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chapter twenty-two

I sat down in the chair opposite him.
 
“There are others?”

He finished his drink and held up the can.
 
I debated whether I should give him another given the rate he was going through them, but I gave in and put a fresh one in his hand.
 

“Can you make it colder?”

“Are you joking?”

“Just a little colder?”

I made it ice cold, which he obviously appreciated because he held it up and toasted me with it.
 
“There are five pieces of the skull that’s around your neck.
 
Those five pieces make up five amulets.
 
Four other people have them.
 
I don’t know who they are—never met them.
 
But my grandfather told me about them when he gave me his.”

“Are they local?”

“Could be.
 
Maybe not.
 
I don’t know.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Oh, you’ll know.
 
They’ll let you know.
 
And so will your amulet, so pay attention to it.
 
It’ll warn you if you’re in danger.”

“Why would they want it?”

“Because there’s more power in having all five.
 
Hell, there’s more power in having two.
 
I don’t know who has them, buy my grandfather told me it was a generational thing that started with one family, likely Native American.
 
He was friends with one of the boys who had one.
 
My grandfather was bullied like you were.
 
His friend hated seeing what those bastards put him through at school, so he gave my grandfather his amulet, just as I gave you mine.
 
And that’s the thing.
 
You have to willingly give it to someone or you need to kill someone for it.
 
There’s no other way to get one.”

“If having more of them makes you stronger, then somebody must have come after your grandfather for his.”

“They did.
 
But my grandfather had the same way with his that you have with yours.
 
He was able to keep them off him—barely.
 
But he did.
 
I don’t think anyone else could do with their amulet what my grandfather could do with his, which is why they eventually backed off.”
 

He picked up his beer, took a sip.
 
“There’s something else.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t just those with the amulet who came after my grandfather.
 
A witch also came after him.”

“Now you expect me to believe in witches?”

“Why not?
 
They exist.
 
And you’re not far from being one yourself.
 
If you told somebody that you could become invisible, would you expect them to believe you?”
 
He let a beat of silence pass.
 
“That’s what I thought.
 
And, yes, I expect you to believe me.
 
Power is power and for a witch, that amulet represents massive power.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

“Well, you’d better, boy.
 
And you’d better listen to me.
 
There are witches.
 
They know about the amulet.
 
Don’t be surprised if one takes an interest in you.”

He saw my frustration with him and leaned back against the seat.
 
“Look, Seth, nothing might happen, but you need to know that something could happen.
 
That’s what this is about.
 
Pay attention to what the amulet tells you.
 
Key into it.
 
If any of them come for you, now you’ll know why they’re coming for you.
 
They want the amulet.
 
If you don’t give it to them, they’ll try to kill you for it.
 
You need to be prepared for that.”

“Did anyone come after you?”

“The witch did.”

“What did she look like?”

“Young, pretty.
 
And mean.
 
I didn’t allow her much time to stick around.
 
I gave her everything I had, we fought and she lost.”

“When was this?”

“Twenty years ago?”

“Did you kill her?”

“Wish I had.”

“What happened to her?”

“She disappeared.
 
Never saw her again.”

“Why didn’t the others come for you?”

“There’s a lot of responsibility that comes with having that amulet.
 
I think you’ve figured that out by now.
 
Adding another layer of power is adding another layer of responsibility.
 
Some don’t want that.”

“What am I supposed to do now, Jim?”

“Pay attention.
 
Keep the amulet close.
 
Listen to your dreams and your nightmares.
 
If they decide to come for you, you’ll know it.
 
And if you plan to keep the amulet, expect to find yourself in a battle for your life over it.”

“What if I decide to give it up?”

Jim raised his eyebrows and looked at me over his last swallow of beer.
 
“Then you’d be a damn fool.”

chapter twenty-three

Later that evening, just before I turned in for the night, I went to the iMac I bought earlier and decided to check to see what people were saying about Jake Tyler on Facebook.
 

Obviously, I hadn’t been friended by any of the people whose accounts I wanted to check, but that didn’t matter.
 
I just slipped into Mike Hastings' account, where I knew there’d be talk if there was any talk happening.

And was there ever—the conversation was at a boiling point.
 
