Scorch Page 14

  Really, it was only a matter of time before Ferbus snapped.

  “Screw this!” he cried on their thirteenth straight night of Ferbusopoly, heaving the collection of game boards and tokens into the trash. “Screw Colonel Mustard, screw Queen Frostine, and screw that godforsaken thimble! I’m done!”

  The next night, Lex and Driggs arrived to find him sitting on the floor amid a pile of wires and electronics. “He’s lost it,” Elysia told them. “He bought a used TV and a bunch of extra controllers for the Nintendo—”

  “Xbox!” Ferbus said without looking up.

  “—and now he’s setting it up for this game where we’re all supposed to shoot each other. Or team up and fight aliens. Or robots. It’s unclear to me at this point.”

  She got the hang of it soon enough, though, as did the rest of the Juniors. In fact, they turned out to be pretty good at obliterating one another—perhaps unsurprisingly, given their chosen careers and the fact that it was the perfect catharsis for their pent-up frustration. Especially Elysia, who clearly had a lot of unresolved anger issues.

  “DIE!” she screamed as she mashed the controller that evening, exploding some poor pixilated being into a glob of blood and guts. “DIE, ENEMY SCUM!”

  “Damn, Lys,” said Driggs, his tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. “You could really give Zara a run for her money in the whole decimating-our-population department.”

  He was kidding, of course; Zara’s totals couldn’t be matched. In addition to the daily slaughter of innocents, she was now picking off Grims with increasing regularity. Most were from Necropolis, and although she oddly seemed to be leaving DeMyse alone, she’d managed to sneak in and Damn two Croakers despite Norwood’s promises of increased security. But the new mayor had an explanation for everything, simply declaring that the victims must have been working for Zara all along. Those who cooperated and remained loyal to the Grimsphere had nothing to worry about, he’d say, always with a smile.

  Elysia threw a grenade at Driggs, Pip, and Ferbus, whose characters disintegrated behind a pile of rubble. “I win! Again!”

  “Whatever,” said Ferbus, irritably grabbing her controller away. “That was a practice round anyway.”

  “Then why are you so pissed?” Bang signed.

  “Shut up, MacGyver.”

  Bang gave him the finger, but she was smiling. Ever since she’d dismantled that bomb, everyone had started paying a little more attention to the previously shy, mute girl. They’d even begun to pick up some of her signs. As it turned out, she was just as capable of intelligent conversation as the rest of them.

  Ferbus gritted his teeth and reloaded the game as Elysia got up to do a victory dance around him, one that involved a lot of thrusting. “I! Win! Again!—Oh, hey, Sofi,” she said. “Want to play?”

  Sofi had been trying to sneak through the hallway to her room, but she paused briefly in the hallway now that everyone was staring at her. “No thanks,” she said, tucking her laptop under her arm. “Have fun, though.”

  Elysia stared at the empty doorway once she’d left. “Maybe we should tell her. About—you know.” She gestured at the jellyfish scars on her forearm.

  “No,” Lex said quickly. “She’s never asked, and if we told her, she’d probably pout so hard her lips would fall off anyway. Let’s just keep quiet and not make things worse.”

  “Yeah, what does she care?” Ferbus said, starting a new game. “Hellspawn always gives her the easiest jobs anyway. Skanks, the both of them. Stupid skanks!”

  Lex agreed with Ferbus’s astute observation, but she didn’t say anything more. Sofi was still friendly with everyone, but a definite rift existed now, and Lex had a strong suspicion it was because of what had happened between her and Driggs at Corpp’s. Sofi never quite met his eye anymore or flirted with him the way she used to.

  Lex, meanwhile, found that she couldn’t stop doing either of those things. Other than video games, the whole Wrong Book debacle, and the fact that Zara could drop in and slaughter them at any moment, Driggs was Lex’s main distraction these days. In fact, his inventiveness in finding new ways to be alone together had reached a series of sexy new heights. They’d locked lips behind the paint aisle of the hardware store, in the walk-in refrigerator at the Morgue (much to Pandora’s simultaneous disgust and delight), and, of course, all over the roof of their house. Once, they even fooled around in the Bank, brazenly making out right there on the couch of the foyer as Norwood walked in on his way to the hub.

