I reached the first stack, stepped on it with my right foot, landed on the second stack with my left, then hit the third with my right. I felt like I’d just been plunged into a real-life video game. As I leaped to the top of the wall, I let the bricks topple back down behind me.
The other side of the wall led to more backyards. I jumped down, then cut around a house and onto the street, sprinting full out, like Death himself was on my tail. I ran until I couldn’t even breathe, and then ran some more. Finally, I stopped and risked a glance over my shoulder. There was no sign of Bowdler. But I knew I couldn’t stay in the city. They’d be searching for me, swarming through the city like wasps from a busted nest. I had no idea how many people Bowdler had at his disposal. I needed to get out of Philadelphia. But first, I had to become someone else.
elsewhere …
AS MARTIN HEADED down the street, he wondered what Trash’s parents had done to bring this sort of trouble to their doorstep. And he wondered whether he should try to warn them. He had no way to get in touch with them. But there was still something he could do.
When he reached town, he called 911 from a pay phone and told the dispatcher, “There’s a car parked across the street from eight-thirty-four Harbor Road. There’s a guy in it. He has a gun.”
He wasn’t sure that was true, though it was hard to imagine that the guy wasn’t armed. He probably had a gun, a knife or two, and maybe a small atom bomb. At least the police would come and check him out.
Having done all he could, Martin headed for a corner diner to put some food in his grumbling stomach. He sat at the counter and wolfed down a grilled cheese sandwich. He was dying to eat more, but he wanted to save as much of the cash as possible. The waitress told him where he could catch a bus that would take him a good part of the way toward Cheater’s house. She was so nice, he felt bad about leaving her a crummy tip. But he knew she was proud of her daughter, so he asked her if she had any kids and listened politely while she bragged.
Once he got off the bus, he only had to walk two more miles. This time, someone was home. A kid who looked like an older, bigger, version of Cheater answered the door. He was eating an apple.
“Is Dennis here?” Martin asked.
The guy shook his head, chewed for a moment, then said, “Nope. The stupid jerk got himself beat up.”
“What?”
The guy shrugged and wiped a dribble of juice from his chin. “My dipwad little brother managed to get the snot stomped out of himself in some fleabag motel. Not very smart. Our parents are on a trip, so guess who had to deal with it? I’m always getting stuck.” He started to close the door.
Martin put his hand on the door. “Where is he?”
“Philly. That hospital where they treat kids with thick heads.”
“I’m a friend of his. Martin Anderson. He ever mention me?” Martin hoped Cheater’s brother would at least invite him in. Or maybe offer him a ride to Philly.
The guy shook his head, then wrinkled up his nose. “Man, you really smell. Ever heard of soap?” He shut the door.
“I guess I’m going to Philly,” Martin said.
radical disguise
I FLED TOWARD the train station, scanning the stores I passed in search of a new identity. I finally found a place that sold extreme hair color in a can. I’d learned something from the pajamas—you can try to avoid stares, or you can force people to look away. I couldn’t think of any easy way to avoid getting recognized, so I figured I’d try to make myself so radical that anyone looking for Eddie Thalmayer wouldn’t give me a second glance.
Red, green, black, or white? My hair was light brown. I went for black. I grabbed three fake nose rings, some hair gel, a spiked wrist band, and a Ramones t-shirt—probably more stuff than I needed, but I didn’t want to waste time thinking it over. I paid, headed for the door, then froze. Carrying the stuff wouldn’t do me any good.
“You have a bathroom?” I asked the girl at the counter.
She shook her head. “It’s not for public use.”
I gave her my best lost-puppy look. I also gave her lungs the tiniest squeeze, so she’d feel her heart flutter and her breath speed up. It was a cheap trick, but I didn’t have much choice.
Her expression softened. “Oh, why not. It’s in the back.”
“Thanks.” I went into the bathroom and transformed myself into every parent’s nightmare. To make the change complete, I hunched over, like the whole world was pulling me down with more force than I could bear. It was a posture I was familiar with.
“Thanks again,” I said to the girl when I came back out.