Heroes 'Til Curfew

  And then I felt it, felt a give where it had no right to be.

  The first sob leapt up out of my throat before I could stop it. I clamped my hand over the one behind it, choking on grief and fear.

  “What is it?”

  “I think it’s a skull fracture.”

  “What were you kids doing?!”

  I held up a hand. I couldn’t deal with her; I needed to think. But I couldn’t think. I couldn’t do anything but relive the feeling of softness where there should have been bone and drown in the panic swirling inside me, all around me, dragging me under.

  I was caught in a loop. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.

  I think his mother was still talking at me, but I’d tuned her out. I reached out and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over his face.

  He could die. Don’t let him die.

  I don’t know what to do.

  “Who the hell’s gonna fix this mess?” Dylan’s mother asked. She probably wasn’t even talking to me anymore.

  I can’t fix it. I could have stopped it. If I had been paying attention. If I had never gone into that store. If I hadn’t let him come with me.

  I heard myself, back in the storeroom of Vinyl Salvation, “I can take these guys.” I was so sure that my Talent was—

  “My Talent…”

  “Your Talent? So you’re one of them too.”

  I yanked my phone out of my coat pocket. I was still using the one Eric had given me, and I’d never deleted any of his numbers. I scrolled down to Rob Grayson’s and hit SEND.

  “Eric?” He sounded sleepy. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Joss. Dylan’s hurt. I need you to find a healer Talent for me. His name’s Lakota. His sister—”

  “What happened? Is he okay?”

  “No, he’s not. Listen! I need Lakota. I don’t know his last name. His sister goes to our school. Raine. I think she’s a sophomore.”

  “All right, hold on.” I heard some moving around. “Okay, Joss,” Rob said calmly, soothingly. “I’m doing a search. This isn’t going to take a minute.” I imagined Rob holding his hand out over a computer, a blue glow between his hand and the equipment, the way Dylan had described it to me.

  “Please hurry.”

  “I’ve got it. Raine Jennings, yeah, she’s a sophomore. Want me to cross-check for a brother?”

  “No, that’s gotta be her.”

  “Okay, I’ve got a phone number, got a pen?”

  “Oh God, no, hang on.” I looked around the mess of a room frantically.

  “Okay, Joss? Calm down. I’ll just connect you from here, okay?”

  “You can do that?”

  “It’s all computers now. Take care of Dylan. Hold on.”

  There was a break in the connection, and then another phone was ringing.

  “Hello?”

  “May I speak to Raine, please?”

  “This is Raine, who’s this?”

  “It’s Joss. Joss Marshall. I need your help.”

  “You need my help?” She sounded suspicious. And why not? She didn’t really know me. And I could be anybody. I could totally be setting her and her brother up right now. What if I couldn’t get her to believe me?

  “It’s Dylan. You remember Dylan? From the other night? He’s hurt. It’s…really bad.” And I’m really scared. Please help me. “I can’t take him to the hospital. Look, I know you don’t know me—”

  “Lakota!” she called, away from the phone. “Get your coat. And the spare car keys.” To me she said, in that same calming tone that Rob had used, the one that let me know I sounded hysterical, “Okay, Joss, we’ll come. It’s gonna be okay. Where are you?”

  “Can you even drive?”

  “Joss, we’ve done this before. It’s okay. Where are you?”

  I gave her the address, she said she knew where it was and promised to be over in minutes.

  “When we get there, my brother will fix it, okay? Whatever it is, you just have to keep him breathing until we get there, understand? Don’t let him die.”

  Don’t let him die.

  She hung up.

  I stuffed my phone into my pocket and tried to pull it together. Help was on the way. Lakota was going to fix it. “Two kids are coming over,” I told Dylan’s mother. One of them’s supposed to have a healing Talent—”

  “Supposed to have?”

  “I’ve never seen it. I talked to his older sister, and it seems like they’ve done stuff like this before. I need you to go down and let them in. Get them up here as fast as possible.”

