Flying (27 page)

“Who is it?”

“It says it's my mom's cell.”

“I thought
you
had your mom's cell.”

“I gave it to Lyle.”

She makes a face. “You should probably answer it.”

“I know.”

It stops ringing.

Seppie groans. “Mana…”

“If I talk to him, I'll end up telling him what we're doing. I don't want him hurt.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Honey, I know a lot of things you think I don't know, actually.”

“Oh, really? Like what?”

“Like Lyle likes you.”

The phone rings again. Same ringtone. Same number.

I admit, smiling, “He does not … but we kissed.”

She screams and slaps my thigh. “Shut up! Was it good?”

All I can do is nod super emphatically.

“Holy … wow. Answer the phone.”

Lyle's voice cracks when he speaks. “Mana?”

“Hey, Lyle…” I pick at my jeans. There is a hole in one of the knees. I must have done it when I fell earlier. I didn't even notice until now.

“Are you okay? We found my mom in here. She's pretty messed up. She won't tell us anything. Somebody duct taped her to a chair.”

“That was me.”

“What?”

“She kidnapped Seppie. I'm … well.… I'm not sure how to tell you this gently, but … Lyle, basically she's an alien.”

There is a pause. This pause is long, and I instantly regret how abrupt I was, explaining this.

Finally, he says, “My mom?”

“Yes. And I'm really sorry, Lyle, and I'm sure this is a lot to process and is beyond hard to hear, but probably your dad, too, because your mom is antihuman in a big way. She's really bigoted. I don't think she'd marry a human.”

Again, the pause is long. I add, “I wish I could have done this face-to-face, but I didn't want to risk her hurting you.”

“So that means that I—”

“Pretty much,” I interrupt before he can say it. “I don't know how China feels about aliens, Pierce being the exception, so maybe you could not tell him that you probably are one, too. Maybe you could pretend like you're adopted.”

There is a big silence on the phone as I try to think of what to do.

“Maybe you should put China on the phone, actually,” I suggest.

After a second, his voice comes through in an exasperated rush. “No. No. I'm just processing. How is Seppie?”

“She's okay. I'm with her now.”

“And you're okay?”

“Perfect,” I say, as Seppie pulls into the high school parking lot. I motion for her to go around toward the left side, where there's an auxiliary parking lot. “We should go in the back.”

“Go in the back where?” Lyle demands.

“Um. We're okay, Lyle. I'm sorry that we didn't come out and get you, but … I … um … Well, I don't know if I can trust China, and—”

“Holy crap. You found the chip, didn't you?”

Seppie parks. I stare at the solid brick side of the building. Right behind it is the gym. There's an emergency entrance here.

“Yeah, Lyle, nice announcing it. I have to go, okay? I'll give you a call back in a little bit.”

“Mana. Do. Not. Hang. Up,” he says. “What are you doing? You found the chip? Are you trading it for your mom?”

“What do you think, Lyle?”

Seppie motions for me to hang up.

“Mana. You can't do that without us. It's dangerous.”

“I know. That's why I'm not telling you where we are. Duh. No offense. Sorry, that sounded mean…” I peek over at Seppie, who gives me a
do not be an idiot
face.

Lyle keeps talking, but not to me. “Holy crap. China. She found it. She's doing it. Mana, where are you?”

I hang up and silence the phone.

Seppie turns the key in the ignition and pulls it out. “So?”

“Does he really like me? Lyle?”

She pockets the key. “You just said his name unnecessarily, which he does all the time to you. That's a pretty big sign.” She smiles and opens up her door. It starts dinging because the lights are still on. She peers back in at me and flicks the headlights off. “Think you can manage the whole seat belt thing, Little Miss Love Bug?”

“Shut up. You are such a pooper scooper.” I jump out with that brilliant insult.

She reaches into the back of the truck and pulls out the two mechanical bows we bought at Walmart. We're too young to legally buy guns, but they let us have these killer bows, thanks to the magic of Seppie's credit cards.

