The Eighth Day (6 page)

THE VOICES FADED
in and out, and it took a while for Jax to focus on the words.

“Why don't we all move someplace else? The Emrys girl too.”

“Camouflage works best when you stay in one place, Crandall. Start moving and all bets are off.”

“Yeah, but in this case . . .”

“Jax is awake.”

Jax could've sworn he hadn't moved. But now he opened his eyes. His left hand tingled, and when he looked at it . . . “Hey!” he shouted, sitting up and finding himself on the living room sofa. “I passed out and you
finished the tattoo
?”

A.J. shrugged. “You were nice and still.”

His skin looked puffy and red, but the Aubrey crest was now inked into his wrist. It must have taken hours to finish the job. Was it normal to be out cold that long? Jax
looked accusingly at the other boys.

But his eyes were drawn back to the tattoo. It was undeniably cool. A.J. had gotten creative with the design: the eye on the scroll was fancier, he'd made the bird a bald eagle, and the flames were colorfully inked in red and gold. But it was basically the same family crest that Jax's father had tattooed on his wrist and engraved on his fancy dagger.

ART (EMBLEM)
TK

“There's one more thing to do.” A.J. picked the Aubrey dagger off the coffee table. “Come over here . . . and kneel down in front of Riley.”

“No,” said Riley.

A.J. frowned. “I know he's young for it, but how else are you going to protect him?”

“Gimme that.” Jax stood up and snatched the dagger from A.J.'s hand. He didn't know what they were talking about, but he didn't like the sound of it. Kneel to Riley?

A.J. turned toward Riley. “You said you were going to look out for the kid.”

“I will,” said Riley. “The oath I made to his father covers that. I don't require anything else from Jax.”

“I don't know what you promised my dad,” Jax said, “but you've been a lousy guardian.”

“Is that what you think?” Riley replied.

“You haven't looked out for me.” Jax scowled. “You haven't explained anything to me—
why
we get this extra day, or
who
else gets it, or
how
there can be people who live on only one day a week.”

“Those are a lot of questions.”

“I've got more.” Jax held up his sore arm. “Why do I have to have a tattoo with my family crest, but you
camouflage
yours?”

“You're right. We do need to talk about that, but not tonight.” Riley removed his dagger from its sheath and balanced it on the palm of his hand. “Getting marked takes a lot out of you,” he said, looking up from the dagger and meeting Jax's eyes. “I might be a lousy guardian, but I know you're tired and need to go to bed.”

I am not
, Jax wanted to say. Instead he swayed, and his
eyelids got too heavy to hold up. He would've fallen into the coffee table if Riley and A.J. hadn't grabbed his arms. They hauled him upstairs, Jax mumbling protests all the way, and when they dumped him into bed, his eyes closed and stayed that way.

“You'll sleep till morning” was the last thing he heard Riley say.

In the morning, Jax woke with a sense of panic. His arm was sore but not so puffy anymore. He tried to remember why he'd held out his arm to A.J. and all he could think of was: he hadn't wanted to. It made him shudder to remember how eagerly he'd asked for a snake when seconds earlier he'd wanted nothing to do with those needles. He pulled on a long-sleeve shirt and left the house for school without stopping for breakfast.

“Jax?” Riley called out from the kitchen as he passed by. “Hey, Jax!”

Jax didn't answer. He quickened his pace and walked down the street to catch the bus at Billy's house.

The long sleeve shirt didn't fool Billy, who spotted the tattoo on the bus. Jax had to give a partial explanation, and Billy was hurt. “If A.J. Crandall was doing home tattoos, why didn't you call me? My mom would've
killed
me for getting a tattoo.” He said the last as if it were an honor Jax had denied him.

Jax couldn't tell Billy about Grunsday, and he couldn't explain how Riley and A.J. had tattooed his arm against his will. “I passed out, all right?” he finally said. “I would've called you, but I fainted as soon as A.J. stuck a needle in my arm, and I was embarrassed.”

“Dude, you didn't.”

