“Yeah?” Tony reached into the truck cab and pulled out a revolver. “Well, laugh at this!”
He began firing wildly. One of the slugs zipped through the brush between Jack and Saree, narrowly missing them. Jack froze in terrified shock while Saree let out a shrill yelp of surprise.
“There!” Sammy shouted, pointing their way.
Levi yanked on Jack’s arm. “Run!”
Jack didn’t need to be told twice—or even once. The next half minute became a riot of crouched running, snapping brush and branches, darkness ahead, shouting behind, and then a high-pitched scream that brought everything to an abrupt, panting halt.
“Saree?” Levi said, looking back. “I thought she was—aw, man, they got Saree!” He turned to Jack. “Go with El for help!”
“You’re staying?”
He nodded. “Can’t leave her.”
Jack wavered. Why had he come here? He wanted to be home. Then Saree screamed again.
“I’ll stay with you.”
“No way. You go—”
“El doesn’t need help. Saree does.”
El was already at the car, starting it up. He wasn’t waiting. That settled it.
“I don’t get it,” Levi said as he turned and started back toward the cripple.
“What’s there to get?”
“You don’t owe her. She’s not kin.”
Jack couldn’t see what that had to do with anything. He wished he’d stayed in bed, but he was here now.
“We came together, we leave together.”
Levi didn’t reply. They were almost back to the cripple.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” a voice was singsonging. “We got your ugly girlfriend.”
Jack peeked through the brush. The moonlight and backwash from the headlights revealed Tony standing on the rim of the cripple by the rear of the truck. He had his gun in one hand and a fistful of Saree’s hair in the other. She looked terrified.
Sammy, standing a few feet to his right, shouted, “The rest of you get out here now. We ain’t gonna hurt you. Just put you to work. You got us into this mess, so you’re gonna get us out.”
Jack saw three options. Help was on the way, so until it arrived they either could do nothing, find ways to distract them, or show themselves and do whatever they wanted.
“Get out here or this could get ugly,” Tony said, twisting Saree’s hair and making her wince. “You don’t wanna see how ugly.”
Jack winced, too, and crossed doing nothing off the list. He decided on distraction. He could always show himself if that didn’t work.
“Stay here,” he whispered. “Gonna try something.”
“Wait—” Levi grabbed for his arm but Jack pulled out of reach.
He moved counterclockwise along the tree line, feeling around the ground until he found a fist-size hunk of shale.
Perfect.
He backed up, cocked his arm, and let fly toward the truck. The rock bounced off the tarp with a gonging sound, then splashed in the water.
“Son of a bitch!” Sammy yelled, flinching.
“You guys deaf?” Tony shouted. “Remember what I said about things getting ugly?”
Oh no. Jack’s gut knotted as he saw Tony yank Saree backward. She lost her balance and fell into the water. Tony stayed with her and held her head under the surface as her arms and legs thrashed and splashed. It was only a couple of feet deep, but plenty enough to drown her.
“She stays under till you come out!” Tony yelled.
Jack couldn’t take it. Only option three remained.
“Okay! Okay!”
His bladder ached to empty as he jumped out of the bushes with his hands raised.
To his left Levi also stepped out, hands high, saying, “Let her up!”
As Sammy started toward them, Tony pointed the gun their way and grinned. “When I’m damn good and ready. You kids—aah!” He dropped the gun and released Saree as he grabbed his right hand with his left. “She broke my finger!”
Saree sat up, choking and gasping and crying. Jack had seen one of her thrashing arms come near Tony’s hand, but no way it touched him. She lurched to her feet and staggered away toward dry ground.
Tony started after her. “You little—my gun!” He turned and bent, feeling around underwater.
As Sammy turned to look at his buddy, Jack took off toward Saree. He grabbed her outreached hand and pulled her up the bank of the cripple.
Sammy started toward them. “Hey—!”
Suddenly he tripped and fell face-first into the water. But instead of rebounding to his feet, he stayed down and began kicking and thrashing as Saree had. He couldn’t seem to get up.