  “You suspended our working privileges,” Driggs coolly told him after receiving a lengthy scolding. “Not our God-given right to eat each other’s faces. Deal with it.”

  Lex tried to focus on the game, but she was pretty solidly losing, judging by the amount of blood spurting from her character’s neck. “This is what comes of growing up with only roller coaster simulation games,” she said, blindly mashing the controller. “Stupid Cordy.”

  “How’s she doing these days?” asked Pip.

  “I wouldn’t know.” Lex scowled. “Wicket said she went deep into the Void a few weeks ago on an excursion to Afterlife Egypt.”

  “Don’t worry, Lex,” Elysia said tenderly, decapitating Lex’s character with a bayonet. “She’ll come back eventually.”

  Lex tossed the controller aside with a sigh and watched the map at the bottom of the screen, following the little icons as they scurried around the terrain. “Well, she’s already dead. Doesn’t seem like a fate much worse could befall her.”

  “But Kloo hasn’t shown up either,” said Pip. “Right?”

  “Oh, that happens sometimes,” Elysia said. “Grim souls don’t always want to see us or be reminded of their old life.”

  Lex had stopped listening. She stared harder at the map. Something was itching at her brain, but—

  “Does anyone have a map of Croak?” she asked.

  “Closet,” said Ferbus.

  Lex sprang from the couch and dug around the closet until she found it—crumpled and stained, but readable. Next she grabbed her bag—after administering the Loophole, Uncle Mort had insisted that each Junior pack some essentials and carry them at all times in case they had to make a quick getaway. Among Lex’s essentials was the rubbing she’d made from the obelisk, which she smoothed out in front of her.

  Lex traced a line across the features of the map, then an identical line across the symbols:

  Every one of her hairs stood up on end. “The symbols are a map,” she said. Everyone except Ferbus looked at her. She held up the rubbing. “If the single line at the bottom represents the obelisk, then the two crossed lines are the Bank. The next one is the Ghost Gum, where we found the key, and the last one is the cabin in the woods—it all fits!” She pointed at the cross symbol. “The only thing left is something hidden at the Bank!”

  “Like what?” said Driggs.

  “Probably a way to get past the cabin’s shield! Like a neutralizer! What if—”

  “Ha!” yelled Ferbus, the only one still playing. “Just stole Elysia’s rocket launcher!”

  Elysia grabbed her controller. “You what?”

  At that point almost everyone lost interest in the symbols and started blowing one another’s heads off again. But Lex’s mind was still buzzing with possibilities. Back when she’d been looking for the key, she’d dismissed the Bank as being too busy and visible for someone—the white figure, or whoever—to sneak something in. But maybe not.

  “I’m going to go look around in the Bank,” she announced, grabbing her hoodie.

  Driggs, Ferbus, and Elysia were too riveted to the game to protest. “But it’s almost ten,” said Pip. “And we’re not allowed in the Bank anymore.”

  “What more can Norwood do to me? Throw me in jail?”

  “He could take away your scythe,” Bang signed. “Or make you clean his basement. Again.”

  “Yeah,” said Pip. “How are you going to sneak in?”

  Lex shouldered her bag and grinned. “I’m
not.” She bent over Driggs to kiss him, slipping Bone’s key into his pocket for safekeeping in case she ran into trouble. “See you later.”

  “Okay, muffin,” he said robotically, his eyes glued to the screen as he smooched the air. “Be safe and so forth.”

  ***

  Norwood and Heloise were waiting for her, scythes drawn as she stepped into the Bank. Kilda watched from behind the counter, her eyes as large as her flowery brooch. The poor woman hadn’t had much to do since the tourist season ended, but Norwood and Heloise still made her stay at work until curfew.

  “Hi, everyone,” Lex said to them in a steady voice. Confidence was key. She reached into her bag. “I just came to—”

  “Hold it right there!” Heloise yelled.

  Lex slowly raised her hand, revealing a can of cranberry sauce she had bought for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving dinner. “Just dropping this off for Kilda,” she lied. “It’s from Uncle Mort.”

  Norwood scowled. “I don’t care if it’s from the goddamned Pilgrims. You’re not supposed to be here.”

