CHAPTER 8

Daniel ducked down along the plane of his board. A sheet of frothing water hurtled over his head, enclosing him in a churning tunnel. He dug his hand into the face of the wave to slow down so he could stay in the barrel longer. He didn’t need to worry about slowing down. The tunnel went on and on. He couldn’t see the end. It was a perfect ride stretching to infinity, but there was something wrong. Someone was with him in the barrel. And there was this noise, not the rushing of a wave, but indistinct voices, advertising jingles. Something poked him in the ribs.

The wave disappeared. As Daniel returned to consciousness his sensations of the wave around him, of his muscles poised in a perfect coordination of balance and awareness, vanished. Instead, he felt the enclosure of his duvet, his extra-firm mattress tilting down on one side under Steve’s weight. He had pulled Daniel’s pillow out from under his head to use as a prop to cushion the headboard while he sat flipping between sports channels.

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to say hi.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“Not anymore.” Steve grinned. “Do you always sleep fully dressed? Because seriously, the monk thing isn’t going to make it with your nurse.”

“What time is it?”

“Five. Or maybe it’s six by now, I’m not sure.”

“You’re supposed to be at—”

“Finished early. Thought we could do dinner. The guys all went to some video game expo.”

“I’m eating with Jane.”

“You were with her all morning.”

“You should be happy I’m moving fast.”

“I get that you must be feeling it since you took her to a fucking surf comp and somehow survived without losing your shit, but there’s a very compelling line of philosophy that says it’s good to make a girl wait. If you’re too available, you set yourself up for failure.”

“Have you found a replacement for Garrett?”

“You and me are due for some bro time. I was thinking pizza, a couple movies. Or there’s a Warriors game.”

Something was very off. Daniel shook off the last dregs of sleep. He reached for his phone on the nightstand. It wasn’t there. “Where’s my phone?”

“You’re fucking impossible sometimes, you know that? I’m trying to help you out, but no, you just have to know everything.”

“You’re right. I do. So tell me.”

“There’s a trial tonight.”

Daniel leaned over and snatched the remote from Steve before he had time to react. Steve had been carefully skipping over the news channels and now, as Daniel punched the number, the screen was flooded with information about the Vanguard. A list of known facts was on the sidebar. The ticker ran with the headline: VANGUARD ANNOUNCES TRIAL FOR 10 PM ET. TARGET UNKNOWN. FBI SAYS THEY’RE PURSUING SEVERAL LEADS.

“So your plan was for me to sit and eat pizza while someone was being tortured?”

“It’s a better plan than you watching it. I’m sick and tired of you falling to fucking shit every time these bastards run their little show. Their power over you is fucking sick.”

“You mean if I was you, I’d be over it, right? Steve and his kahunas don’t take shit from anyone. It’s just too bad the Vanguard grabbed the wrong Fletcher.”

Steve flinched. His voice diminished as he said, almost pleading, “You don’t have to watch it.”

“This one will be different.” Daniel leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed his walking crutch. “Jane’s already helped me. I feel good. If I can make it through the whole trial, I might remember something useful.”

“You’re not going to figure anything out that the FBI doesn’t already know.”

“They haven’t spent four days with the Vanguard like I have.”

Daniel felt Steve rolling his eyes. They’d played out this conversation more times than either cared to admit. No matter how confident Daniel felt going into a trial, he’d never watched an entire Libertines episode without a seizure. He felt a warning twinge travel down his back. His water bottle was not on the nightstand.

“You took my water, too?”

Steve reluctantly handed over Daniel’s phone, keys, and water bottle from where he’d stashed them behind the pillow. Daniel strapped on his crutch, walked across the room and opened his closet door.

“What time is your date tonight?”

Daniel opened the water and took three gulping swallows while he surveyed his wardrobe. “Eight. She doesn’t have a lot of time. I said I’d pick something up and bring it in.”

“Is she … adventurous?”

“Come on, don’t be like that. What’s a good place?”

“I was thinking about food. You’re the one who read into it.”

“What about tacos? Those are easy. I could just—” Daniel lost the end of his thought as his vision went blurry. His head began to swim. “What the—” Steve jumped up and gently leaned him into the bed.

“You’re okay buddy. Don’t fight it.”

“You dosed me. You—Jane.”

“I’ll take care of her. Don’t worry. You’ll thank me for this later.” Steve reached across the bed and snatched Daniel’s pillow back from the headboard just in time to rest Daniel’s head beneath it. He removed the crutch. and set it beside the bed where it would be easy to reach. He removed Daniel’s bottle of Klonopin—the drug he took at night to sleep—from his pocket and set it on the nightstand beside Daniel’s phone.

“Don’t go near her, you promised—Steve.” Daniel couldn’t fight off sleep any longer. The last he saw, Steve was walking out the door.