  She shook her head, glaring at me, and ashed in the soda can again. “You’ve got your nerve, don’t you? Ordering me around in my own home. Who do you think you are?”

  “I’m the person who’s trying to help your son.” I said this wonderingly. Why wasn’t she jumping up to do what I’d asked? Didn’t she care? Why was she just sitting there, smoking and looking at us with hard, angry eyes.

  Eyes that were the same blue as Dylan’s, but so completely misused in her face.

  “You’re the one who’s caused us all this trouble. You’re the one who made him get that stupid mini-mart kid job!” She accused me with this sort of triumph, like she had solved a mystery. But I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. “Do you have any idea how much harder it’s been on me?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Dylan used to bring stuff home, when was pulling his own weight around here. Sometimes money. Usually just things he’d picked up. Nice things. And then one day he limps home looking like a car wreck. After that, an after school job with a shitty paycheck. And he tells me if I want stuff, go buy it, but he’s not stealing for me anymore. As if it was all my idea in the first place.”

  It sure sounds like it, you— I just cut myself off in my head, to make sure nothing came out of my mouth. Jesus H. Washington Christ, this was Dylan’s life? I was so angry I couldn’t even trust myself to look at her. I looked inside my head.

  There was a crash in the front room. Dylan’s mother jumped up out her chair, dropping the soda can on the carpet.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “I opened the door for you. Want me to open the one on the street?” My voice was steady and quiet. While I glared at her, I floated the soda can back up and set it on the desk for good measure. “Or will you go down and let our friends in?”

  She had already started to back up out of the room, with her eyes too wide and fixed on me. I felt that same faraway satisfaction I had when Marco had looked at me like that earlier, but the rest of me was as brittle as cracked glass.

  As soon as she was gone, I raced around the bed so I could face Dylan. Parts of his face were gone, clear, like he was fading away. That was just too much. I buried my face in his pillow and started to sob. If only I hadn’t insisted on confronting those idiots at the record store. If only I had kept my mouth shut about going out tonight in the first place. But would he have followed me anyway? I had to get him to stop that, stop being so reckless, stop coming to my rescue.

  All this time I had wanted to be with him so much. And I had never even had a clue. I’d thought I wanted the shoulders, the eyes, the smile, someone nice, someone for whom everything seemed so easy. And then I found out who Dylan really was, and it was so much more than that.

  I can’t lose you now. I just can’t. Please be okay.

  I felt his hand fall heavily on my head, as though the effort to raise it was all he could manage. I wanted to take it. To hold it, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t look at it and see him disappearing. He didn’t say anything, didn’t stroke my hair. All that was beyond him now, and that only made me cry harder.

  That’s how they found us. I didn’t even know we weren’t alone until I felt arms around me, pulling me away from the bed. Raine said, “Move aside, Joss. Let Lakota take care of him now, okay?”

  A chill swept over me as I let her guide me back to the desk chair, my eyes never lea
ving Dylan. I shuddered violently and wrapped my arms around myself.

  Lakota moved slowly across the room, a little boy with a winter jacket thrown over sweats. He had a folded blanket tucked under his arm; it was past his bedtime. He was a beautiful boy, maybe ten years old, with dark brown hair and eyes the same color. His dark eyes were fixed on Dylan with a look of concentration on his face, as though he were already assessing his condition. Something about the look in those eyes made him seem much, much older.

  Raine was bustling around the room. If Lakota looked ready for bed, I didn’t know what the goth girl looked ready for. Even this late she still wore the same kind of costume she wore to school. Blue lipstick, dark stuff around the eyes, and her skin was much paler than her brother’s, especially since she’d dyed her hair pitch black. She shrugged out of her jacket, just let it fall to the floor, like it was in the way and laying it down would be too much bother. She was wearing one of those high-necked frilly white blouses with a leather corset at her waist and those crazy leather gloves that went up to her elbows. If she was really a Talent, she sure didn’t understand about keeping a low profile.

