Under My Skin (Wildlings) (14 page)

Marina turns back to me. "Then we'll have to get her away from the school as quickly and nonchalantly as we can. If she's outside, I'll go to her while you guys head off someplace else. We can hook up later at Desmond's. Just stay cool and we'll get through this."

She's right, of course, but thankfully Elzie's not waiting for us outside.

"Guys … three o'clock … dark sedan on the other side of the school buses," Desmond says. "Tinted windows. Engine idling. Who drives a car like that except for a cop?"

Marina and I take turns having a look as we continue down the walk to the street. I have no idea what an undercover police car would look like beyond the black SUVs I saw before. I don't like the fact that whoever's in it can see us but we can't see them.

"Could be," Marina says. "Let's split up. Desmond, come with me. Josh, I'll text you if the car follows you. If it does—"

"I know. Act normal, stay cool," I say.

When we reach the street, Marina and Desmond drop their boards to the pavement. They push off and head south while I go north, carrying my board. I fall in with a big group of kids heading to the mall. My phone vibrates in my pocket as we get to the end of the block. I pull it out and glance at the screen.

cop followng u.

Marina

The plan to split up is our only way to know whether Josh is being followed. Sure enough, as soon as Josh heads north, a man in a suit gets out of the sedan and falls in behind a big group of kids. Josh is lost in their midst. They're pretty much all going to hit the mall. I hope there's safety in numbers.

It's weird that in a town with a great big beautiful ocean just a few blocks away from school, they go straight from being indoors all day to indoors again at the shopping center. It's not that I've never done it, but the mall gets old pretty fast for me unless I'm there with Mamá. I like picking out clothes for her.

Desmond elbows me. "Holy crap! Are you seeing this? That cop's on Josh like a Valley Girl chasing her purse dog."

"Don't stare at them," I say.

I push off and wheel down the street, Desmond following. When we get to the corner, I pull out my phone to text Josh. I don't know what he'll do about it, but I figure he should know he's being followed.

"Okay," I tell Des. "I let Josh know about the cop. Let's go hang at your place.

"You got it, amiga," Des says, pushing off again.

"I'm starved," Desmond says when we get to the garage. "Want to come in for some toast and peanut butter?"

"Nah, I'm good," I tell him. "I'll just hang out here and watch for Elzie."

What a day this has been. I guess I should've expected that Josh might come across my blog, but it still came as a shock. I feel strangely proud that he thinks Nira is cool and smart. I wish I could take credit, but that would blow my cover right out the door. Now I have to hope that he doesn't figure out that Nira is me.

I don't have to wait long before Desmond comes back, a satisfied grin on his face. A daub of shiny peanut butter on his lower lip only adds to his silly smirk.

"What's up with you, Wilson?" I ask.

"I'm just loving life, surfer girl. I'm thinking about Josh giving that cop a taste of what it's like to have
real
power. I just wish I could be there to watch."

"
Really
? You need to stay here on Earth with rest of us. There's no way Josh is dumb enough to change in front of that cop. I don't know what he plans to do, but I hope like hell they don't disappear him or anything."

That sobers Desmond, at least for the moment.

"So where's herself?" he asks.

"No clue," I say. "Let's just play some music for awhile, see if either of them shows."

"Sounds good to me," Des says, strapping on his bass.

It's a Fender Precision, just like Nokie Edwards plays, which is why he got it. It's hard to go wrong using the same gear The Ventures did on their early albums. I have to admit that I've got a pair of Canopus drumsticks myself—the official Mel Taylor model, of course.

It's hot outside so it's hot in the garage, which doesn't have any AC, but we don't care. The two of us jam for well over an hour, having fun, but missing the sweet sound of Josh's Les Paul riffing over top of the rhythms we're laying down. Desmond switches to his keyboard from time to time, but it's still not the same.

There's been no sign of Elzie, so I decide to text Josh again to tell him she's a no-show.