Tony finally noticed. “What the hell are you doing?”
He started toward Sammy but tripped himself. He went down and stayed down, too. Were they stuck in the mud? No, their arms and legs were free. It almost looked like they were being held down. But—
Jack saw Levi on his knees, white-faced, eyes focused on the men in the cripple. As Jack headed for him, Saree grabbed his arm.
“Leave Levi be.”
Jack pulled free. As he neared he could see the boy’s lips pulled back in a snarl. His face and hair dripped sweat, his shirt was soaked, and air hissed between his clenched teeth like he was bench-pressing twice his own weight.
“Levi . . .?”
He glanced at Jack and just then the two men in the cripple got their heads back above water. But not for long. Before they could draw a full breath, they plunged their faces back beneath the surface.
And then everything seemed to happen at once. Elvin roared out of the trees in the buggy followed by a pickup full of rough-clothed men with shotguns. Levi let out a breath and slumped forward onto his hands; the two men in the cripple got their heads out of water and sucked air.
When they caught their breath and looked around, they found themselves staring into the headlights of the buggy and the pickup, and down the muzzles of half a dozen shotguns. One of the Piney men, tall with a gray beard and features that looked like they’d been taken apart and put back together wrong, had lifted the tarp and was looking at the barrels hidden beneath.
“Not good,” he said, shaking his head. “Not good ay-tall.”
“You don’t wanna mess with us,” Tony said, still panting. “We’re connected, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m right sure of that,” the old Piney said. “And we’ll want to know who to.” He swiveled and his gaze fell on Jack. “Who’s this ’un?”
“Friend of ours,” Levi said, rising to his feet. He’d caught his breath. “He set the trap.”
“Well, we’re right grateful for that, but he ain’t one of us. Take him back wherever he came from.”
“What about them?” Jack said, pointing to Tony and Sammy.
“You forget about them. We’re all gonna have us a nice chat, then we’ll send ’em home.”
“But—”
Levi grabbed his arm and pulled him away. “No questions. Let’s go.”
El and Saree were already in the buggy. As soon as Jack and Levi settled on the rear couch, El put it in gear and they roared off.
“What happened back there?” Jack said.
He was feeling weak and shaky. That guy had almost drowned Saree, and he’d never been shot at before—never dreamed it would ever happen and never wanted it to happen again. Ever.
Levi shook his head. “Nothing. And don’t go yakking about it.”
“You kidding? Tell my folks I snuck out tonight to see some toxic dumpers we trapped and wound up getting shot at? Yeah, right. Soon as I get home I’m gonna run into their bedroom and blab all about it.”
Levi laughed. “Okay.”
Of course he’d tell Weezy. She’d eat it up.
But he hadn’t been talking about the dumpers.
“I meant you. What did you do to those guys?”
The smiled vanished. “Nothing.”
“But I saw—”
 
; Levi stared straight ahead. “You saw a couple of guys slipping around on a mucky cripple bottom and getting stuck. That’s all.”
Jack was sure it had been more than that. But what exactly?
Saree turned to face him. “Yeah, that’s all it was, Jack. But what about you? What’s your talent? Is it being able to hide? Is that why I can’t see you?”
What was she talking about?
“I don’t have any talent.”
“Maybe you just don’t know about it yet. You’re hiding something, but that’s okay. You came back for me. I never expected that. I still can’t see you, but I like you.”
Jack had no idea how to respond to that, so he didn’t.
They dropped him off about a block from his house. As they raced off he saw their bumper sticker flash in the moonlight.
PINEY POWER.
He had an idea why those kids liked the sound of it.
▼FOUR▼
I can’t believe all that happened without me,” Weezy said as they entered Jack’s house through the kitchen.
He’d waited till after school to tell her about it.
“Believe me, you were better off at home.” He shuddered at a vision of that Tony guy holding Weezy’s head underwater instead of Saree’s. “While it was happening, I wanted to be anywhere but there.”