  She took the blanket from Lakota and tossed it down with her jacket. She walked passed me, grabbed a trash can from under the desk and upended the contents onto the floor. One of those gloved hands fell on my shoulder, squeezing.

  “It’s going to be okay, Joss. You need me to get you something? Kleenex?”

  “Yeah, thanks, that’d be great.” Her hand on my shoulder was so cold. Painfully cold. And it shocked some sense into me. Raine wasn’t wearing makeup to make her skin paler and her lips blue. She was just that cold. The rest of it was camouflage.

  Lakota’s hands were moving lightly over Dylan’s head, over the injury. He pressed one palm to Dylan’s forehead, the other to his chest. His back was to me, but I imagined his eyes were closed. Then he rolled Dylan onto his back and sat down on the edge of the bed. I started to get up, but Raine came back in, put some tissues in my hand, and gave me a look that pinned me to the chair as she went to her knees beside the bed.

  Again Lakota put his palms to Dylan’s forehead and chest, and this time I could see his closed eyes, the hard set of his mouth, the concentration. His hands actually glowed for moment, a soft yellow that went as quickly as it appeared.

  Lakota slid from the bed to the floor. Raine reached out an arm to keep him from falling over sideways, but he righted himself and she didn’t touch him. She shoved the trash can in front of his face just before he started to retch. When he seemed finished, she handed him a damp cloth she must have gotten during the Kleenex run.

  The boy leaned against the side of the bed and wiped his face, looking pale and sick. On the bed, I could see Dylan was breathing, and all of him was visible again. He seemed to be just sleeping.

  Raine crossed in front of me with the trash can, but set it down to snatch up the blanket and throw it over her brother’s shoulders before leaving the room with it. Lakota clutched the blanket around him and shivered once. Just a little. His eyes were still closed.

  I heard the toilet flush and water running in the bathroom and then Raine came back and sat on the floor next to her brother, but not too close. I wanted to ask about Dylan, even about Lakota, but instead “I’m sorry about Kenny,” is what came out of my mouth.

  Raine looked up quickly, surprised, and didn’t say anything.

  “I guess you guys were pretty good friends,” I said stupidly.

  “Me and Kenny? No, not really. I mean, we hang in the same group, spent a lot of time together, but…no, not really. Mostly he made me nervous. I mean, there are some people I kind of suspect of having a Talent, you know? Because some things aren’t easy to hide, or sometimes people just slip. I always thought Kenny would get picked up someday because he was just one of those people who had to talk about it, you know? Had to show it off every once in a while.” She looked at me, considering. “You’ve been thinking maybe it was your fault, because of the fire thing. It wasn’t. We all had to hear about that as soon as you left. Who knows how many other people had to hear about it. Tim came down on him, though, told him to keep all your names out of it if he had to go shooting his mouth off. Hope he did. But he was just like that, you know? We all knew he’d get himself into trouble and just hoped he didn’t take us down with him.”

  “So why’d you hang out with him?”

  She shrugged. “You gotta have friends, right?”

  Before I could think that through, Lakota cut in, his voice a little hoarse. “It’s because she likes one of the Kenny’s friends.”

  Raine turned to her brother with a narrow-eyed glare. She puckered up and blew softly at his head. A thin layer of frost formed on his hair which he rubbed off with his hand.

  I shook my head, not really wanting to take that in. “Are you okay?” I asked him. “Did it—?”

  He smiled up at me. That same cute boy charming kind of smile that Dylan has. Color was already coming back to his cheeks. “Did it work? Of course it did!” He seemed to be laughing at me, without actually laughing. “It always works.”

  “I…don’t,” I had to stop and swallow. I was scared to actually believe him. “I don’t even know how to thank you.”