Josh

I was scared when the two agents had me in Principal Hayden's office. And I was nervous for Elzie when I was rushing for the front entrance after school. But right now, I'm pissed off. Not enough to do something stupid like change in front of everybody. But enough to give these guys a run for their money.

I continue down the block, heading for the Santa Feliz Shopping Center. It's just me and a lot of other kids, going to hang out in the mall and stuff our faces in the food court so we won't have any appetite for dinner—or at least that's Mom's take on it.

We stop at the streetlight and I pretend to text while we wait for it to change. The wind's coming from behind me. I test the air, sifting through all the various scents, but not obviously, because I remember what Marina said.

The girls smell like perfume and shampoo and body washes, with a faint natural scent under it. The boys are stronger—there's more B.O. and if they're using a cologne, they're using too much. But male or female, they all have the smell of Sunny Hill High on them. All except for one. He smells of aftershave and the car he was just sitting in. I can even smell the faint metal and oil scent of the gun he's got under his jacket.

The light changes and the crowd streams across the street. I let myself get jostled enough to steal a quick glance back in a way that seems natural. The man in the suit isn't either Agents Matteson or Solana. My nose already told me that, but now I have a visual for him, too.

I quicken my pace as we all cross the mall parking lot in a long ragged line of laughing and talking kids with one lone FBI agent trailing in the rear. When we get to the entrance, I step to one side and bend down to retie my shoelace. Mr. FBI has to keep going. I let him go through the doors, then I follow. The air conditioning is cool on my skin after the heat outside.

He hasn't gone far. I pass him where he's standing by the window of the Dollar Store, studying their merchandise. I walk by without looking and hear him fall in behind me. His shoes make a soft scuffing sound on the marble, distinct from everyone else's footfalls.

I've usually got the barrage of input that comes with being a Wildling clamped down so well that I forget just how useful it can be.

I haven't quite figured out how to lose him. I just know that it'll be easier here in the mall with all the other kids and shoppers around than it would be out on the street.

And then it comes to me.

After school, the busiest spot in the mall for guys my age is the gaming store, Spyglass Games. When I get there the usual crowd is inside, trying out games, flipping through the used bins and new titles. I walk to the back of the store, where Barry Stewart is working on an order.

Barry lives a block over from me and he's a full-on computer geek. When Des and I have problems with our computers, Marina's the one who deals with what needs to be fixed. But when she's stumped, or when the electronics are more complicated, we see Barry. Half the kids in school do—the jocks, the stoners, everybody. So even though he's tall and gawky, with a perpetual bad haircut and Buddy Holly glasses, nobody picks on him. Not even the Ocean Avers, because they've got electronics same as everybody else. If Barry can't fix it, then it's time to get a new one anyway.

He looks up when I crouch down beside him.

"Saw you on the news, man," he says. "What was up with that?"

I didn't realize it had been that long since we'd last talked. He's a senior, so we don't really hang out at school, and the rest of my life has been so crazy I just haven't been over to his place since I first changed. We've done some really cool home recording and mixing at his place. Like I said, if it involves computers, Barry's your man.

"I still don't really know," I say. "You remember me telling you about Steve—my mom's latest, now her ex?"

"Yeah. Sounds like he was a piece of work."

"Well, it was something he brought into the house. I don't know how he got mixed up with Wildlings, but as soon as that mountain lion showed up, I was out of there."

"That's what I heard. So what can I do for you?" he adds with a grin. "Are you finally going to bite the bullet and get yourself
Rock Band
?"

I laugh. "Have they got a Ventures module yet?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I'll stick to playing my Les Paul."

"No kidding," he says with a chuckle. "Still can't get you to come over to the dark side, eh?"

I've been keeping tabs on the Secret Agent Man while we're talking. He's still at the front of the store by the new releases rack, acting like he's trying to decide which game to buy.

"Mind if I use your washroom?" I ask Barry.

