Alice nodded, but I could tell she wasn't persuaded. Against my better judgment, I asked if she had a theory. For a long moment she didn't answer, staring at the wall art. Then she looked me in the eye. I nearly flinched at what I found there.
"I think we're dead," Alice whispered. "I think the gas killed us all."
She turned and walked away.
My mind recoiled from her pronouncement, but I didn't have time to process. Another crowd was forming down the block. Toby and Mike appeared at its heart, dragging a struggling captive between them.
All other thoughts fled.
I turned and ran.
40
MIN
The place reeked.
Not surprising for a sanitation plant, but that didn't make our job any less awful. I wasn't even sure what we were supposed to be doing. "Inspect" the waste treatment facility? Okay, sure. None of us had a clue how these systems worked.
I caught dark looks as we forced the door, everyone's noses crinkling at the stench. The others blamed me for this terrible assignment, and I was sure they were right. Ethan had sent me to the sewers on purpose.
Akio and Finn, at least, kept their opinions to themselves, tying bandanas around their noses as we wandered the rusty complex. The boys were good friends even though they looked like polar opposites-Akio short and slender, with spiky black hair and traditional Japanese features, Finn towering like Thor walking among us, tall and strong, with piercing blue eyes and golden hair. Finn had a rudimentary knowledge of plumbing from helping his father install sprinkler systems, and was doing his best to confirm that Fire Lake toilets would keep flushing.
Charlie was much less circumspect. "This is the worst," he grumbled for the hundredth time. "I've never done anything to Ethan! I'm even part of the security team now. How come I got sent down to Piss River?"
"Why do you think?" Kristen jerked her head at me, six feet of quivering indignation as she stood with her arms crossed. "She might as well be an anchor."
I smiled tightly. "He put you in my group, Kristen. You must not be a favorite either."
She blinked, as if the idea had never occurred to her. I moved deeper into the building, unwilling to trade barbs. This was a terrible job that we didn't know how to do. A lap around the complex should suffice. If not, Ethan could come back and inspect the works himself.
Suddenly, the door behind us rocketed open. We all jumped as Noah burst inside.
I sprinted over to him. He could only be looking for me, and it wasn't going to be good.
"Min!" Noah ran a hand over his sweaty forehead. "You have to come. They got Tack!"
Shit. Shit shit shit.
"What'd he do?" I raced past him to his Tahoe in the parking lot. Noah jumped into the driver's seat and threw the SUV in gear. We tore out, heading for Main Street. "Toby and Mike were dragging him toward the church. It looked . . . It looked bad."
"What did he do?"
"I don't know! I just saw him being manhandled." Noah's eyes darted to me, then back to the road. "I . . . I have a guess, though." He told me about the bank's new wall art.
"Damn it!" I squeezed my eyes. Tack had been uncooperative from the start, trash-talking Ethan to anyone who'd listen. Most of our classmates just laughed-Tack being Tack-but now he'd pushed things too far.
I should've seen this coming.
A crowd had already gathered. As I fired up the church steps, classmates whispered and pointed. Not a good sign. Inside, Tack had been forced into a chair beside the lectern. Toby and Mike stood behind him, making sure he didn't escape. Ethan was leaning against the pulpit with his arms crossed.
"What the hell is this?" I stormed to the foot of the steps. Noah trailed me, stopping at the front row of pews. "Ethan, let him go."
The crowd slipped in behind me. Maybe forty in all.
"We were waiting for Tack's counsel to arrive," Ethan said, straight-faced. "He's accused of slacking, but we're not monsters here. He gets an attorney."
I wanted to strangle Ethan. "I'm not an attorney. This isn't a court. And you're certainly not a judge. So stop being an idiot and let him go. Now."
"An advocate, then." Ethan cleared his throat. "Thomas Russo is accused of abandoning his team and failing to do his job. He also probably drew that picture of me, which is vandalism."
Hate seeped from Tack's eyes. "Of course I drew it, you jackass!"
"Oh, neat! A confession. You guys think he captured my good side?"
Scattered snickers. I glared at Ethan. Laughing at himself. Playing to a crowd. He seemed completely in control of the room. Strong. Persuasive. Self-possessed.
