Alix spun to pursue, but he was lost in the smoke. Everything was shadow forms.
By the time the smoke cleared, he was gone, as if he’d blown away in the wind.
4
ALIX SAT ON SEITZ’S LOW perimeter wall, trying to get her shaking hands to be still.
Derek and Cynthia and Jonah were all missing, lost in the running crowds. She was pretty sure Derek and Cynthia would find their way back to where she was, but she suspected Jonah had seized the opportunity to escape and wouldn’t be back home before dinner.
Alix was almost glad for the moment alone. It gave her a chance to try to wrap her head around what had happened. Behind her, Widener Hall was being gone over by the police and SWAT, and now Animal Control had shown up as well. Every so often, another clot of rats would burp out of Widener’s main doors and make a break for freedom, dashing across sunny lawns for wherever the hell white rats went when they pulled a jailbreak.
2.0’s four-story tagging job continued to drip proudly down Widener Hall’s windows.
I should tell the cops, Alix thought, but that thought was followed immediately by another.
What are you going to say? That some creeper just left you a four-story love note? That he knows your dad? That you’re involved in this, somehow?
That would go over well.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Derek and Cynthia’s return. “There you are!” Cynthia said, breathlessly. “We’ve been looking everywhere!”
“You look terrible,” Derek said. “Are you okay?”
“Why?”
“Have you seen yourself?”
Alix looked down. She was dismayed to find that her blazer’s shoulder and pocket were torn. “I didn’t realize.” She patted her hair. Her French braid was undone as well. She was a total mess. “It had to have happened—”
When you were busy wrestling with your tall, dark stranger.
“I—” She stopped, feeling flustered, teetering on the edge of blurting out what had just happened to her. “I lost Jonah,” she said spontaneously. “We got caught in the crowd, and I lost him. I think he ditched.”
“Again? Seriously?” Derek asked. “That kid should have been expelled last semester.”
Cynthia elbowed him in the ribs.
“Ow. What?” Derek asked.
“We’ll help you look for him,” Cynthia said.
Alix felt guilty for the deception, but now that the lie was out, she couldn’t think of a good way to undo it, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
It’s better this way, she told herself as they started patrolling the grounds for signs of her delinquent brother. Once she had events sorted out in her mind, then maybe she’d discuss it with people. But not yet. Everything was still too weird: the vandalism of the school; the stranger—2.0, or whatever his name was—approaching her; the fact that he knew her name. She needed time to think through what she wanted to say—and whom she wanted to say it to.
Dad was always lamenting that his clients didn’t call him for advice before they started opening their mouths in the news. When Alix had been in junior high, she used to sit and watch TV with him and they’d rate CEOs’ and politicians’ announcements in the wake of scandals.
Dad had a scoring system that went from Teflon (trouble would slide right off) to Self-Immolation (lighting yourself on fire for the entertainment of the public). Sometimes he also awarded Just-Add-Gasoline points for those who were really determined to double down on their own stupid.
It had just been silly fun for Alix at the time, a way to spend quality time with her father on something they both found interesting. But now the lessons of those scoring sessions felt uncomfortably relevant. If this was going to turn into news—and it was looking more and more like it would—she had to think everything through. The last thing she needed was to run around blabbing that the merry prankster who had just destroyed Widener Hall had something to do with her and her family.
“Ask your father,” he’d said.
“You’ll like this, Alix.”
“This is for you.”
This had all the hallmarks of a Just-Add-Gasoline moment.
Across the grounds, SWAT guys were marching out of Widener Hall. Alix blinked, startled. “Are they carrying paintball guns?”
Derek started to laugh in disbelief. “I think they’re supersoakers.”
Whatever they were, they were toys, for sure. Plastic and shiny and primary school colorfuclass="underline" red and green and yellow and blue, and all of them dripping bright red paint.
Cynthia pulled out her cell phone and started snapping shots. “Check out the color contrast!” She laughed.
The news crew clearly had the same idea. The camerawoman was dashing over to capture the image of the SWAT guys in their black paramilitary uniforms with their oh-so-serious bulletproof vests and riot helmets—and their arms full of cheerful toy guns.
Alix couldn’t stifle her own laughter. She half-expected the SWAT guys to suddenly break into a song-and-dance routine. Some kind of plein air musical show with waltzing SWAT guys and candy-colored guns for props.
Maybe this was what 2.0 wanted to show me, she thought as more and more people started snapping pictures. If it was, it was actually kind of… sweet.
He grabbed you, Alix reminded herself. He’s dangerous.
So how come he didn’t hurt you? You bit him hard enough.
It was strange, when she thought about it. She’d hurt him for sure, and he hadn’t done anything in return. Given the way he’d punched Mulroy, she was certain he could have done almost anything he’d wanted to pay her back. But all he’d done was pull her close and whisper in her ear.
Maybe he liked her.
Get a grip, Alix, she thought to herself.
“He’ll turn up,” Derek said.
“What?” Alix turned, confused.
Derek gave her a funny look. “Quit freaking,” he said. “Jonah always turns up.”
“Oh. Right,” Alix said, covering for herself. “Mom’s going to freak, though.”
“That kid would already be feral if it wasn’t for you,” Cynthia said. “Your mom should be grateful.”
Sophie came over, interrupting them. “Are you guys walking home, too?”
“No.” Alix looked at her with surprise. “I’ve got a car.”
“No, you don’t. You’ve got a car behind yellow tape.” Sophie pointed. “The whole parking lot is locked down. They’re sniffing all the cars with dogs.”
“But that’s where they told us to park!” Alix protested.
They hurried over to the lot, and, sure enough, squads of police were going from car to car, running mirrors under all the undercarriages, while German shepherds barked and sniffed and lunged against their leashes.
“How long are they going to be at it?”
“Until they find the people responsible, I guess,” Cynthia said.
“Or all the coke in the school,” Derek suggested.
“Is it even legal to search like that?” Alix wondered.
“Good thing you stopped dealing,” Cynthia cracked.
“Like anyone’s hiding anything in their cars.” Sophie stared up at the blue sky. “It’s too hot to walk.”
Alix watched the search continue from car to car. It looked like the German shepherds had a thing for German automobiles. Every time they came up on an Audi or Mercedes, they went nuts. “This is going to take forever.” She dialed home. Her mom and dad’s phones both went to voice mail.
“No answer?” Derek asked knowingly.