The Paladin Prophecy

A MISUNDERSTANDING

Will waited for the rest of the team to leave before he showered and changed. He found a first-aid kit in his locker and cleaned the spike wounds on his left calf. A quiet pride filled him like he’d never felt before. He’d called his shot in front of their stone-faced coach, handled everything Todd Hodak and company had thrown at him on their home turf, and delivered.

It was four-thirty and nearly dark by the time the roommates made it back to the pod. Nick limped in moaning about his legs, then flopped onto a sofa and instantly fell asleep. No one else had come in yet. Will locked himself in his room, then fired up his tablet and checked his email. Nothing. He pulled the cell phone out from the mattress and took it into the bathroom.

Three calls in the message log from Nando. All in the last two hours. Two click-offs, one voice mail: “Will, where you at, man? Breaking news. Gimme a shout.”

Will punched the RETURN CALL button. Nando picked up after the second ring.

“Hey, Nando, where are you?”

“On the road. Hectic day. Followed those sedans last night all the way to LA. The Caps checked into a hotel near UCLA, so I crashed at my cousin’s.”

“You haven’t even been home?”

“I tole you, man, I’m like a dog with a bone. Greased one of the valets so he tipped me when the Caps called for their rides. Seven a.m.: All three sedans drove to the Federal Building, holmes. On Wilshire in Westwood. Took the ramp into the private parking garage.”

The Federal Building … Will’s mind leaped to something Robbins had told him: They’re a nonprofit company that receives government funding.

“Check the lobby directory,” said Will. “See if there’s an office for a company called the National Scholastic Evaluation Agency.”

Nando paused, writing it down. “Getting right back to you on that, boss.”

Nando ended the call. Will punched up the number for the air charter company at the Oxnard Airport and hit REDIAL. The same young woman quickly answered.

“This is Deputy Sheriff Johnson,” said Will. “We spoke yesterday about the Bombardier Challenger your company chartered to Mr. Jordan West?”

“Yes, sir, I remember.”

“They were scheduled to fly into Phoenix. Have they returned yet?”

She hesitated slightly. “No, sir.”

“Can you confirm for me that they did, in fact, land in Phoenix?”

“Yes. As scheduled, yesterday evening.”

And with any luck they spent the rest of the night running around Phoenix looking for me at bus stations and youth centers.

“Have you heard anything from them since then?”

“No. The plane took off from Phoenix about two hours ago, but we don’t know where they’re headed.”

“So they’re not on their way back to Oxnard?” asked Will.

“No, sir. We don’t know where they are.”

“Well, didn’t your pilot file a flight plan?” he snapped.

“We haven’t been contacted by the pilot, sir.”

“What about Phoenix air control—shouldn’t they have a destination?”

“We’re trying to obtain that information,” she said.

The woman put her hand over the mouthpiece and spoke to someone, then came back to ask, “What do you need to speak to Mr. West about?”

Will tried to sound calm and in control. “That’s confidential.”

She paused again. “Would you hold a moment?”

A male voice Will hadn’t heard before came on, authoritative, no-nonsense. “This is Inspector Nelson with the Federal Aviation Administration,” the man said. “Who am I speaking to?”

Will ended the call abruptly.

Federal Aviation Administration? What the hell? What got the FAA into this? Wait: These days if you rent a private jet and don’t bring it back, wouldn’t that automatically attract their interest? Not to mention Homeland Security.

He didn’t know how he felt about that, but the whole last few hours weighed on him heavily as he walked back into the bedroom.

Dave was sitting at his desk holding the glass cube, looking at the black “dice” swimming lazily inside, suspended in a weightless vacuum.

“Cheers, mate,” said Dave with a grin. “You look surprised to see me.”

“I’m funny that way; it startles me when you keep breaking the laws of physical science.”

“Wanted to make sure you’d recovered from our expedition—”

“Why didn’t you warn me that thing would be down there?”

“Didn’t know myself. I just wanted you to see the Weasel Hole.” Dave held up the cube. Strange symbols and glyphs appeared inside it, followed by a projected image of the monster they’d just seen. “That was a lamia, by the way. Part female, part snake, part spider, and smokin’ ponies, can those things make a mess.”

“Is it still after me?” said Will, his eyes wide.

“Naw, mate, I turned its lights out after you shook a leg, no worries.”

“But did the Caps send it after me, specifically, like the other ones?”

“I don’t think so,” said Dave. “Just bad timing is all, and I blame myself for that.”

Will felt a thump in his chest. “Listen, what I’m asking is, does this mean the Caps know I’m here at the school?”

“Put it this way, the lamia didn’t have time to tell anybody. Depends on who else saw you. Did you get a good look at who summoned it?”

