouble as well. Josh had to find out. He had to help his friend.

  He walked slowly, trying not to jar his body too much. After a few minutes he felt a little better, although he could tell that his face was pretty badly cut up. How was he going to explain that to his parents?

  Tell them you were knocked down, he thought.

  The story would probably keep him from getting in too much trouble tonight. Then he’d just have to figure out what to do about Charlie and how to find out what happened to Firecracker.

  Something else occurred to him. Once Clatter found out that Josh knew about the Z, and about what Scrawl might or might not have done to Firecracker, it was pretty much guaranteed that Josh would be next on his list of problems to solve. Which meant one thing—Josh had to get to Clatter before Clatter got to him.

  18

  Josh didn’t go home.

  He made it as far as his block, even as far as the sidewalk in front of his house, but as he set his foot on the first step, he realized with absolute certainty that if he didn’t do something now, it might be too late. Firecracker was still missing, and Charlie had told him too much. Maybe she would just keep their conversation to herself, but maybe she would run to Clatter and tell him everything.

  He turned his back on his house and walked to the corner. How was he going to find Scrawl? He didn’t even know where he lived. And what if Charlie had already gotten to him? Then he would know what Josh was after.

  Still, he had to try. He leaned against a light post and thought. His head was throbbing, but he forced himself to concentrate. What did he know about Scrawl?

  Nothing, he thought with some surprise. He’s a blank page. If someone had asked him a m
inute before what his relationship with Scrawl was, Josh would have said they were friends. But now he realized that although Scrawl was always nice to him, Josh knew very little about him. It was as if Scrawl had deliberately kept himself a mystery.

  But there had to be something, some clue Scrawl had let drop, maybe in conversation. Josh tried to remember anything they’d talked about. His mind came up empty, and he felt frustration growing in him. It was stupid to think he could handle this on his own. He should just call the police and tell them what he knew.

  Then, from the depths of his memories, something rose up. Something Scrawl had said to him when they met. What had they been talking about? Comics, he thought.

  That was it—the Pageteria. Scrawl had said that he lived a couple of blocks away from it. It was in Farside, on the other side of the city. That seemed like a good place to start.

  He went to the subway station and looked at the interactive map. Punching in where he wanted to go, he waited for the route to be highlighted on the map. After memorizing it, he passed through the gates, scanned his fare card, and went to the right platform. Fortunately, the train came only a minute later.

  The car was sparsely populated, and by the time the train reached the first stop in Farside, it was almost empty. Josh waited until the cyberconductor called out the stop he wanted, then exited into a dingy station. Water dripped from the ceiling, and the lights flickered in protest. The white tiles of the walls were dirty and broken, and the place smelled like garbage. Josh hurried up the stairs to the street.

  He walked the four blocks to the Pageteria. It was closed, but he hadn’t come there to check out the collections. He just wanted to use it as a reference point for looking for Scrawl’s house. But now that he was there, he didn’t have a clue where to begin.

  Just ask, he told himself. Someone around here must know him.

  “Right,” he said aloud. “Because there are only, like, four hundred houses around here. Why don’t I just knock on all the doors, one at a time?”

  He looked around. The streets were mostly empty, although a block away he saw a small group of people hanging around outside what looked like a bar. As he got nearer, he saw that it was three women talking to a man. The man had a mechabird on his shoulder—a beautiful blue and gold parrot—and the women were talking to it.

  “Who’s a pretty bird?” one woman said.

  The parrot cocked its head. “You are,” it squawked. The women laughed as the man grinned. Then the man noticed Josh standing there. “What are you looking at?” he said gruffly as the women eyed Josh up and down.

  “Nothing,” Josh said. “Actually, I’m looking for someone.”

  The man laughed. “Who isn’t, kid? Aren’t you out a little late for a school night? Why don’t you just run on home now.”

  Josh forced himself to keep talking. “His name is Scrawl,” he said. “I was supposed to meet him here, and—”

  “Never heard of him,” the man interrupted him. The parrot ruffled its feathers. “Never heard of him,” it echoed.

  Josh turned around. “Thanks,” he muttered as he walked off, trying to think where to go next.

  “Wait a minute,” a voice called out.

  Josh turned to see one of the women walking toward him. She was balanced on heels so high, Josh wondered how she kept from tipping over, but she wobbled only slightly as she approached. “You want to talk to Scrawl?” she asked.

  Josh nodded. “You know him?”

  The woman smiled. “Everybody around here knows Scrawl,” she said. “But only about half of them will admit it. Let me guess—you want to talk to him about getting something.”

  “Umm, sort of,” said Josh.

  “You and half the city,” the woman said. She regarded him for a long moment. “You look like a nice kid,” she said. “And you look like you’ve had a hard night. You go on over to 1372 Barber Street. It’s two blocks that way. Apartment 3D. Tell him Lola said it was okay.”

  She smiled at Josh, who smiled back. “Thanks,” he said. “Thanks a lot.”

  “No problem,” Lola said.

  Josh watched her walk back to her friends, then walked to Barber Street. A few minutes later he was standing in front of apartment 3D. Taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell. A moment later the door opened and he was looking at Scrawl.