As they stepped into the front room where his folks were watching the six-thirty news, a TV reporter said, “The two bodies found inside those barrels of toxic waste have been identified.”
Jack stiffened as he recognized the mug shots on the screen.
“Anthony Lapomarda and Santo ‘Sammy’ Carlopoli have long rap sheets. Their bodies were found outside a South Philly body shop this morning along with two dozen barrels of toxic waste. More waste was found inside the body shop, along with a number of stolen cars. The suspected chop shop—”
He nudged Weezy and whispered, “That’s them!”
The old Piney’s parting words came back: We’re all gonna have us a nice chat, then we’ll send ’em home.
He hadn’t mentioned how they’d be sent home. Jack glanced at Weezy and found her staring back with wide, dark eyes.
“Piney justice,” he said, feeling a chill.
His father looked up. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Dad pointed to the TV. “That’s why we live out here. To get away from scum like that. You don’t have to worry about running into any of their sort in these parts.”
“I guess not, Dad.”
At least not anymore.
THE NIGHT HUNTER
▼ MEG CABOT ▼
Overton’s was the only place that was hiring the day Nina found out her mother had lost her college fund. But, if she wanted anything more than a secondary education, she had to go looking for a part-time job.
So Overton’s it was, even though ordinarily, Nina wouldn’t have been caught dead in a preppy store like that.
Which is why Nina was stuck working at the mall that Friday night with Angela Overton. Who was, as usual, trying to get Nina to tell her where all the major parties were that weekend.
“I heard Lauren van der Waals’s parents are going to Boston for the weekend,” Angie was saying as she hogged the only stool behind the register. “Misty Johnson and Feather Haynes were talking about it in the ladies’.”
There’d been a big sale at Overton’s, and Nina was tired from the rush of customers. Her feet hurt. She wouldn’t have minded a turn on the stool.
But Angela’s parents owned Overton’s, and if Nina didn’t want Angela to complain to her mother about her, there wasn’t much she could say in protest. She didn’t think Mrs. Overton would fire her—Nina was one of Overton’s best employees—but Mrs. Overton might reassign one of her valuable weekend shifts. Nina couldn’t afford to lose either of those. Saturday and Sunday were the only eight-hour shifts she could take, because of school.
Nina told herself she didn’t care too much about not getting to sit down. She’d kept her mind off her sore feet by calling the mall radio station approximately every fifteen minutes and asking them to play her favorite song, “The Night Hunter.” Jerry, who was on duty at the sound desk, kept saying, “No problem.”
But he never played it. Nina hadn’t really expected him to, since “The Night Hunter” wasn’t exactly the kind of song the Calder Mall played over its sound system. Still, it was a local favorite. Everyone in Eastport loved hearing stories about the Night Hunter—whether they were true or not ( . . . and Nina suspected the Eastport Police Department wished they weren’t)—Everyone was just as wild as she was about the song local band Witch Hunt had written about him.
Nina’s calling Jerry every quarter of an hour also served as a way to interrupt Angela as she droned on about Lauren van der Waals’s party.
“Huh,” Nina said now, in response to Angela.
“You and Lauren are tight, right, Nina?” Angela asked. “You must be going to her party. It’s tomorrow night. I heard Ryan Calder might be going. You know him, right? Or you’ve at least heard of him. Everybody’s heard of him. He’s so rich . . . and hot. And I heard Lauren say he’d be dropping by. I’ve just got to meet him. . . .”
“Uh-huh,” Nina said. Sometimes she said “uh-huh” to Angie, instead of “huh,” to vary her responses. The only reason she bothered responding at all was that Angela’s mother was Nina’s boss. Nina thought Angela was spoiled beyond belief. Look at the thing with the stool. Angela hadn’t once offered to let Nina sit on it. In four hours. “Hang on a minute.”
Nina picked up the phone and dialed the number for the Calder Mall radio station. When Jerry at the desk picked up, she said, “Hey, it’s Nina at Overton’s again. When are you guys going to play ‘The Night Hunter’ by Witch Hunt?”