She sticks one of the accompanying quiver things in her belt. I do the same. Then, carrying the bow beneath her arm, she stomps over to my side of the truck.

“You ready?”

“You look like the female Rambo.”

“Who the hell is Rambo?”

“He's this warrior guy from the eighties.”

She presses her lips together and then says, “You are as peculiar and as obscure as Lyle. Don't try to deny it.”

“It's why you love us. We just make you feel more normal.”

We stomp through the snow, over to the emergency fire door. Using the lock destroyer that China gave me earlier, I fry the door open.

“Brilliant.” Seppie nods approvingly.

“Thanks.”

I turn the doorknob as she says, “You really think I seem all badass?”

“Oh, absolutely one hundred percent badass.”

I hold the door open for her and she smiles and says, “I've always wanted to be badass.”

The gym smells like Febreze and basketball trainers and polish. Our wet shoes squelch across the floor.

“Thank God the custodian left the lights on in here,” Seppie says, “because it would be so freaky if it were dark.”

“We would just turn the lights on.” I adjust the bow.

“Oh. Right.”

We stand in the center of the gym, on the red center court line where they do all the basketball tip-offs, where I land my tumbling run at halftime.

“It's creepy being in here alone.” Seppie shudders, then stands up all straight. “Waiting for aliens. It's so quiet. Sometimes, when we're cheering, I want everyone to just shut up, for it to be silent, but now … Well, I could use a good, riotous basketball crowd right now.”

I touch her arm. She jumps.

“You don't have to do this with me, you know.”

Her hands go to her hips. “What kind of friend would I be if I made you rescue your mom all alone?”

“A sane friend?”

She snorts. “True.” She weaves her arm around mine. “I'm not leaving you. I am an official badass. Got it?”

Something sticks in my throat. “Got it.”

We wait.

We wait.

We wait some more.

“You think they'll see the note?” she asks.

“They'll see it.”

“Do you think waiting in the center of the gym is a good idea? Should we go put our backs up against the bleachers?”

Ack. “Yeah,” I say, because suddenly the thought of being surrounded by aliens seems really plausible. “It's stupid to wait out here. We need to be strategic.”

We hustle over to the bleachers. They're wooden, all folded up right now. When they're stacked on top of each other like this, they're probably fifteen feet high. We stand beneath them, silent for a few minutes. My mind races with scenarios that get more terrifying with every minute that passes.

“I hate waiting,” Seppie says.

“I know.”

“Your mom is going to be okay.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You think the aliens will—”

“Seppie. I am so sorry, and I know this is going to sound mean, and I don't want to sound mean, because I love you and you are the best friend and base anyone could ever want, but could we not talk for a minute?”

“Of course,” she says, and presses her lips together like she is holding stuff back. But she can't do it, and she goes, “Why?”

I lift my hand to stop her. I whisper, “I think I hear something.”

“What?”

“Aliens.”

“You hear the aliens?”

“Sh-h-h…”

“What are they saying?” she asks, voice hushed now.

There's no time to tell her, just time to order, “Get out your bow! Now!”

It's freaking Dakota Dunham again, now also known as Acid Tongue Boy. He skims across the ceiling, darting through the metal girders and straight at us. He comes across as barely human. He's not
any
human. He spits.

I shove Seppie sideways. The acid splashes against the wood bleachers, right where her stomach was. It hisses, eating through the old wood.

“Crap! Crap!” Seppie fumbles with her bow, voice rising. “Was that the acid? Did he really just spit acid?”

“Totally acid.”

“Damn, I wish you could do that.”

“It would be handy.”

Dakota takes another run at us. I pull the compound bow up to my shoulder, trying to remember all the hunting lessons my dad taught me. Steady. Let the pulleys do the work. Aim.

The arrow soars and hits him in the ankle. He squeals and tumbles, head over heels in the air, smacking down in the center of the room.

“I am so not into this kind of alien.” Seppie rocks backwards into me. “Even if he was a hottie, like, three days ago.”