“Like a girl. I fainted like a girl.”
And stayed passed out for the next three hours
.

Billy crowed with laughter. Jax tugged down his sleeve and asked, “Can I stay at your house this weekend?” Suddenly, Jax was afraid to go home—afraid of Riley.

“Sure. Unless . . .” Billy's eyes lit up. “Do you think A.J. would—”

“You'd need permission from your parents,” Jax said promptly.

Billy's shoulders slumped. “I said it before and I'll say it again. You are so lucky to have Riley Pendare as your guardian.”

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THE BOYS HOLED UP
in Billy's basement rec room Friday night to play video games. Jax borrowed Billy's computer and waited until his friend was fully engaged defending Hyrule against an army of giant spiders before he opened up Google. Searching for
Grunsday
turned up nothing but jokes.
Eighth day
or
eight days a week
unearthed movies and song titles. Jax scratched at the tattoo, which had begun to itch, then tried
extra day between Wednesday and Thursday
.

A site called Between Wednesday and Thursday topped the list. The link led to a message board with a banner that read:
If you have to ask, you don't belong here
. There was only one thing visible on the page:

This is a private group. Potential members know why they belong here. If you wish to join, send a message HERE describing why you deserve membership in 140 characters or less.

Jax hesitated only a moment before clicking on the link and typing a message:

just had the eighth day for the 2nd time. seeking more information.

He included his email address as requested and tapped the send button.

Billy let out a horrible, bloodcurdling cry and stretched his arm over the back of the sofa, offering the controller to Jax. “Just got my brains slurped out of my head. Wanna turn?”

“Yeah.” Jax deleted his search history and logged off. He was just sitting down on the sofa when his phone chirped, and he pulled it out of his backpack to check his texts.

Riley: where r u

Jax's heart lurched. Reluctantly, he thumbed in a reply.

Jax: @billys house

Riley: u didn't tell me

Jax: i never tell u

There was a long pause after that. Then:

Riley: u coming home tonite?

Jax: staying weekend

Riley: WHEN r u coming home?

In four months, Riley had never kept track of Jax's comings and goings. Jax remembered Riley's hand on his arm, pressing him into the chair for the tattoo, and shivered in revulsion.

Jax: depends when will U b @ work?

There was another pause before Riley's final message.

Riley: guess u dont want answers to those ?s after all

Billy's mom let Jax stay the weekend, sleeping on the couch in their basement. “Your guardian says it's okay?” she asked.

“He doesn't care where I am,” Jax said, and she nodded grimly, as if that was exactly what she'd expected. Mrs. Ramirez was a lot less impressed with Riley Pendare than her son was. Jax kept his sleeve pulled down over his new tattoo lest her disapproval for Riley spill over onto him. He ate every bit of home-cooked food she put in front of him.

He didn't go home until late Sunday morning, when he
found a blue '58 Thunderbird with its roof off parked in front of the house. He would have assumed anyone with a car like that must be visiting one of the neighbors, except it was a classic car with no computerized parts—and by now Jax was catching on. He scrambled up the front steps and pushed open the door.

Riley was sitting on the sofa next to a very pretty girl with long black hair. When Jax walked in, Riley stood up hastily. “Uh, Jax . . .”

Jax cleared his throat. “I can come back later if you're, um . . .”

“We're not
anything
.”

The girl also stood up and smoothed down her short skirt. “You must be Riley's protégé. Aren't you a cutie!” She barely came to Riley's shoulder, even in high-heeled boots, and she wore a short leather jacket that matched a sheath at her hip containing
an engraved dagger
.

Jax gaped at her, and she raised her left hand to show him the tattoo on her wrist. It was delicate and feminine and bordered by red roses. When she walked toward Jax, he smelled the scent of roses in her perfume.

“This is Deidre Morgan,” said Riley. “She fixed our refrigerator, and then she was
leaving
.”

Deidre ignored him. “I didn't catch
your
name, cutie.” Her dark eyes lingered on Jax's tattoo.

