CHAPTER 24

After Iz hung up on me, I just sat there for a long time, wondering if I had completely blown it with her. Even if everything worked out and I got to stay in Minnesota, was she going to give me anything but the cold shoulder?

And even if I did track down Crazy Carl, who was to say I’d be able to make any sense out of his Looney Tunes alien talk?

And even if he did admit to being the accomplice, what if I still couldn’t put my hands on the money? There was no telling if he’d repeat the same story tomorrow morning for anybody else. Who would believe he’d confessed about the bank heist to me? The townsfolk would probably see the whole thing as my pitiful attempt to lay the blame on somebody too crazy to defend himself. Go pick on somebody your own mental-health status, Bank-Robber Boy!

But really, I had to be close to the dump. What did I have to lose at that point, other than a little of my life’s blood to a random wandering vampire and/or the swarm of mosquitoes trying to suck me dry?

I kicked off on my bike and kept going. It seemed to take forever, but finally I could tell I was almost there; the rotting-zombies smell slithered into my nostrils. When I pulled to a stop at the gate, the smell tried to smother me from the inside. Once I was done dry heaving, I leaned my bike against the fence. The thick air and my own nerves had me sweating like a roomful of American Idol wannabes.

The gate was pulled closed with a padlock and chain; just on the off chance they were rusted out, I tested the gate to make sure it was actually locked. The dark shape of the trailer loomed up inside. Was Crazy Carl nestled all snugly in there with his buddies, the cockroaches?

“Hey! Carl. I gotta talk to you. Come on out here and let me in!”

Nothing.

“Carl!” I rattled the gate. Finally I just hauled myself up and over the chainlink fence and dropped down onto the other side.

I climbed the steps of the trailer and banged on the door. “Yo! Carl.”

Something clattered behind me and I whipped around. I couldn’t see anyone. I ran the flashlight beam up and down a mound of garbage. It caught the long tails of two scurrying shapes.

Rats! Literally.

But no Crazy Carl.

I tried the trailer door handle and it pushed open under my hand. It was so small inside that I didn’t even have to leave the doorway to see everything. I ran my light across a beat-up old desk and file cabinet, a chair with broken slats, and an empty mattress on the floor. A rusted-out toilet sat in a back corner.

There was no sign of the whacked-out possible felon who was my only hope.

I pulled the door shut behind me. I wandered a few feet farther along the road that wound through the dump, straight into the pits of hell. Plastic garbage bags were mounded on all sides. They glinted in the flashlight beam like butcher knives in the hands of psycho killers. I spied something red and wet and glistening. I made myself keep moving.

The misshapen mounds of trash cast creepy shadows ahead of me. I raised the flashlight higher. I was surrounded by mountains of slime. That first day Gram and I had been out here, I’d watched Carl scramble his way over the piles of garbage. He could be anywhere in that wilderness of waste.

I searched among a million or so bags, but finally I stopped. For all I knew, I was circling the same mound over and over. I was never going to find Crazy Carl like this. The question was, should I keep searching there at the dump, or was he somewhere else?

I was debating my options when I heard a car coming down the road. My gut clenched. I didn’t think Crazy Carl had wheels, but I also couldn’t figure out who else would be visiting the dump at that time of night. I flicked off my light and scurried behind one of the piles.

I heard a car door slam shut.

“Hey! Kid! I know you’re here. The bike’s a dead giveaway. Get on out here.”

It was Deputy Dude. How had he tracked me down? Had Iz turned me in?

I was plenty ticked at the thought, but maybe in the end it would save some time. I’d tell him what Crazy Carl had said at the parade and all the stuff I’d figured out about Carl spending money in town. Then I’d point out that it was his deputy duty to help me nail the bank-robbery accomplice. I should have just called him before.

I could hear his heavy footsteps coming closer; he must have climbed over the fence too. When his flashlight beam was arcing toward my hiding place, I stepped out from behind the mound.

“There you are. So the money’s out here somewhere?”

The guy had caught on to the whole Crazy Carl theory pretty fast; maybe that was why they let him carry the big gun.

“I don’t know. I mean, maybe, but I haven’t been able to ask him yet.” I threw an arm up to shield my eyes; the deputy kept shining his light right in my face.

“Look, kid, I don’t know what your new game is, but the rules just changed. Now, tell me where you’ve got the cash.”

At first I figured he had missed the part where Carl had taken my spot on the bad-guy roster. But when I opened my mouth to explain, Deputy Dude changed the batting order altogether. “After I got the phone call from your mother, I knew I didn’t have any more time to mess around. And since I didn’t find the cash when I searched your granny’s house, I figured you’d be heading out to pick it up tonight. You get points for thinking of the dump as a hiding place, kid. But now it’s time to hand it over. I liberated all that money fourteen years ago, and I want it back now.”

It was like he was speaking Swahili, and I didn’t know how to translate. He finally decided to help me catch up to the story line. He lowered the flashlight beam out of my eyes so I could see, pulled his gun out of the holster, and pointed it straight at me.

