“But what about my Mom? We can’t leave her here by herself all day.”
“I stay and watch your mother. I can do both at same time. You go to school and act like everything is fine.”
“Is it?”
“Da. Yes. Everything is fine.” He waved his hand impatiently. “Now go get ready for school. I make your breakfast.”
Danny was doubtful. “You can cook?”
“Of course I can cook,” Gustav grumbled. “I am a good cook. You’ll see.”
Danny took a quick shower—cold, because Gustav had used all the hot water—and got dressed for school. As he pulled on his jeans, he smelled bacon. The aroma filled the house. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smelled it. His mouth watered, and he hurried into the kitchen, where Gustav handed him two fried eggs and bacon on white bread. Impressed, Danny inhaled the sandwich. When he was finished, he felt much better.
“You see?” Gustav asked as he scrubbed the frying pan. “You are full, yes? Feel better. Good food. Good for brain and body. Keep you strong and recharge your power.”
“I do feel better,” Danny admitted. “Maybe everything will be okay.”
If Gustav heard him, he didn’t respond.
789
Dead people began arriving at Michael Bedrik’s home shortly after nine that morning. Edward T. Rammel was the first to arrive, along with the body of Tony Amiratti Junior. Matt was next, the adult rapist inhabiting him now cowed and apologetic. With him was the possessed Sam Oberman, Gethsemane’s watchman. Within minutes, several police officers and town officials—all housing shades—arrived, as well.
Bedrik gave them their orders. Then they dispersed.
The magus smiled. It was going to be a good day, and an even better night. And when the sun rose over Brackard’s Point tomorrow morning, there would be no one left to challenge him. The town would belong to him, his own private empire.
789
Danny didn’t see Mr. Bedrik when he got to school. After homeroom, he peeked into the teacher’s classroom and learned that he had called in sick. A substitute was standing at the front of the class. Danny breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t have to encounter the magician after all.
The same couldn’t be said of his friends, no matter how hard Danny tried. Chuck and Ronnie were in several of his classes. They glared at him like a traitor, and when he tried to talk to them, they ignored him. He saw Jeremy in the halls and had to walk away when Jeremy threatened to kick his ass. Val kept her distance too, and that confused him. He’d catch her from time to time looking in his direction, pouting, eyebrows lowered in either thought or anger. As soon as Danny met her gaze, she’d turn away.
He tried to ignore them all and simply get through the day. It wasn’t easy.
At lunch, he sat alone and felt like dying.
Danny looked down at his lasagna. He toyed at it with his fork. He wasn’t hungry, but Gustav had said it was important to build up his strength. He lifted the fork to his mouth but stopped as shadows suddenly blocked his light.
Chuck, Ronnie, and Jeremy looked down at him, their faces solemn.
“Matt’s out,” Ronnie said. “We saw him out behind shop class while we were smoking.”
Danny put the fork down. “How can he be out already?”
Ronnie and Chuck didn’t respond. Jeremy shrugged. They continued staring at him.
“Did he say anything?” Danny asked.
“He wants to see you after school,” Ronnie said. “You’re supposed to go to Gethsemane.”
Danny shoveled limp pasta into his mouth and chewed slowly, looking from one friend to the other.
“Yeah, so you guys plan on helping him?”
Jeremy snorted. “Matt don’t need any help. He’s gonna fuck you up.”
Danny shook his head and kept eating.
“What are you gonna do?” Chuck asked.
“Just go away. You guys want to take his side, that’s cool. It doesn’t matter and neither do you.”
Ronnie and Jeremy glared at him. Chuck seemed confused and hurt. Danny didn’t care.
Jeremy leaned down, placing his hands on either side of Danny’s plate. “Matt said you’re supposed to meet him in the graveyard. Unless you’re chicken shit, that is. Are you?”
Danny stood up quickly and pushed Jeremy in the chest. Jeremy staggered backward. His fists curled.
“Go ahead,” Danny challenged. “You want to fight? Then let’s go.”
He regretted saying it immediately. A fight with Jeremy would delay him from getting home and finding out how his mom was, or what Gustav had planned. He didn’t have time for detention. He stared hard at Jeremy. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, a lot of things he wanted to do at that moment, but he refrained.
Rather than responding, Jeremy paled and took a step backward. Chuck and Ronnie’s eyes widened.
“I’ll let Matt kick your ass first,” Jeremy said, but his words had no conviction. “Come on, you guys. Fuck this noise. Let’s let the pussy eat his last meal.”
They turned to leave, but Danny wasn’t finished. Jeremy’s words stung him. He felt the familiar energies building inside him, and forgot all about his mother and Gustav’s warnings.
“If you see Matt, tell him to come find me.” Smiling, Danny picked up his plate. “Fuck the cemetery. Let’s do it right here. Tell him that I’ll be waiting for him.”
789
Gustav’s eyes were closed, his breathing slow and shallow. He sat cross-legged on the floor, motionless except for his hands, which he folded through a series of motions—Earth, the god Set fighting; Air, which symbolized Shu supporting the sky; Water for Leviathan; Fire for the Teraphim; Spirit, the rending and closing of the veil; the cross for the One slain; the Pentagram for the One risen; Isis mourning, the Swastika, and finally, the Trident.
Music played softly in the background. Danny’s mother had a small, battery-operated cassette deck, and Gustav had turned it on. The soothing strains of Vivaldi filled the room. Gustav let the music envelop him. He felt strong. Ready. As long as Danny didn’t waste any more power, things would go in their favor.
The music slowed, then faded and stopped.
Gustav’s eyes snapped open. He got up and checked the cassette player.
The batteries were dead, their power drained.
Synchronicity?
Whatever it was, sign or coincidence, Gustav was suddenly afraid.
789
After the last bell rang, Danny filed outside with the rest of the students, losing himself in the center of the crowd. He walked slowly, his head turning from side to side, looking for Matt or for Chuck, Ronnie, and Jeremy. There was no sign of them.
He joined up with a dozen classmates going in the same direction as him. One by one, they turned down side streets or stopped at their individual homes, bidding goodbye to the others. Their numbers dwindled to six, then four. When the last of them turned up his driveway, Danny was left alone.
And Matt walked in front of him, emerging from an alley.
“Hey, Danny. How’s it going?”
Matt stood sneering in the center of the sidewalk, hands on his hips. There was no sign of the others, and for that, Danny was silently relieved. Fighting Matt was bad enough. He didn’t want to tangle with Chuck, Ronnie, and Jeremy as well. Not now. Not today.
“You were supposed to come to the cemetery,” Matt said.
Shrugging, Danny dropped his New York Jets book bag to the pavement.
“Fuck the cemetery. Let’s get this over with. You and me, right here and now.” Danny took one step forward and balled up his fists.
Matt shook his head. He wasn’t much bigger than Danny, but he didn’t seem nervous or scared.
“Look, Danny, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but this doesn’t have to happen. I don’t want to fight you.”