Formidable.
And he's putting my best friend on trial.
Tack jabbed a finger at Ethan, his temper slipping past the point of common sense. "You don't tell me what to do! I don't work for you, and I'm not collecting firewood like some kind of indentured servant. Get your own sticks."
Ethan's cheek twitched, and he absently brushed it. Tack tried to rise, but was forced back down by Mike and Toby. The silence stretched, became suffocating. I needed to intervene, and fast.
"Ethan-" I began, but he spoke over me, turning to address the crowd.
"If we don't work together, nothing will get done. Therefore, failure to do your assignment is a punishable offense."
Tack sneered, then laughed maniacally. "I don't have to do your bidding, asshole. I can do whatever I want. We all can. This whole damn thing is a sham, and I'm done playing. If the others want to be your errand boys and girls, whatever. I'm out."
Ethan shook his head, explained as if to a child. "There is no 'out.' Not until we know what happened in the square, where everyone went, and what's happening beyond the valley. We could be trapped up here a long time, and we can't have people running around, taking whatever they want and not sharing the rest."
"You're the one taking everything," I countered loudly. "First the grocery store, and now you're gathering up all the essentials. If anyone isn't sharing, it's you."
"Rationing isn't stealing-everyone will share. But I won't leave our largest food source unguarded for people to ransack."
Tack snorted. "Pretending you own your dad's supermarket. What a chump."
I spoke fast. "Tack's upset because those guys grabbed him on the street. Anyone would be." I swallowed bile, forcing myself to continue. "We'll follow your lead, because it is better if we all work together. Tack agrees with that, even if he's too worked up right now to admit it."
Tack shot me a hurt look, but I only had eyes for Ethan.
He seemed to consider my words. "Okay, here's the deal. I'll forget the graffiti, but Tack has to clean it up. Afterward, he does two days in Watson's lockup for ditching his group. Bread and water only-let him think about whether he wants to be a team player."
Tack tried to stand again. "No way! You can't do that!"
My mind raced. Ethan was serious. I knew he'd secured the sheriff's office and the two holding cells inside. He really could hold Tack prisoner if he wanted to.
Noah shifted uncomfortably on the pew. Whispers spread as people realized Ethan's sentence was real, and that he could do it to anyone.
"Ethan, come on." I adopted a pleading tone, forcing myself to play along with this sick charade. "That's way too harsh for a first offense. Nobody knew that would be the penalty."
"It's called deterrence, Melinda." Ethan stole a glance at Derrick and Sarah. "We have to set an example. Tack will be fine if he just shuts up and accepts his punishment." He gave Tack a condescending look. "Can you do that, Thomas? Can you be a good boy?"
"Go to hell," Tack fumed. "Everyone here thinks you're dumber than crap, I'm just the only one willing to say it. None of these people like you, Ethan. You're a loser and a fraud. Just a redneck piece of trash like me. Kill yourself."
Silence like the total vacuum of space.
Hands covered mouths. No one moved an inch.
Ethan's face went slack. He shook his head sharply, as if trying to dispel something. Then he strode forward and punched Tack between the eyes.
"Ethan, stop!" I sprang up the steps, diving between them. Ethan shoved me aside as though I were a kitten, thrusting me into Toby's arms. Noah shot to his feet, but was intercepted by Tucker and Josh. The linemen shook their heads slowly.
"Easy now, Min," Toby whispered into my ear, his tone almost apologetic as he pinned my arms to my sides. "You can't help that boy." I tried to pull away but couldn't. Ethan was leaning over Tack, who was sprawled on his back with blood dripping from his nose. "Anything else to say, Thomas?"
Tack jerked upright, spat a red gobbet full into Ethan's face.
Ethan's head jerked back. He straightened, wiping his cheek with his sleeve. "Just like your old man." Then he laughed strangely-a short, high-pitched giggle. No one laughed with him.
Tack rose unsteadily, eyeing the larger boy. He'd gone too far, and knew it.
"I've changed my mind," Ethan announced. "Tack won't go to jail. That's a punishment for slacking, not treason."