The Paladin Prophecy

#77: THE SWISS ARMY DOESN’T AMOUNT TO MUCH, BUT NEVER LEAVE HOME WITHOUT THEIR KNIFE.

He added the worn notebook with the black marbled cover; over the years, he’d collected Dad’s rules in it. He pulled Lillian Robbins’s business card from the school packet, memorized her number, then stuck it into his wallet. He stuffed the packet into the bag with his wallet and passport, and zipped it shut.

Will crouched by the front window as Dad’s battered Volvo station wagon rolled to a stop in front of their house. The passenger and back doors opened, and three men wearing black caps exited. The driver’s side door opened, and Jordan West stepped out. The Black Caps surrounded him as he looked up at the house.

Is that really Dad, Will thought, or does he have a scar on his neck like Mom?

As Will watched, one of the men brought out a steel carbon-fiber canister the size of a thermos, just like the one Will had seen that morning in the window of the black sedan. Another shoved Jordan toward the house. Jordan turned and pushed the man away, and that’s when Will knew in his heart that the man he was looking at was still his father: He’s only cooperating because they told him I’m here. Whatever they did to Mom, they haven’t done it to him yet.

Will took five seconds to look around his room. At every possession he’d cherished enough to keep through fifteen years of life with his parents.

Remember what Dad said: “I’ll come for you.”

Will had to believe that now. He stepped silently to the broken window. As he heard the front door open below, Will slung the duffel over his shoulder and climbed onto the roof.

“Do whatever you need to do to stay alive.”

Will swung over the edge of the roof and lowered himself, hanging on to a downspout. Keeping away from the windows, he dropped silently to the ground. He figured he had three minutes, at most, before the strangers made their way upstairs and forced open his bedroom door.

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