Breathless (11 page)

"It's probably Toby," said Jason.

"At the front door?" I said. Toby knew we almost always used the door in the kitchen.

Why would he come to the front door?

Jason looked alarmed. "Doesn't anyone you know use the front door?"

"Not really," I said. "Maybe it's a salesman."

"At this time of night?" Jason said. "Maybe we should just get out of here."

The knock came again, a little more insistent.

"And go where?" I asked. "Why?"

Jason swallowed. His eyes darted around the room, looking for danger or an exit or whatever it was he looked for when he was scared. I hadn't seen him do that in a while.

"You're paranoid," I told him. "I'll get rid of whoever it is." I got up and started for the living room.

"Azazel, wait!" said Jason. "You don't know who that could be."

But I was already crossing the living room to the front door. I swung it open. On the other side was a young man. He looked to be somewhere in his early twenties. His hair was short cropped against his head. He wore an expensive-looking jacket. His smile was warm and unassuming.

"Hello?" I said.

"Sorry to bother you this late," he said, smiling. He had a British accent.

"Can I help you?" I asked, feeling suspicious of the man.

The man shrugged. "Well, maybe. I hope so." He rubbed his hands together briskly.

"It's a little bit cold out here. Would you mind if I came in for a moment?"

"Uh..." I didn't want him to come in. "I'm here alone," I said.

"Really?" he said. "I thought I heard voices."

"It was the television," I said.

"Don't hear it now," he said. His voice sounded friendly, but there was something about this line of questioning. Something threatening.

"I switched it off." My suspiciousness about this man was growing.

"Well," he said. "I promise to be a gentleman." He held up his hands. "I'll keep both of these where you can see them at all times." He grinned at me again.

I didn't answer, but he pushed past me and into the house.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded. He was inside my house! How was I supposed to get him out?

"This will only take a moment," he said. I wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face.

"I think I want you to leave my house," I said.

"I just want to ask you a question," he said. He was looking around me at the living room.

"I didn't ask you to come in," I said. I was starting to feel scared. What if he didn't leave?

The man took several steps into the room. I tried to step in front of him, to block him.

For some reason, I didn't want him going into the dining room where he might see Jason.

"Please leave," I said.

"I've lost my brother, you see," he said. "He's run away. I'm looking for him. I miss him very much."

"I haven't seen any British boys in this town ever," I said. "Now, please get out of my house." He wasn't leaving. He wasn't listening to me at all.

The man walked around me and into the dining room.

"I'm calling the police if you don't leave right now!" I nearly screamed, running after him.

But Jason wasn't in the dining room. My bag of chips and bowl of salsa sat at the table, all alone.

The man looked around. His shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry," he said to me. "I shouldn't have barged into your house. I just thought I heard..." He trailed off. "I guess I was mistaken."

"You shouldn't have barged in," I said. "And you need to leave."

"Okay, I will," he said. "Just...I have a picture, with my number? Might I leave it? If you see him, you could call me? I really do just want to help him."

"Get out," I said.

He took a picture out of his jacket pocket anyway and handed it to me. "And by the way, he's not British," he said. "He's my half-brother. He was raised in the States."

I took the picture and ushered him towards the door.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I'm really sorry."

I pushed him out and slammed the door after him. I locked it. And the deadbolt. And then I slumped against the door in relief. My heart was pounding away in my chest. I had been so scared.

Jason ducked out of the dining room, brandishing the baseball bat from the kitchen like a weapon. "He's gone?" he asked.

I nodded.

"This is bad," said Jason. "This is very, very bad."

I looked down at the picture the man had given me. It was of Jason. He was a little younger. His hair was shorter. And he was smiling. His smile was radiant and free as if he didn't have a care in the world. I'd never seen Jason smile like that. But it was definitely Jason in the picture.

"Do you know that man?" I asked.

Jason clutched the bat, looking furious. He was shaking, all over. I'd never seen him so out of control.

"Jason? Is he your brother?"

