The Secret to Lying (17 page)

johnnyrotten:
Hey! I’ve been waiting for days, hoping you’d log on.

ghost44:
The ice man speaketh.

johnnyrotten:
Where’ve you been?

ghost44:
Sick. I think we must be twins. After you jumped in the pond, I became ill. Very ill. But unlike some, I still had to take my finals.

johnnyrotten:
Before you turn all Kermit with envy, you should know that I had to take my finals. I just finished them.

ghost44:
Congratulations. I’ll send you a muffin.

johnnyrotten:
Thanks.

ghost44:
You doing okay?

johnnyrotten:
Please, don’t start. I already went through this hug-fest-don’t-hate-yourself thing with Mr. Funt.

ghost44:
Right, because it’s totally idiotic for people to wonder if you’re okay.

johnnyrotten:
Did I mention that Mr. Funt tried to hug me?

ghost44:
People worry about you.

johnnyrotten:
Why? Because I don’t dress like everyone else? Because I have purple hair? Because I got bored and took a swim?

ghost44:
Because people care about you.

johnnyrotten:
Shh . . . I hear a *Lifetime* sound track coming on.

ghost44:
I’m serious, James. How are you?

johnnyrotten:
Let’s see. . . . My hands are numb, if that’s what you’re asking. I think they got frostbit from the pond. It feels like I’m wearing gloves all the time.

ghost44:
And?

johnnyrotten:
And getting suspended sucked. Winter break is long enough as is — not that I miss school so much. It’s just I don’t fit in at home anymore. As if I ever fit. It’s so claustrophobic here.

ghost44:
Tell me about it. My mom knocks on my door five times a day and attempts to shove snickerdoodles and spinach down my throat. I’m like a pig she’s fattening for slaughter.

johnnyrotten:
Snickerdoodles and spinach?

ghost44:
She thinks if I ate some holiday cheer with iron, I’d be great. She even threw a few red peppers into the spinach to make it look more “Christmassy.”

johnnyrotten:
Yum.

ghost44:
So how are the holiday festivities at your house?

johnnyrotten:
Jess is driving out to rescue me. The rents will probably freak when they see her.

ghost44:
I thought you two were over.

johnnyrotten:
I never said that.

ghost44:
You said you weren’t into her.

johnnyrotten:
She’s just a friend who wants to save me from my supreme boredom and impending mental breakdown.

ghost44:
Does she know she’s *just a friend*?

johnnyrotten:
She invited herself out. What could I say? It’s better than being alone.

ghost44:
You’re not alone. You’ve got me.

johnnyrotten:
Great — my very own ghost to haunt me.

ghost44:
I prefer to think of myself as a brain poltergeist — a mental mischief maker and disturber of thoughts.

johnnyrotten:
As nice as that sounds, it’s not exactly the same as being with someone.

ghost44:
If that’s the way you feel, I’ll go haunt someone else.

johnnyrotten:
Wait! I take it back. I like to be haunted. Really. It’s the best thing that’s happened to me all week.

ghost44:
Better than Jess coming over?

johnnyrotten:
That’s a tough one. I mean, Jess hasn’t come over yet, so I can’t exactly compare the two. She’s driving out on Tuesday.

ghost44:
You are so clueless. That was completely, one hundred percent the wrong answer. Now I have to haunt you.

johnnyrotten:
Is this when maggots start squirming out of the chicken I ate or my Curious George doll attacks me?

ghost44:
Nope. That sort of thing is the work of far lesser ghosts. Your punishment is that you have to listen to a story.

johnnyrotten:
Sounds terrifying.

ghost44:
It’s a very tragic story.

johnnyrotten:
I like tragedies.

ghost44:
Figures. Now, pay attention. . . .

ghost44:
Once upon a time, there was a little birdie who waited so long to fly south for the winter that when he finally took off, he got caught in an ice storm. He tried to keep flying, but his wings froze and he fell into a field.

johnnyrotten:
Splat!

ghost44:
Not yet. See, the little birdie was lucky — he landed in a pile of cow poo, which cushioned the impact.

johnnyrotten:
Hold on. You said *poo*! That’s the dirtiest word I’ve ever seen you write.

ghost44:
You know me: I cuss like a sailor.

johnnyrotten:
Poo-poodle-holy-poopies!

ghost44:
May I continue the story now?

johnnyrotten:
By all means.

ghost44:
Well, the cow poo was so fresh, its steamy warmth thawed the little birdie’s wings.

johnnyrotten:
Hooray for poo!

ghost44:
So it would seem. But . . . just as the little birdie started to feel good again, a cat came along, pulled him out, and ate him. Know what the moral is?

johnnyrotten:
Cats eat shitty food?

ghost44:
There are two, actually. One is that sometimes being in poo isn’t such a bad thing. And the other is that sometimes those who get you out of poo aren’t your friends.

johnnyrotten:
Are you saying Jess might eat me?

ghost44:
I’m saying maybe you don’t need to be rescued. Maybe you should be alone right now so you can figure things out.

johnnyrotten:
Funny. Mr. Funt said something similar — about descending into darkness.

ghost44:
It’s only when it’s dark out that we can see the stars shine.

johnnyrotten:
I’m still waiting for the stars to shine. I feel so blind sometimes.

ghost44:
That’s because you are.

johnnyrotten:
What do you mean?

ghost44:
I don’t know, James. Sometimes I think I must be blind too.