I read comments from Hastings and Ginny Gibson and the other five who came to my house that night to torch it—Rebecca Ward, Joe Whitehill, Amy Rogers, Alan Stewart and Rob Maxwell.
 

They were talking about Jake, but there was no direct mention of me.
 
Instead, they mentioned me cryptically.
 
Apparently, my code name was Smokey, which proved that what they did amused them.
 
I thought about it for a moment and then made myself an account with that name.
 
Without them knowing, I became friends with all of them and then joined the conversation.
 
I began to type.

Smokey:
 
“Does anyone here know that Ginny Gibson gets spanked by her step-father?”

There was a pause in the action.

Hastings:
 
“Who is this?”

Smokey:
 
“There’s a picture of her getting swatted here.”
 
I imagined what the photo would look like.
 
I imagined a clothed Ginny Gibson bending over her step-father’s knee and getting a spanking.
 
On her face wasn’t a look of pain, but pleasure.
 
I put the photo on Twitpic and added the link.
 
“Check it out.”

Another pause, this one much longer.

Gibson:
 
“That’s a fake!”

Smokey:
 
“No, it’s not.”

Hastings:
 
“Who, is this?”

Smokey:
 
“Who do you think it is, Mike?”

Gibson:
 
“That’s not me!”

Alan:
 
“It looks like you, Ginny.”

Joe:
 
“It totally does.
 
And that’s definitely your Dad.
 
Ginny, you a freeeeeeaaaak!”

Gibson:
 
“I don’t know how you got in here, Moore, but take it down.
 
Now.”

Smokey:
 
“Actually, I just sent the link to all of your Facebook and Twitter friends, Ginny.
 
This shit is going viral, like the video I just posted of you and your step-father on YouTube.”
 

I imagined the video, placed it on the site and included the link.
 
“Good luck with that tomorrow at school.
 
Might want to bring your step-daddy with you to slap someone else’s ass if things get out of hand, because I didn’t just send it to your friends.
 
I sent it to everyone in school, including the teachers and the administration.
 
It’s waiting for them in their private email addresses, Facebook and Twitter accounts.
 
Just think—in about an hour, you’ll be trending on Twitter.
 
Nobody deserves it like you, Ginny.
 
Nobody.
 
Swear to God.”

Gibson:
 
“Take them down!”

Smokey:
 
“You’re all going to pay.
 
Every one of you.
 
You’re going to pay for what you did to me and to my parents.
 
I’m getting revenge on all of you.
 
It’s going to be long and slow and painful.
 
You’ll wish you were dead by the time I’m done with you.
 
Just ask Jake Tyler.”

And then I deleted their Facebook and Twitter accounts so there was no proof of our little conversation.
 
I removed “Smokey’s” account for the same reason.
 
And then I wiped out any trace of activity on Facebook’s servers.

I turned off my computer and sat there for a moment.
 
I looked at the photograph of my mother and father, which I’d brought into my bedroom and put on my nightstand.
 
It was never perfect with them, it was rotten when they lost their jobs and turned to alcohol, but I missed them terribly.
 
I was alone now and I felt alone.
 
Creepy Jim was there, but he wasn’t family.
 
Neither were Alex or Jennifer.

It was just me.
 
And just me sucked.

I got into bed and turned off the light.
 
I listened to the silence and wished I could hear a television blaring in another room.
 
Maybe my mother laughing at one of her reality shows.
 
My father getting up to get a beer.
 
Just something.
 
Anything.

I thought of what creepy Jim told me earlier and wondered if others were searching for my piece of the amulet.
 
I wondered if they’d come for me.
 
What would I do if they did?

And then I thought about what I just did to Ginny Gibson.
 
Right now, hundreds were looking at her photo and tens of thousands were watching her spanking video on YouTube.
 
The prison I chose for her would be unwanted fame.
 
And I’d follow up with more, because that merely wasn’t enough considering what that bitch deserved.
 
When I really took her down, I’d be unrelenting.

I closed my eyes.
 
I looked up at the dark ceiling and let my thoughts spin out into the room and beyond it.
 
Tomorrow, would be intense.
 
Tomorrow would destroy Ginny Gibson.

And then it occurred to me.
 

For the first time in my life, I couldn’t wait for school.