"I don't have any brothers," Jason bit out. He stalked to the window in the living room. Pulled the curtain back a little and peered outside. "Fuck," he said.

"Jason, who was that man?"

He lowered the bat. Rubbed his face with one hand. "He was a very dangerous man,"

he said. "A very, very dangerous..." He stopped and looked at me. "Call your parents.

They need to come home right now."

Terrified, I did what he said. Within ten minutes, my mom and dad, both looking very worried, were standing inside the kitchen with the two of us.

My mother gathered me into her arms. "Azazel, what happened?" she asked, her voice high pitched. "I've never heard you sound so scared. Sweetie, what happened?"

Jason was pacing the floor, his face a mask of anger. He didn't look like a seventeen-year-old boy. He looked like a commanding officer in the army. "Someone showed up here," he said. "Just like I was afraid someone would. I can't believe I was so stupid. I can't believe I thought I could just live here like I was normal and that nothing would happen."

"Jason, slow down," said my father.

Jason stopped pacing and pointed a finger at my father. "You have to keep all the doors locked all the time," he ordered. "And you can't let Azazel out of your sight. Or your wife. Or the other guys. You have to keep them here, and you can't let anyone in."

"Wait a second," shouted my dad. I was stunned. I'd never heard my father yell before. My parents weren't exactly yelling kind of parents.

My mother released me and went to my father, touching his arm. "Daniel," she said.

He shrugged her off.

Jason lowered his hand. He took a shuddering breath. I could tell he was trying to pull himself together.

"Now," said my dad, "you're going to start at the beginning, and you're going to tell me what happened."

Jason didn't say anything.

I moved forward and handed my dad the picture the man had given me. "A man came here looking for Jason," I said. "He pushed his way into the house, and I was afraid he wouldn't leave. Jason said he's dangerous."

My dad studied the picture. "Did this man threaten you, Zaza?"

"No," I said. "He was polite."

"Did you know the man, Jason?" my dad asked.

Jason didn't say anything.

"Jason," said my father sharply.

Jason nodded. "I know him."

"Who is he?" asked my dad.

"That's not important," said Jason.

"You're telling me to lock up my family, and you say it's not important for me to know who he is? I think it's important," said my dad.

"Just trust me," said Jason. "I've seen what this man can do."

"What can he do?" my father asked. His voice was steadily rising again. I didn't think I'd ever seen my dad this angry.

"I—" Jason broke off. He hung his head. Stared at the tile floor of the kitchen.

Quietly, "I don't want to talk about it."

My mother put her hand on my father's arm again. "Daniel," she said, "maybe we should all just calm down. Now, I know it's a little early, but we're all excited. Maybe we should go to bed. We can talk about this tomorrow after we've had some time to think."

"Jodi, I need to know who this man is," said my dad. "I don't think we should just sleep on it."

"You can't keep pushing Jason," said my mom. "Look at him. He's very upset."

"I'm fine," said Jason. He looked up at us, and his face was a carefully controlled mask. He looked calm, collected. "I think sleeping on it might be a good idea, though."

Really? Jason had been so angry. Why didn't he want to talk more? I didn't think he'd convinced my dad of the danger he seemed to think we were in. I'd expected him to push and push until he got his way. Why was he just giving up?

"See?" said my mom. "Let's just all calm down."

My father took a sharp breath. "Fine," he said. "But first thing tomorrow morning, before school, we're getting this straightened out."

Jason nodded. "Mr. Jones, I'm so sorry I brought this on your family. You've all been wonderful to me. I never meant for anything like this to happen. I promise we'll talk about it tomorrow."

But the next morning, Jason was gone.

From: Alfred Norwich

Subject: News?

Hallam,

You mentioned you might have news when you checked in by phone yesterday. What have you found? And where are you? We can't find a trace of you in New York. Have you left? Please contact me as soon as possible by any means necessary.

Yours in pursuit of the Purpose,

Alfred

Nobody knew where Jason was.

