“Yeah, it’s me. Callie?”
Hyden stood, his gun still aimed. “Why are you here, Trax?”
“Hyden,” he said. “You mean you can’t guess?”
Michael remained crouched behind his shrub, slightly behind Trax. I suspected Trax hadn’t seen him.
“I have to know something, Trax,” I said. “Did you kill Helena?”
I lowered my gun, but it was still in my hands.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you worked for my father,” Hyden said.
“I worked for the Old Man,” Trax said. “The Old Man. And for old time’s sake, I came out here on my own—Brockman has no idea—to warn you.”
“Warn us about what?” I asked.
Trax came closer to me, his hands still raised, but lower. “Warn you that it’s dangerous in there.”
With one swift move he pulled a gun out of his pants, hooked his arm around my shoulders, locking my arms, and pointed the gun at Hyden.
“Drop yours,” Trax said.
Hyden knelt and put his gun on the ground.
“Get your hands up,” Trax said to Hyden. “Where’s the other Metal?”
“Never mind him, what about you?” Hyden said. “You killed Helena, didn’t you?”
“Tinnenbaum ordered me to. Because your father ordered him to.” Trax tilted his head toward Hyden. “She was going to bring big trouble.”
Trax started pulling me backward. Toward his jeep. I couldn’t aim my gun anywhere but down. Could I aim for his foot? Or would I just shoot mine?
“She would have jeopardized everything,” Trax said. “He couldn’t have that.”
I twisted my torso, trying to get free. “So the Old Man ordered her killed?” I asked.
Trax stopped. “The Old Man?” He looked at me. “You don’t know who the Old Man really is, do you?”
“Brockman,” I said. I figured the more I could keep Trax talking, the better.
Trax laughed. “No, but you’re close. Brockman is the Old Man’s father.”
I squinted. What was he talking about?
“Brockman is a Middle,” I said. “He can’t be the Old Man’s father. He is the Old Man.”
I looked to Hyden, expecting him to chime in, but he just stood there, quiet. Silence hung in the night air.
“Why would you say that?” I asked Trax.
“Hyden knows what I’m talking about,” Trax said. “Tell her who the Old Man is.” He nodded to Hyden. “Just who is that masked man?”
None of this was registering with me.
“Spell it out for her,” Trax said. “Or I will.”
The expression on Hyden’s face was like nothing I’d ever seen before. It was as if he just realized he’d swallowed poison, but it hadn’t yet hit his stomach. His lips started to move, but no sound came out.
“She can’t hear you,” Trax said in a singsong voice.
“It’s me,” Hyden said in a low voice, looking straight at me. “I’m the Old Man.”
A half laugh came out of my mouth. “You can’t be. You’re a Starter.”
“It was me,” Hyden said softly.
For a moment, my heart stopped. My brain stopped. And my ears must have quit as well because everything seemed muffled. I was not hearing this.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“She needs proof.” Trax pulled something out of his bag and threw it at Hyden.
It landed on the sand. I couldn’t tell what it was.
“Pick it up,” Trax commanded.
Hyden bent down and took it. When he held it in his hands, I recognized it. The Old Man’s mask.
“Put it on,” Trax said, still pointing his gun.
Hyden didn’t move. He stared at the mask in a way that reminded me of Hamlet and the skull.
Hyden, the Old Man? Couldn’t be. This was some trick that Trax had cooked up.
“He won’t put it on because it’ll prove what I’m saying. The mask is only biocompatible to his skin. He’s the only one who can activate it.” Trax pushed me closer to Hyden. “Put it on him,” he said to me.
I had to see. I took the mask out of Hyden’s hands. It didn’t look like Hyden. He held still while I slipped the strap over his head. The mold fit his features perfectly.
I held my breath for a moment.
“Just wait. It’ll glow all pretty-like,” Trax said.
The mask lit up. That chilling blue light. An image of a face formed pixel by pixel. Then it changed to form another face.
“And there’s the magic. The mask of a hundred thousand faces,” Trax said.
Hyden pushed a button in the front, in the bottom of the mask, near his neck.