  Lex snuck a glance at Kilda, who gave her a small wink. Kilda had always had a soft spot for the Juniors, who hadn’t been there long enough to develop the deep-seated irritation that most other citizens of Croak had built up toward her. Plus, she had a big crush on Uncle Mort.

  “I told her to come!” Kilda said, her jolly voice not faltering for a second as she grabbed a gigantic bowl of potpourri and dragged it across the counter until it was directly beneath Norwood and Heloise. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking! I must be—ha!” She crushed a handful of Amnesia-soaked rose petals into their noses. A glassy look settled over both their faces. “Go sit on the couch!” she instructed them. They did.

  Kilda looked at Lex. “How can I help?”

  “You just did,” Lex said, thoroughly impressed at her foresight. Those things must have been highly concentrated for them to have an effect on Grims. “But I also need to take a look around. Is that all right?”

  “For now!” Kilda wrung her hands. “They won’t remember a thing, but it won’t last long, so you’ll have to hurry!”

  Lex briefly assessed the foyer, looking under the couches and skimming the brochures in the rack. From there she jumped behind the counter and pawed through Kilda’s desk, but all she found was a bunch of papers, files, bowls of sticky candy, and a fancy letter opener shaped like a sword—which, for all she knew, was the neutralizer. How was she supposed to know when she’d found what she was looking for if she had no idea what it was?

  “Kilda, have you ever heard of something hidden inside the Bank?” she asked. “Something important?”

  Kilda stroked her chin. “There’s the tunnel under the porch, but it’s just a passageway! There’s nothing in there!”

  Lex assessed her remaining options. The hub was full of working graveyard shifters; she couldn’t go in there without getting tackled by a team of Senior Etceteras, so she decided to forgo it for now. Instead she made her way toward the flight of stairs that led up to the Afterlife and lightly knocked on the door.

  Wicket answered a few moments later. “Whoa!” she said. “How did you get here?”

  “Lies and trickery. Can I come in?”

  “Sure. I knew you’d make it sooner or later.” She made a rude gesture at the floor, in the direction of the hub. “Suck it, bastards!”

  Wicket’s pain and outrage over Roze’s death had morphed into a fervent desire to overthrow Norwood and Heloise. She’d decided—along with a little encouragement from Roze herself, now in the Afterlife—that the best way to do it was to become a double agent, to gain Norwood’s trust and use it to elicit classified information. Which she happily passed on to Uncle Mort.

  Lex told her what happened, relaxing now that she was in friendly territory. “I’m looking for something,” she said. “Ever see anything weird up here? Something that doesn’t belong?”

  Wicket considered this. “Not that I can think of.”

  Lex ducked into the Lair to snoop around, but she emerged empty-handed. She leaned against the wall, thinking quickly. “I have it on good authority that there’s something hidden in the Bank that could be . . . beneficial. To our cause.” She picked a leaf off the potted plant and shredded it nervously. “But it couldn’t be in the hub—too many people around. There’s the basement, which I’ve never seen—”

  “Just used for storage,” Wicket said. “That’s what I’ve heard.”

  “And I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary in the foyer, so all that’s left is . . .” She trailed off and dropped the leaf shards as her eyes landed on the vault. “Oh, crap on a spatula.”

  Wicket’s eyes widened. “You think it’s in the Afterlife?”

  Lex sighed. “It’s gotta be. That’s the best hiding place there is. But it’s so huge in there! And it’s not like I can touch anything. How in the hell am I supposed to find it?”

  “I don’t know,” Wicket said, swinging the vault door open. “Go find out.”

  Lex was surprised. “You sure? It’s against Norwood’s rules.”

  Wicket folded her arms. “You think I give a rat’s ass about Norwood’s rules? Besides, if he’s passed out downstairs, he won’t find out until much later. I’ll tell him the rotten Junior punk hit me. He’ll love that.”

  Lex gave her a thankful smile, plunged inside—

  And immediately forgot about the hidden whatever-it-was as Cordy tackled her. Or tried to. In actuality, they just repelled each other and landed on their butts in the fluff. “Happy Thanksgiving, Sis!”

  “Cordy!” Lex stood up and looked around. “Edgar! And—oh my God, Kloo! Where have you guys been?”