“We can't all be cute and cuddly like me.” I put my bow down at my side. “
If
I am an official alien, that is. Still confused about that.”

“You can actually shoot that?” she says, motioning toward the bow.

“My dad taught me when we went hunting.”

She nods. Her eyes glaze over a little. “You never told me.”

“It was sort of a secret from Mom, because she was always so antiweapon, antifighting, which makes no sense at all now. Plus, it's not exactly cool, knowing how to shoot a compound bow. It doesn't fit with the cheerleader image.”

Dakota moves a little bit. Seppie takes a step forward. I touch her arm with my free hand. “Do not go near him.”

As if to prove my statement, he sits up and glares at us. He yanks out the arrow, hobbling up to a standing position.

“Crap,” Seppie mutters.

“You need to think of a better swear.”

She's shaking, but says, “Are we going to have to shoot him again? Because he's looking pissed.”

I bring the bow back up, get out another arrow. “I know. I know. Watch out for his spit, okay?”

“Okay.”

Dakota limps forward. One step. Another. He stares me down. He is an alien. I am an alien. He is a freak. I am a freak. And he is alive, and that means he's dangerous.

Another step.

My hand trembles.

“Mana!”

I aim.

Something smacks into him from the side. I twitch my hand. There's still an arrow there. I didn't shoot him. Something else did. And not with an arrow. A gun.

Men in Black swarm inside the gym. There have got to be ten of them, at least. Two capture Dakota, haul out a cell phone, just like China did so many days ago, and disappear. So Men in Black and acid aliens are not allies. Good to know.

Seppie staggers backwards and hits the bleachers.

“Holy shit,” she whispers.

“Much better swear.”

She doesn't answer, just stares. I stare, too. A final man comes in. He has his hand on a woman's arm, hurrying her along. It's my mom. My mom!

Joy surges through me, and I let it sit there in my heart for a second before I start frantically surveying her, checking to see if she looks obviously hurt. I want to run to her and hug her, yank her out of that guy's hand. It's so hard to be cautious, but as I look her over she just seems pale. There are circles under her eyes, like someone dipped their thumb in charcoal eye shadow and just fingerprinted it on there.

“Mom.”

I start forward, but Seppie grabs my arm, holding me back. “They've got guns. Remember the plan.”

“Whatever.” I shrug off the plan and run across the gym floor. Love and relief fill me.

Mom gasps and yells, “Stop. Mana. Don't come closer.”

I slip on the gym floor, which is wet from all the shoe slush. “What?”

“They'll shoot you.”

The man holding her arm nods.

Stopping, I look from one man to a woman next to him to another man. They all have the same intense, take-no-prisoners expression, so I cross my arms. “Fine.”

One of the men steps forward.

“How do I know you won't kill us?” I demand.

“You don't.”

“Great.”

He smiles a slow, crooked smile. Then he shrugs.

“You are no Will Smith,” I say.

“We're nothing like that stupid movie.”

I cock my head. “Really? So you don't have any morals at all?”

“Of course we do.” He gestures toward my mother. “It's you all that have it wrong.”

“Right.”

Seppie scoots up toward me. Her hands raise in the air. “No shooting, okay? Nice human cheerleader here. Does not want to be shot.” When she gets to me, she says, out of the corner of her mouth, “Can we cut with the talking?”

I try to keep her a little behind me, where it is safer by, like, two millimeters. “No.” I bend over and pull up my sock, then I make a big deal of adjusting the bow on my back, plucking at the arrows.

“Please tell me you didn't actually bring it, Mana,” Mom says.

The man next to her glares at her but doesn't hit her or anything. I take that as a good sign, and also as a sign that I don't have to murder him. Yet. “Mom, I had to. I had to get you back.”

“This is bigger than me, Mana.”

I nod. “I know.”

I put my hand in my oversized pocket and pull out a Coke can and the tiny chip.

“It's so tiny. So easily destroyed,” I say.

I count to three.

One.

Two.

Three.

Nobody moves.