  “Thank me for bringing him by not giving him a bigger, swelled up head than he already has,” Raine said dryly. She stood and swiped her jacket up off the floor. “Ready to go?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Lakota pulled himself to his feet.

  “I gotta get this kid and the car home before our parents get back. They frown on the unlicensed driving.”

  “But I have a calling!” Lakota said, throwing up his arms in a triumphant gesture that looked more wrestling champ than altruist. Raine picked up the blanket as it fell and threw it over his head.

  “See you at school, Joss.”

  “I—yeah, um, thank you.”

  “He’s gonna sleep a while. Hard. But he’s okay now,” Raine told me, in that voice of talking to an idiot, which was pretty much how I was acting. “We promise, right?”

  “Yeah. He’s all fixed,” Lakota agreed. “But don’t hit him like that again, Joss. Damn, girls are so mean.”

  “I didn’t—”

  But they were already out the door and laughing over the joke.

  I sat on the side of the bed, trying not to start crying again, and stroked the backs of my fingers along Dylan’s cheek. He smiled and caught my hand, opened his eyes for just a moment. “Hey,” he slurred.

  “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

  “Not the boss of me, Marshall. Stay a while, okay?” I realized he was pretty much asleep already. He turned onto his side again, keeping hold of my hand and pulling it into his chest. “Need you to stay.”

  Well hey, even a mean girl like me can’t say no to that. I thought about taking my hand back to get my boots off, but I kinda figured Dylan’s bed had seen boots before, and I wasn’t staying long anyways. I curled up beside him, tucking my cheek against our joined hands, and trying to let the horror of the evening slide back a bit.

  The bed was soft. Dylan was warm and alive beside me. This was the only place I wanted to be.

  “Crazy,” he muttered softly, “how much I need you.”

  Crazy, how something like that can feel like a kick in the chest, can hurt that much, can suck all the air right out of your body for a moment. And at the same time, settle over you, around you, so soft and warm and sweet, that you think nothing can ever be as good as this one moment.

  Crazy.

  That I can love you.

  This much.

  * * *

  Joss

  The morning was bitter cold. Or maybe it just seemed that way because all the warmth I was carrying from my snuggle with Dylan fled the moment I stepped out into the dark.

  There, I said it. I accepted my identity as a girl who snuggles. No wonder they call this the walk of shame.

  Oh, yeah, and let’s not forget the chilling gaze of Mama Maxwe
ll, whose butt was still parked in front of the flat screen when I’d walked through the living room. She never went to bed last night. Not, I’m sure, because she was just oh-so-full of motherly concern for her son. Probably more like she was scared of having his super-freak girlfriend under the same roof.

  I twitched my shoulders under my jacket, like I could shrug that off. Hating that witch was making me a little warmer, but I really needed to stop reveling in the idea of people being afraid of me. It wasn’t good and it wasn’t right. That’s how Marcos are made.

  I turned down my street. There were a few lights on at my house, which was normal this time of morning, but it wasn’t like every light in the place was on. Surely if they realized I’d been out all night, it would be one of those every light in the house on things, right? I’d seen that on TV. Ugh. I couldn’t believe I let myself fall asleep. But here I was, almost home, still undetected, about to sneak in after being out all night, after not getting caught by the cops, after not getting killed by Marco, again, after getting saved by Talent intervention…

  Oh yeah, overall, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself.

  And then Dad’s car passed me. Very slowly. And pulled into the driveway just ahead of me.

  Jinx.

  And other assorted expletives.

  I didn’t pause, I just straightened up and kept walking, like I had every right in the world to be walking down my street at this hour of morning. Dad got out of the car and shut the door. Then he took on the Dad Stance, the one with the feet apart and the arms crossed over the chest. He paired that with the Dad Look for maximum effect.

  Oh and trust me, the effect was maximum.

  But no way was I gonna let him know that. Show No Weakness. I kept walking steadily, hands in pockets, maintaining eye contact and what I hoped was a bland expression.