They're normally for staff only, but we've been friends long enough that he just nods.

"Sure. You know where it is?"

"Back of the storeroom."

Where there's also a back door that they use for receiving shipments.

"Just don't go looking through the new used stuff," Barry says. "Julio's got them in some weird order that no one else can figure out. He goes ballistic if anyone touches them."

"Not a problem."

I glance casually to the front of the store. Secret Agent Man has his head turned for a moment, so I take the opportunity to slip into the back room. Julio won't have to worry about me messing up the used games since I'm going right for the back door. But I have to say, if the chaos in here is his idea of being organized, I don't want to see where he lives. It's probably worse than Danny Reed's car.

The door opens with a creak and I step out. But before I can push it closed behind me, something catches the metal edge.

"You sure this is the smartest idea?"

The mountain lion caught and noted Cory's scent before he spoke. I turn to find him leaning on the door jamb, still holding the door ajar.

"I thought it was a pretty smart way to lose the FBI," I say.

He nods. "Except that it tells them that you know they're following you."

I give him a blank look.

"It tells them you've got something to hide," he says, "because you've gone to the effort to lose the agent."

"I need to see Elzie and I don't want to lead them to her."

"You don't need to see her. You
want
to see her. Not the same thing."

When I start to protest, he holds up a hand.

"It's okay," he says. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to see your girlfriend. But is it worth really putting yourself on the Feds' radar?"

"I'm already on their radar."

Cory shakes his head. "Right now, they're checking out possibilities. But deliberately lose the guy tailing you? That'll put your file right at the top of the heap. They'll be all over your life with a fine-toothed comb."

"I've done nothing wrong."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, I get it," I say. "Being fingered as a possible Wildling would be enough to put me in their bad books. But why are they more interested in me now than last week?"

"Well, that's kind of my fault."

"You
told
them about me?"

"Don't be an ass. Remember when I ran into you and Elzie at the old naval base?"

"Yeah, you were scouting it out because they were keeping some friends of yours in there."

"Right. And last night, with the help of a couple of other friends, we broke them out. They had seven cousins locked up in there. They're all long gone now, except for Jez, who's sticking around to help me out. That's the good news."

He waits a moment and I realize he wants me to ask the question.

"So what's the bad news?"

"The bad news," he says, "is that now they know that some of us don't like what they're doing and we're messing with their game. There's already all kinds of extra security out there, so it'll be a lot harder the next time we want to break someone out."

"So that's why they came to question me today at school—I'm one of their suspects."

"Pretty much. They're being proactive. Trying to get a line on everybody they think is a going concern."

"So what am I supposed to do? Just forget about Elzie?"

He shakes his head. "She's a smart girl. So you be smart, too. Go do whatever you'd normally do after school. She'll get in touch with you when it's safe."

"Normally I'm seeing her."

He gives me a look.

"Okay," I tell him. "I'll be smart."

I turn to go back into the mall, but pause to ask, "How did you know to find me here?"

He smiles. "I didn't. I've been watching the Feds—mooching around to see how much they know, how many agents they've got in the field. I just happened to see Agent McCloud start following you—and it's a good thing I did. You could have really screwed things up for yourself."

"There should be a handbook for all this crap."

"There is," he says.

"Where do I find it?"

"It's not an 'it.' You need a more experienced cousin to take you under his wing."

"Is that an offer?"

He shakes his head. "Like I told you before, I'm too busy to be babysitting a virgin—especially one with the wrong politics."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

But I know. He thinks that because I'm with Elzie, I've aligned myself with the ferals.

"Just get back inside," he says. "And the next time something seems like a good idea, think it through first."

His know-it-all attitude is starting to bug me, but I take his advice and think it through before I tell him off. I have to admit he's right. I
was
about to screw up. And like he did from day one, he's only trying to help me.

"I get it," I tell him. "Thanks." I start to go back inside, then turn around. "But how could you be following us in there and yet be waiting outside this door?"