“It’s next up on the rotation,” Jerry lied. They both knew it was a lie, but Nina said, “Oh, great, thanks, Jerry,” and hung up.
“I mean, it’s not that I want to meet him for his money or anything,” Angela went on. “I know his family built this mall and, well, everything in Eastport, practically. It’s just . . . he’s so cute! Those blue eyes! And I feel so sorry for him, with his parents getting killed last year. I know I could make him feel better.”
I bet you think you could, Nina thought. And it has way more to do with his bank account than those blue eyes of his.
Not that Nina knew Ryan Calder that well, either. She’d seen him at a few parties, but had felt weird about approaching him because he’d always been surrounded by girls just like Angie, trying to get into his . . . wallet.
But she knew she’d recognize those piercing eyes of his anywhere—especially since she’d seen them so many times, staring up at her from the pages of the Eastport News. There were always photos of him showing up, cutting the ribbon to a new hospital wing paid for by the foundation he’d started in his parents’ memory.
“Look,” Angie was saying. “I could give you a lift tomorrow night. To Lauren’s. If you want.”
“Can’t,” Nina said. “I’m working here tomorrow night.”
“I know,” Angie said. “I meant after work. I’ll pick you up and take you to the party.”
“I don’t know, Ange,” Nina said idly, leaning on the counter and gazing out of the store, across the atrium, where the mall’s waterfall cascaded down from the second floor in front of the glass elevators. Mothers with young children, tired of pushing strollers, often sat there to rest, giving their toddlers pennies to throw into the pool. Across the pool, Eastport Bank was beginning to shut down for the night. Nina watched as the tellers put their CLOSED signs up at their booths. “Your mom’s got me on the schedule to do inventory all day. I don’t know if I’ll feel much like going to a party. I’ll probably be pretty tired.” Nina didn’t know why she was giving Angela such a hard time.
Maybe it was because Angela hadn’t given her a turn on the stool all night.
“Please?” Angela looked desperate. “Look, I’m not invited to Lauren’s par
ty. You are. If you go with me tomorrow night, I’ll give you a ride home tonight, too. Then you won’t have to take the bus home. You know how unsafe it is, waiting all alone at that bus stop here, after all the stores close and everyone goes home.”
Nina did know. That’s why she’d been thinking that what she needed was a boyfriend. A boyfriend with a car, who could pick her up after work. It was no use saving up to buy her own car. Thanks to her mom, she needed to save every penny for tuition in the fall.
But a boyfriend . . . that was doable. As she watched Rick, the security guard, begin to pull down the gates in front of the bank, she went over in her head the various boys she knew. Were any of them really boyfriend material? Not so much . . . Nina had her schoolwork to worry about, after all, and this job. She didn’t have time to cater to the whims of some guy. Especially some spoiled rich guy like Ryan Calder.
Unless, of course, she ended up with a guy like . . . well, the Night Hunter.
But of course, that was ridiculous. The Night Hunter didn’t have a girlfriend. How did the song go? He rides alone/Just a rolling stone. . . .
Yeah, and rolling stones didn’t hang out with high school girls. Even seniors who were only a few credits away from graduating.
But if he’d really saved all those people from those violent criminals, just by showing up at the right time and looking intimidating . . .
“Just say you’ll come with me,” Angela said, breaking in on Nina’s thoughts. “I’ll get to the party, and you’ll get home safe. I’ll feel a lot less guilty about leaving you waiting at that dark bus stop.”
Nina thought that if Angela were really as nice as she pretended to be, she’d just give her a ride home without making her promise to escort her to Lauren’s party first. Nina’s house was actually on the way to Angela’s, so it wasn’t like it would be any trouble.
But she supposed this was how rich people got that way—never giving away anything for free. The Over-tons were among the richest families in Eastport—rumored to be second wealthiest only to Ryan Calder, sole heir to the Calder family fortune now that his parents had been killed in that horrible burglary-gone-awry last year. Yet Nina had noticed Angela was almost always first in line whenever any other store in the mall was having a free giveaway of anything.