The Book of Lies

15

Hundreds of People’s Choice Award–winning movies tell me this is when I’m supposed to shake a fist at the sky and yell, “Nooo! Timothy, how could you!?” But I know exactly how he could. His ethical apathy is why I approached him in the first place. And why I didn’t bat twice when he offered to sneak me inside the port instead of signing me in and getting a proper pass. I thought he was doing me a favor. All he was really doing was making sure nothing linked the two of us together. My heart constricts, like it’s being gripped by a fist. Dammit, when’d I get so blind? I glance at my dad and know the answer. The only good news is, I apparently wasn’t the only one Timothy was trying to keep hidden.

“Cal’s already seen it—you, me, all of it!” Timothy shouts at Ellis. “And what about the van!? What was your grand thinking there? Bring it out on the road and hope no one notices?”

“Watch your tone,” Ellis warns.

To my surprise, Timothy does, his shoulders shrinking just slightly.

“You said you just wanted the shipment,” Timothy adds through gritted teeth, fighting hard to stay calm. “Now you have far more than that.”

The pulsing blue lights pump like heartbeats from both sides. I’m tempted to run, but that won’t tell me what’s going on. On my right, in the front seat of the van, Ellis’s dog, protective of its master, growls at Timothy, whose gun is still trained on me. On my left, my father stares at Ellis, then Timothy, then back to Ellis.

Then he looks at me.

I see desperation every day. For the homeless, it overrides despair, depression, even fear. But when my dad’s wide eyes beg for help . . . I’ve seen that look before—all those years ago when the cops came and arrested him.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he blurts.

Across from us, Ellis pulls the cuff of his shirt out from the wrist of his uniform’s jacket, then flicks the safety on his gun. “I don’t care. We’ve waited over a century. I want my Book.”

Just behind me, my father puts a hand on my shoulder. There’s nothing tender about it. For the second time, I tell myself to run, but the way he’s gripping me—he needs the handhold to help him stand.

“All you had to do was leave the van downtown!” Timothy says to Ellis. “But with this— You know how much harder you just made this?” Timothy explodes, barely looking at us. This isn’t about me. Timothy is the same old Timothy. Just protecting his share. “Don’t you see? Now that he knows I’m working with— Sonuva—! You just wrecked my damn life!”

“He’s right,” I interrupt, knowing this isn’t a ride Timothy can afford to let me walk away from. Time to work the weak spots. “But if I disappear, they’ll go talk to all my friends, co-workers . . . even former co-workers,” I add, raising an eyebrow at Timothy. “You’ll get a call tomorrow morning.”

Timothy knows what I’m up to—he had the same hostage training with the same dumb tricks for getting the bad guys to fight among themselves—but that doesn’t mean it won’t work.

“You don’t even see it, do you?” Ellis asks, sounding far more comfortable than he should be. “I’ve already won.”

“Not if there’s a manhunt for Cal’s killer!” Timothy shoots back as the blue lights continue their assault. “You promised me no risk at all!”

“No, I promised you an easy reward.”

While they argue, I work the telescoping baton hidden in my sleeve toward the inside of my forearm. I’ve heard enough. Time to let actions speak louder than—

“Be very careful about your next move,” Ellis warns as he points his gun at my face. I freeze. He’s clearly planning to pull the trigger, but he’s not quite ready to do it yet. “I can see the baton, Calvin.”

Next to him, Timothy shakes his head, his anger now exploding. “This was so stupidly easy and— Dammit! How could you be so stupid!?”

The dog barks. But Ellis, who’s now close enough that I spot the odd red thimble-shaped nozzle on his gun, is calmer than ever. “It’ll work out fine,” he says.

“For who?” Timothy challenges. “For you?”

Ellis nods, raising his eyebrows. “You were right about the manhunt. But there’s no manhunt if I give them Cal’s killer.” Without another word, he points his gun at Timothy’s neck. I want to jump forward, but my body steps back.

“I have twins! For God’s sake!” Timothy says in horror.

Ellis grins. “It is for God’s sake.”

Fttt.

The dog barks again. A tiny fleck of blood hits my cheek. And Timothy falls to the ground.

Behind us, at least a mile or two up the road, a set of faint white eyes blink open. There’s a car back there. Coming right at us.