Sheriff Damon was in our dining room, talking to my parents. I had just missed the bus to school, and I hadn't heard from Toby since last night. I had no idea if he was going to pick me up or not. I didn't even know if I was going to make it school. My mom had sent the guys out the door this morning. She'd even fed them a balanced breakfast. I had stayed behind in case the sheriff wanted to ask me some questions.

Right now, I was in the living room. I could hear my parents talking to Sheriff Damon. I didn't know if I was supposed to be listening to them or not.

"A few other people in town say they spoke to a British man with a picture of Jason,"

said Sheriff Damon. "They probably sent him here."

It all made sense now. Why Jason had given up so easily when he was talking to my dad last night. Jason had been planning on leaving. He wouldn't stay here if he knew he was endangering us. I knew that much about him. I just wished I understood why he was running and what kind of danger he was in.

"Do we have any idea who this man is?" asked my mom.

No sound.

"None?" asked my mother, sounding desperate. Maybe Sheriff Damon had shaken his head.

"I'm sorry, Jodi," said the sheriff. "I know how important this boy is. To all of us."

Important? Weird way to put it.

"For all we know, then," said my dad, "this man got into the house last night and took Jason away."

Oh. I hadn't even considered that. I was sure that Jason had run away. But my dad was right. Jason could have been captured. Taken against his will. I gaped in horror at the thought of it.

"It's possible," said Sheriff Damon. "But let's not sell Jason short. You didn't see the number he did on the Nelson boy. I don't think anyone could have gotten Jason out of here without waking you all up."

He was right. Jason would have put up a fight. And Jason could fight. I knew that. I'd seen it first hand.

"Then we think he ran away," said my mother.

"Yes," said Sheriff Damon.

"Oh no," said my mom.

But Jason could take care of himself, couldn't he? He wouldn't end up hurt or...worse.

Would he? I couldn't stand this. I was suddenly very angry with Jason for leaving like this. Didn't he know how worried we'd all be? Didn't he think anyone else cared about him?

"Don't worry," said Sheriff Damon. "Finding Jason is my first priority. I've got all three of the deputies out there, and we're alerting the entire community by the radio and the internet to be on the look out for him."

"But Jim," said my mom, "this county is so big. He could slip out."

"We can't let him do that," said my dad. "We can't let him escape."

Escape? That was another strange way of putting things. Or maybe I was just distraught. I hoped that we could find Jason, but my mom was right. Jason could get away so easily. We didn't even know when he left or what kind of head start he had on us.

"We'll find him," said Sheriff Damon. "I'm doing everything in my power."

I wandered into the dining room. "I hope you do find him," I said. "I'm so worried."

"Azazel!" said my mother. "Have you been out there the whole time?"

"Yeah," I said.

"You missed the bus," she said.

"You told me to stay to talk to Sheriff Damon," I said.

"Oh," she said. "Right. Well, I guess I'll have to take you to school. Or is Toby coming?" But she didn't ask me that. She asked the sheriff.

"Aren't you going to school, Dad?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I'm taking the day off to help search for Jason."

"I want to help!" I said. "Please?"

"No," said my dad. "You need to go to school. And maybe you've been spending too much time with Jason, anyway." He turned to the sheriff. "Get Toby here."

"Don't worry," said Sheriff Damon. "He's on his way."

So Toby and I weren't fighting anymore? I was so confused. I couldn't even remember why we'd been fighting last night. But I wasn't sure if I wanted to see Toby. For some reason, I didn't think he'd like it that I was so concerned about Jason. Maybe I should—

But right then, Toby appeared at the kitchen door, dangling his truck keys.

"Azazel!" he exclaimed. He threw open the door and ran to me, gathering me in his arms.

Wow. This was weird. Wasn't Toby mad at me for some reason?

"I can't believe I dropped you off here, and that man almost got to you!" he said, covering my face with kisses. "If anything had happened to you, I never would have forgiven myself."

Me? "I'm fine," I said. It was Jason who wasn't fine. But I didn't say that out loud.

I pushed out of Toby's arms. I gave my parents a pleading look. "I don't think I can concentrate on school today," I said. "Please let me help look for Jason."