“Jaxon Aubrey. You fix refrigerators?” She was like no repairman he had ever seen.

“I fix all kinds of things,” she said, leaning an arm on Jax's shoulder. “Machinery's my talent, especially engines of war.” Jax froze, suddenly realizing the dagger wasn't the only weapon this girl carried. There was a shoulder holster under her jacket and something tiny and pearl-handled sticking out of the top of her boot.

Nope. Not your typical refrigerator repairman
.

Riley rolled his eyes. “Just give him the radio, Deidre.”

“Spoil sport.” She unclipped a radio from her belt and offered it to Jax. “This is a secure radio for you to use on the eighth day. Channel two is how Riley will contact you, but in an emergency, call for help on channel one, and they'll all get it.”

Jax frowned. “They?”

“Riley's raggedy crew.” She turned to Riley with a smile. “Anything else I can do for you, sweetie?”

“No, thanks, Deidre,” Riley said. “I appreciate your help.”

“Say no in haste, regret at leisure.”

He laughed. “I've told you what I think.”

“Your counterproposal is weak,” Deidre said pleasantly. “You've got one thing of value to offer, and if you want my family's manpower and weaponry to deal with the Emrys situation, you're going to have to put that on the line. Think it over, sweetie. Jax, nice to meet you.” In a passing breeze of rose blossoms, she was out the door and gone.

“Geez, Riley,” Jax breathed. “Is that your girlfriend?”

“Deidre?” Riley laughed. “No.”

What, then? His personal assassin?

Riley waved a hand at the sofa. “Have a seat.”

Jax felt a surge of panic. He remained standing, bristling from head to toe.

“I'm not ordering you. I'm asking,” Riley said quietly.

Was that some kind of admission? “Did you drug me the other night?”

“Drug you? No.” He said it with the same amusement as when Jax asked if Deidre was his girlfriend. “Please, Jax. Sit down.” Riley sat down in the armchair, as if demonstrating how it was done.

Reluctantly, Jax put the radio on the coffee table and sat down.

“I asked Deidre to set up the radio so you'd have a means of communication on Grunsday. Keep it with you at all times on the eighth day.”

“And if there's an emergency”—
What kind of emergency?
—“Deidre would come?”

“No, not Deidre. She just supplies me with these radios because she has access to them and we're old friends.”

Old friends. Yeah, right
. “She said you wanted weaponry—” Jax began.

Riley interrupted him. “Call on that radio, and you'll raise me or the Crandalls. It has enough range to reach any of the corresponding radios within town limits.”

“What if I'm outside town?”

“Don't be. A lot of Transitioners use Grunsday for their own advantage. I'm talking petty thievery, burglary, and some things a whole lot worse. My mother always said that having the extra day was too much temptation for some people. Maybe even most people.” Riley ran a hand through his hair and looked away, frowning as if he'd surprised himself by sharing something about his mother.

It surprised Jax, too. He opened his mouth to comment, but Riley sighed and looked up again. “It's better to stay with your own group, where there's safety in numbers. Your father learned that the hard way.”

Jax stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“What'd your dad do for a living, Jax?”

“He owned a company called Information Resources.”

“Which did what?”

“He always said he ‘moved information.' He was a consultant.”

Riley stared at the floor for a moment, then met Jax's eyes. “You mean people paid him to get information. Information other people didn't want them to have.”

Jax frowned. “Now wait a minute.”

“Like plans for business mergers and new products and secret deals . . .”

“No!” Jax leaped to his feet. “You make it sound like he was some kind of spy!” Riley didn't drop his gaze, and Jax glared at him. “My dad wasn't a crook.”

“Your dad stumbled across something dangerous,” Riley said. “And realizing the danger, he approached me and offered useful information in exchange for my promise to look out for you if the worst came to pass. It did, and here we are.”

“What?” Jax demanded. “What did he find out?”

“He knew something that got him killed. If I told you, I really would be a lousy guardian, wouldn't I?”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

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