  They shot Lex a trio of tired smiles. “Traveling, hon!” said Kloo. She looked happy, Lex was glad to see. “We just got back.”

  “I ran into her on my way out of town,” Cordy said, “and it seemed like the only polite thing to do was ask her to come along.” She gave Edgar a peevish look. “Wish someone had given me the grand tour when I first got here.”

  “I would have,” he said, “but my walking stick was misplaced at the time. Would you have me traverse the unending realms of the eternal universe without my walking stick?”

  “Next time, I’m going to shove that walking stick where the Void don’t shine,” said Cordy under her breath, who had far less patience for the dead poet than Lex did. “But Lex, guess what! I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  “I’m sure you’ll love it,” said Edgar in a voice suggesting that he positively loathed it.

  “Hang on,” Lex said. This was getting weird. Everyone was far too cheerful, especially given the aftermath of the bombing and what Ayjay had done to himself. “Kloo—are you okay?”

  “Fine,” she said with a smile. “Takes a little getting used to, but I like it here. So many different ways people have died! Very interesting, from a medical perspective.”

  Lex raised an eyebrow. “I mean, about Ayjay,” she said. “We tried to stop him, but—”

  Cordy erupted into a loud and obviously fake coughing fit. Edgar began hauling Kloo toward the Void, dramatically itching his body. “Chickenpox is back,” he moaned. “Time for more calamine.”

  Kloo let out a sigh but let him lead her away. “We’ve been through this, Ed. You can’t get chickenpox more than once. Or, you know, when you’re already dead.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” he snipped. “I’m a miracle of modern science.”

  Lex watched them go. “What was that all about?”

  Cordy gave her a pained look. “She doesn’t remember Ayjay.”

  “Huh?”

  “Doesn’t make any sense, I know. He’s the one who Amnesia’d himself, right? That’s what Wicket told me. But when she got here, she had no memory of him at all. Croak, yes. All the other Juniors, Uncle Mort, even the failed initiation vote. But not Ayjay. It’s like someone just X-acto–knifed him out of her brain.”

  This disturbed Lex on a
level she didn’t even understand. “Has anything like that ever happened before?”

  “I don’t think so.” Cordy frowned. “I’ve been asking around, but everyone’s stumped. It’s this weird little anomaly that no one can explain—not even Grims, not even people who have been here for centuries.”

  Lex shuddered. What was going on with the Afterlife these days? First the vortexes, now this?

  “Anyway,” said Cordy, “we try not to talk about him around her. Besides, maybe it’s all for the best. Maybe it’ll be easier for her to move on, find someone new.” She grinned. “Like I did.”

  “You what?”

  “I told you, I have a surprise.” Cordy whistled. A figure materialized at the edge of the Void, then grew larger until it was standing in front of Lex, golden and bejeweled and nearly naked.

  He was about the same age as they were, but his eyes shone with an ancient wisdom. His feet were bare, as well as his chest, which was adorned with a huge golden necklace the likes of which Lex had never seen back on earth. The sheen coming from his caramel-colored skin made it seem as if he was glowing. Lex studied his face. His teeth were so blindingly white that she half expected an audible ding to sound when he smiled. She was pretty sure she’d never met any godlike, rock-hard Egyptian guys before, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he looked sort of familiar . . .

  “Lex, this is Tut,” said Cordy. “My boyfriend.”

  Lex’s eyes bulged. “As in King Tut?”

  “The one and only,” the boy said, his voice deep and sonorous. He looked quite pleased with himself.

  “Isn’t he hot?” Cordy whispered.

  Lex looked at him again. He was holding up his shiny gold necklace and checking out his reflection.

  “He’s . . . something else,” said Lex. “Where did you find him?”

  “The Pyramids, where else? Poe was off dying of sunstroke or whatever, leaving me to dismount from Lumpy all by myself—which is not easy to do, I’ll have you know—and I almost fell to the ground, when someone caught me. Can I help it that that someone just so happened to be the most famous Pharaoh in all of history? Can I help it that he dropped dead at the oh-so-sexy age of eighteen? And can I help it that I got lost in his eyes? His hot, hot eyes?”