  “How’d you get here?” Scrawl said, clearly surprised to see him.

  “Lola,” Josh said. He wasn’t in the mood for giving explanations; he wanted to hear some. “I want to talk to you about Firecracker. And Z.”

  If Scrawl was shocked, he didn’t show it. He simply nodded and held the door open. “Come inside,” he said.

  Josh entered the apartment. The furniture was stylish, and the walls were covered in framed artwork. Josh looked at the closest piece and saw that it was a drawing in ink of a costumed figure.

  “Green Lantern,” Scrawl said. “It’s just a sketch, but it cost me four months’ pay. It’s an original Gil Kane.” He handed Josh a towel. “Dry off,” he said.

  Josh toweled off his head, wincing a little at the pain.

  “What happened to you?” Scrawl asked.

  “Just a little accident,” said Josh.

  “I assume you didn’t stop by just to say hi,” Scrawl said.

  Josh looked him in the eye. “What did you do to Firecracker?”

  Scrawl didn’t blink. “We had a little chat,” he said.

  “What about?” Josh said.

  Scrawl shrugged. “I just asked him to stop following Charlie around.”

  “Huh,” Josh replied. “I thought maybe you talked about Z and how Clatter is planning on selling it on the streets.”

  This time Scrawl did blink. But he quickly regained his composure. “That didn’t come up,” he said. “But it sounds like somebody’s been talking to you about it.”

  “Where’s Firecracker now?” Josh asked.

  “How would I know?” said Scrawl.

  “Don’t lie,” Josh snapped. “He never went home.”

  Scrawl had a puzzled look on his face. “He’s missing?”

  Josh nodded. “Yeah, he’s missing. And I think you know why.”

  Scrawl sat down on a chair. “No,” he said, although he seemed to be talking to himself and not to Josh. “He said he wasn’t going to take him.”

  “Who said that?” Josh demanded. “Take him where?”

  Scrawl looked up. “Charlie told you about the Z, didn’t she?”

  Josh hesitated. If he admitted it, then Scrawl might do something to Charlie. But she was the only likely source of the information, and they both knew it. “Yes,” he said.

  Scrawl stood up. “We have to find her,” he said.

  “Wait a minute,” Josh protested. “What about Firecracker? And why do we have to find Charlie? She was fine when I saw her.”

  “When was that?” asked Scrawl.

  “About two hours ago,” said Josh.

  Scrawl shook his head. “They could already have her.”

  Josh held his hands up. “What the hell are you talking about?” he said. “If you’re trying to get me to forget about Firecracker—”

  “I didn’t do anything to your friend!” Scrawl shouted. It was the first time Josh had ever heard him lose control. All he could do was stand there, looking at Scrawl’s normally cool face twisted in anger.

  “Listen to me,” Scrawl said in a softer tone. “There’s more going on here than you know. Way more. It’s not just about Z or the game. But it’s gone too far now, and I can’t let him hurt anyone else.”

  “Clatter?” Josh asked.

  Scrawl nodded.

  “Charlie said he killed Bess,” said Josh. “Is that true?”

  Scrawl looked away. “We didn’t take her to the hospital,” he said quietly. “We put her in the incinerator.”

  “And you just let him?” Josh said angrily. “You didn’t try to stop him?”

  “You have a little sister, right?” Scrawl asked in
reply.

  Josh nodded. “So what?”

  “Well, so do I,” said Scrawl. “Two of them. Jilly and Annie. They’re nine and eleven. Do you want to know what Clatter said he would do to them if I told anybody about him, about what he does?”

  Josh shook his head. “I think I can imagine,” he said.

  “I thought I could go along with his game,” Scrawl said. “Believe it or not, he’s been good to me. I owe him a lot. But I’ve paid him back enough. And now we’re going to stop him.” He took a deep breath. “But first I have to show you something you really don’t want to see.”

  19

  Josh looked down into the hole. A foul smell wafted up through it. “I’m not going down there,” he told Scrawl. Scrawl was kneeling in the street, holding the manhole cover he’d removed a moment ago. “Just do it,” he ordered Josh. He looked over his shoulder. “That light is going to change in about fifteen seconds, and I don’t really feel like getting flattened. Now go!”

  Josh hesitated just a moment longer, then stepped onto the first rung of the ladder. When he was halfway down, Scrawl followed him, pulling the manhole cover back over the opening. Seconds later Josh heard the sound of wheels over their heads. He reached the bottom of the ladder and stepped into a puddle of water that covered his shoes and the bottoms of his jeans.

  “Nice place for a front door,” he remarked as Scrawl joined him.

  “That’s the point,” Scrawl said. “It’s the back door. And where better to put it than in the middle of one of the busiest streets in the city?”

  Josh had to admit it was a clever idea. When Scrawl had told him they were going to go into the sewers through a hole in Broad Avenue, he was sure he’d heard wrong. But as soon as the light turned red to allow the cross traffic from Seventh Street to go, Scrawl had run out, heaved the manhole cover up, and told Josh to get in.

  Josh still wasn’t sure he should trust Scrawl. But following him seemed to be his only option.

  “Did it have to be a sewer?” Josh asked.

  “Actually, it’s a storm drain,” Scrawl corrected him.