I FELL ASLEEP THINKING ABOUT
what ghost44 and Mr. Funt had said — about
katabasis,
and darkness, and finding my true name. When I woke in the city, I headed for the elevator with renewed determination.

“About time you got back on the horse,” Nick said once I made it to the burrows.

Kiana helped me to my feet and adjusted the scarf that covered my face. The nightclub stood empty. A deafening buzz filled the air, punctuated by the clash of metal against metal.

“The battle’s already started,” Nick explained, leading us up a fire escape to the roof. “It’s time you choose a side.”

Nomanchulators, too numerous to count, filled the space between buildings. Their chittering had grown so loud it made my head numb. In their midst, fighting off their attacks, stood White Blade.

At first I thought the Nomanchulators would overwhelm him, but he used the narrow alley to his advantage, keeping them from surrounding him while he cut through their numbers. I watched from the roof, amazed. Even though White Blade was my enemy, I found myself hoping he’d beat back the deadening swarm.

“Now’s your chance,” Nick said. “Bind him while he’s distracted.”

“But he’s fighting them,” I replied. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“If he defeats them, he’ll become stronger.”

“Think about it, J.T.,” Kiana added. “Once he kills the Nomanchulators, what will he do to you?”

I felt my jaw, remembering how quickly White Blade had beaten me before. Next time, I might not be lucky enough to escape. “He’s not like the others, is he?” I asked.

“He’s a criminal,” Nick said.

“But not a demon?”

“Not exactly.”

I looked at Nick, but he didn’t say anything more. Kiana put her hand on my arm. “Only one of you can survive. You have to bind him.”

“And if I can’t?”

“You have to,” she repeated. “It’s the only way to win.”

White Blade cut through the swarm, pushing toward the Nomanchulator leader — a creature who stood twice as tall as the others, with spidery limbs and a grotesque mosquito mouth. Silver cable glinted at White Blade’s side. Tools of the trade. With one hand, he whipped the cable, snapping the end around the leader’s arm.

The huge Nomanchulator reared and shrieked. All at once, the swarm attacked, overwhelming White Blade. The cable slid through his hand, and the leader freed itself. I thought White Blade might be finished then, but his sword flashed faster than seemed possible, fending off the swarm.

“There’s not much time,” Kiana pressed. “Come on, J.T. Prove that you’re the one.”

“And then this will be over? I can do anything?”

She stared at me with a fierce, almost hungry look. “Then you’ll become what you’ve always dreamed of being.”

I drew my sword and jumped into the alley before I lost my nerve.

The swarm surrounded me as soon as I landed. I cut down three of the Nomanchulators closest to White Blade. He shot me a wary glance. Instead of fighting him, I helped him fend off the swarm. White Blade nodded, seeming to accept our alliance. We fought side by side, pushing back the Nomanchulators.

White Blade went after the leader again. He whipped his cable around the creature’s neck, and the huge Nomanchulator thrashed. I grabbed the cable and threw my weight against it to help him, but still we couldn’t hold the creature. The Nomanchulator fixed its dead black eyes on me, and a numbing chill filled my body. Even together, I wasn’t sure that we could defeat them. The swarm was simply too large.

“Over there!” White Blade called, his voice muffled by the scarf that covered his face. He gestured to a nearby fire hydrant, and I guessed his plan. If we could wrap the end of the cable around the hydrant, the leader would be stuck while we picked off the rest.

White Blade dropped his sword and grabbed the cable with both hands. He braced his feet against the curb. Together we pulled, freeing enough slack for me to wrap around the hydrant.

“Hurry!” he gasped.

I tied a slipknot in the slack. Then I looped the cable around White Blade’s neck and let go.

Through the gap in the scarf that covered his face, I saw his eyes go wide. A look of shock? Betrayal? Pain?

He clawed at the cable, tugging his scarf down. Recognition stabbed my chest. His eyes, nose, mouth, and other features were the same as mine, sure as staring in a mirror.

Then he was gone — dragged by his neck into the swarm.

Nomanchulators engulfed his body, eager to feed. In the center stood the leader, its long mosquito mouth poised over White Blade’s face. My face.

“Well done!” shouted Kiana from the roof of a building overlooking the alley. “I knew you’d help us.” Her voice fractured into a cold, insectual laugh, and her eyes became the same dead black as the Nomanchulators’.

I woke, horrified and sickened by what I’d done.