“No, but I have a few ideas,” said Will, pacing. “But even if they weren’t targeting me, I’m assuming this means there’s some connection between the Black Caps and whoever they were. Am I right?”

“So it seems,” said Dave gravely.

“So we have to find out, for certain, who was down there.” Will sat on the bed, took out the dark glasses, and twirled them around, thinking it through. “This Weasel Hole, that portal or window, that’s how these things come across from the Never-Was.”

“Right,” said Dave. “Here’s how it works.”

He held up the cube: The dice stopped moving and unleashed a powerful burst of light. Out of its brightness, a striking visual projected onto the wall, of cows grazing in a sunny meadow. In a corner, a milky window like the one Will had seen in the locker room burned in, like someone cutting a hole through a wall. Once the circle was completed, shapes pushed at it from the other side until the skin burst open, unleashing a cascade of invisible force that bent the air.

Will put the dark glasses on and saw a roiling mass of hideous black slugs pouring across the meadow. They swarmed over the cows, consuming them, reducing them in seconds to bony carcasses.

Horrified, Will took off the glasses. The image disappeared. “Why can’t I see these things without the glasses?”

“Electromagnetic frequency issue,” said Dave. “Takes a while for ’em to enter our visual spectrum once they cross over. The lenses compensate. We don’t usually hand ’em out, but you need a sniff of what you’re up against.”

“Of what I’m up against?”

“Bringing you up to speed at the right pace is my goal at this stage of the game. I’ve seen strong men collapse under the strain, but you’re doing a bang-up job.”

Will took a deep breath. “Can they come across on their own?”

“Starve the bloody lizards, there’s a heart-stopper. If the Fuzzy-Wuzzies could carve open a weasel hole by themselves from their side of the membrane? We’d be hip-deep in creepers by now.”

“Did you just call them Fuzzy-Wuzzies?”

“Not a technical term, more of a nickname.”

Will swallowed hard. “So this is how they brought over that … thing they used on my mom.”

“The Ride Along. One of the nastiest buggers in their playbook.”

“Show it to me,” said Will.

Dave raised the cube and another image projected on the wall: a vile tube-shaped “bug.”

“A small but vicious infestation unit,” said Dave. “It loads into a mechanical tracker that carries it to the target, where it deploys and attaches like a parasite on the back of the neck. They’re usually mistaken for an insect bite.”

Will remembered the red mark he’d seen on Belinda’s neck in the kitchen back home. His skin started crawling.

“It drills in and hatches into the bloodstream. Its spawn infiltrates the nervous system, spreads up to the brain, and starts to influence behavior.”

The image illustrated the infestation Dave described, as the implanted bug attacked a generic three-dimensional human “model.”

“You’re saying … this thing can take over a person’s mind?” asked Will.

“That’s right. The part we don’t understand yet is that it seems to work on more than just people. They can latch on to anything—animals, plants, even inanimate objects. Some of which, under laboratory conditions, have become … animated.”

“Can you get rid of them? Do the victims survive?”

“Not that we know of,” said Dave gently. “I’m sorry, mate.”

There was a loud knock at the door.

“Keep your voice down,” whispered Will.

“I told you they can’t hear me—”

“Just a second!” said Will. He opened the door to the closet. “Then would you mind stepping in here?”

“Not necessary.”

“They can’t see you either?”

Dave smiled. “Not unless we want them to.”

There was another even more urgent knock on the door. When Dave turned to it, Will noticed the back of his jacket again.

“By the way,” said Will, lowering his voice, “I know what ANZAC is.”

“Good on ya, mate. And what’s that got to do with the price of pancakes?”

“It’s on the back of your jacket? Hello?”

“So it is. I’d be well advised to never underestimate your powers of observation.”

Dave extended a finger and tipped over the open bottle of water on Will’s desk. It hit the ground and began pouring out onto the floorboards. Will rolled his eyes in annoyance, unlocked the door, and opened it a crack.

Brooke. Still wearing her coat and scarf, a little out of breath. Tiny beads of sweat dotted her freckled nose and forehead. She had an urgent look in her eyes.

“Sorry, can I come in?” she asked.

“Sure. Just pay no attention to … oh, never mind.”

Brooke slipped inside. Will closed the door. She clearly didn’t see Dave, who perked up in his chair as soon as Brooke breezed in. In fact, Dave wolf-whistled.

“Sweet raspberry tea cakes,” said Dave appreciatively.

“Shut up,” said Will.

“What?” said Brooke, turning to him.

“Nothing. I said, ‘What up?’ ”

“Will, listen, I came in downstairs just now and the door was open to Lyle’s office, and I saw Todd in there talking to Lyle. In a very intense way that I can only describe as conspiratorial.”

“What a stunner,” said Dave. “She is a serious beauty, mate.”

“Todd and Lyle,” said Will, shooting an angry look at Dave behind Brooke’s back and drawing a finger across his lips: Zip it.

“That’s right, and then I got up here and Nick just told me about what happened with you and Todd at practice today—”

“All in good fun—”

“No, Will, you don’t understand: If you made a mess in his sandbox, Todd is coming after you. The shortest distance possible, point A to point B—”

“What is this guy’s problem?”

“The problem is that Todd has no fuse. When he gets angry, he just detonates, without warning, and you need to get out of his way.”

“And he needs to leave you alone,” said Will.

“That’s the spirit, kid,” said Dave.

“We’re not talking about me,” said Brooke. “I’m talking about you. They’re probably on their way up here right now.”

“So?”

“So haven’t you read the Code of Conduct? Do you want to hand them a reason to kick you out of school?”

“What reason?”

Brooke’s eyes went wide with alarm: “Your cell phone?!”

“Oh, right.” Will took it out and held it up to her. “Here, you take it.”

“No! Will, they can search the whole pod if they don’t find anything in here—”

“Better listen to her, mate,” said Dave.

“Lyle has the authority to do that?” asked Will.

“Yes, and you’d know that if you’d read the manual. Why is there water all over your floor? Get a towel—”

The front bell to the pod rang repeatedly.

“They’re here,” she said. “I’ll try to stall them. Toss that phone out the window. Lock the door after me. Now.”

She rushed out of the room. Will closed and locked the door. He looked at the phone in his hand, then looked at Dave, who hadn’t budged from his seat at the desk. He didn’t look particularly concerned.

“I really need to hang on to this,” said Will.

“Roger that. Better find a place to stash it, then,” said Dave.

Dave rocked back and tapped his boot on the floor. Will was surprised to see that nearly all the spilled water had disappeared. He dropped to his hands and knees for a closer look and realized the remaining water was draining into a nearly invisible crack between floorboards under the rear left leg of the desk.

He heard raised voices in the great room: Brooke, possibly Nick. Definitely Lyle and Todd. They were already inside.

Will shifted the desk a few inches over, then knelt down and felt around the edges of the crack, digging in with his fingernails. He grabbed hold and pulled; the board shifted slightly upward but wouldn’t give any farther.

He retrieved his Swiss Army knife, opened the thinnest blade, and wedged it between the boards. He levered the loose board up a fraction of an inch until he could grab hold, then yanked it out, a three-by-six-inch chunk of wood, clean edges, finely cut. Seamless. Undetectable to the naked eye.

“Nice craftsmanship there,” said Dave, leaning in for a look.

Below the gap in the floor was a hole a foot deep and half a foot wide.

There was a pounding knock on his door.

“Open up, Mr. West! Right this minute!”

Lyle Ogilvy.

Will set the cell phone and charger in the hole, then replaced the loose board and wedged the heavy desk back on top of it. “Feel free to pitch in anytime,” whispered Will to Dave. “You’re doing aces, mate.”

“I have a master key with me,” said Lyle. “And I’m going to use it as soon as I count to—”

Will unlocked and opened his door. “Ten?” asked Will.

Lyle stared down at him, livid with anger. Todd stood behind Lyle, glaring, hands on his hips, flanked by the two lugs from the running team who’d tried to take him out on Suicide Hill. Both had multiple cuts and scrapes on their faces from the spill they’d taken. Behind them in the great room were Brooke and Nick, who was cool and unconcerned, tossing another log onto the fire.

“You can count that high,” said Will. “Can’t you, Lyle?”

Lyle held a copy of the Code of Conduct in front of Will’s face and thumped it for emphasis: “Page five, section seven of the Code of Conduct,” said Lyle. “Suspected possession of contraband objects or materials is grounds for immediate search of said student’s entire residential area.” He turned to Brooke and Nick. “You two open your doors, sit down, and do not move until I tell you to.”

They did as they were told. Lyle lowered his shoulder and brushed past Will into his bedroom. Todd and his posse swept in after him, Todd pausing long enough to eyeball Will with a sneer. Dave had moved from the desk; he leaned on the edge of the bay window, watching calmly. None of the newcomers noticed him.

Just then Ajay came in the front door. He stopped when he saw Will in his room. Will caught his eye, mimed holding a phone, and slowly mouthed, “Call Mr. McBride.”

Ajay nodded, backtracked out, and silently closed the door behind him. Will turned to Lyle and the others, who had begun methodically tearing apart his room. Todd rifled through his desk, while the other two checked the bathroom and closet. Lyle flipped over the mattress, feeling for sinister lumps in the bedsprings.

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