“You’re the accomplice?” my voice squeaked out. How could he be the accomplice? Crazy Carl was the one at the stores spending the money. That was why I was there at the dump in the first place.

“I don’t know that you’d call me an accomplice when the whole bank heist was my idea from the start. All that energy I spent convincing your father to help me out, and then he didn’t even hide the money on the island like we’d agreed. I should have figured he’d start second-guessing it all afterward. Idiot never told me he’d stashed the money somewhere else. Stupid on my part to get rid of him before I discovered that.”

I opened my mouth again but this time no sound at all came out. I just did that fish thing, where you keep opening and closing your lips.

“I don’t have any more time to waste, kid. You’ve got exactly ten seconds to tell me where the money is before I shoot you in the kneecap and wherever else it takes for you to tell me what I want to know. Ten. Nine. Eight.”

I was sucking in air too fast. My head was spinning.

“Seven. Six. Five.”

Somebody let out a scream.

I thought I had to be hallucinating. But the deputy heard it too. He whipped around to see who was behind him. I took off like a rabbit in the other direction.

The screaming continued. I just kept running.

I skidded between two mounds of garbage. I careened around a half-buried refrigerator. In between screams I could hear Deputy Death crashing around behind me. He was hot on my trail.

I dropped my flashlight. I didn’t dare use it anyway. I smacked dead-on into something hard. I bounced off and kept going. Something slimy slapped across my face.

I kept moving. I scrambled through spots too tight for Deputy Death. I thought I was losing him.

Then something rolled under my foot. My ankle twisted and I went down hard in a pile of garbage. I hoisted myself back up. But as soon as I tried to put weight on my foot, it gave out under me.

The screaming had stopped. Everything seemed to have slowed down. I could hear the deputy’s boots squishing closer.

I looked around. Three steps to my left stood an old freezer chest. The top was missing. A mannequin stood inside.

I crawled over to it. Somehow I hauled myself over the edge. I hunkered into the bottom. Something was clogging my throat. I swallowed and tasted my own blood.

There wasn’t enough air in the universe for my busted-out lungs. I hid my face in my knees to muffle my gasps. My ankle was pulsing like a bass note pouring out of a lowrider. Sweat waterfalled off me.

I don’t know how long I huddled there just trying to breathe. As soon as I could suck air quietly enough, I lifted my head to listen for Deputy Death. My gamble seemed to have paid off; it sounded as if he had moved past me. I looked skyward. I couldn’t see any sign of his flashlight beam.

I fumbled in my pocket. Yes! My cell phone was still there. I yanked it out and then stared at it. What good did it do me? No way I could risk calling someone and having the deputy overhear. My cover would be blown as soon as I said anything.

Deputy Death’s voice cut through the dark. “Might as well give yourself up, kid. I’ll get to you sooner or later, and riling me up is just going to make it more painful for you.”

There was nobody I could text. Even with the time difference, Ma would be sound asleep, and Kalooky was off surviving the wilderness.

“Look, kid, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. But I can promise you one thing: the more worked up I am when I find you, the more hurt you’ll feel.”

It seemed like his voice was coming from a different direction, but I didn’t think he was any nearer to me. It was a big dump. I was fine where I was. It didn’t even smell that bad anymore. I’d just stay hidden until morning. Once somebody showed up to open for business, I’d be safe.

I wondered what time the vultures showed up.

“Of course, maybe a tough guy like you isn’t worried about a little pain. But you’ve got to remember to think about the big picture, kid. Like your granny, for instance. I mean, I might be willing to swing a little deal with you there.” Deputy Death’s voice was still loud, but it had shifted to this slick super-salesman tone.

“I guess you’re smart enough to have figured out it’s too late to save yourself, kid. You’re dead meat. But you can still choose to make things easier for poor old Granny. You cooperate with me, and I’ll leave her alone.”

Suddenly I remembered that among the dozens of apps I had loaded onto my phone was a recorder. I crouched over my cell to hide any light and fumbled with the buttons. My hands were shaking but I managed to get it running. Now he could make all the threats he wanted—the more the better. Then, when I managed to escape, I’d have enough evidence to bust him.

“You keep stretching things out this way, and I’ll make sure Granny pays a high price.”

I saw a light beam pass high overhead. Was he doubling back?

“Come on, kid. You want the last thing Granny hears to be a description of exactly how I killed her son?”

His voice was definitely closer now. I sank down lower. I tucked my phone into a far corner of the freezer and felt around with my hands to see if there was anything on the floor I could throw at him. Where was Butter Head when I needed her?

“Or maybe it’s really worse to let Granny live a nice long life never knowing the truth. When you don’t turn up tomorrow, she’ll just assume you ran off again. You’re good at that, right? When you never come back, she’ll box up your stuff and stick it under the bed next to what’s left of your old man’s life. Both of you gone without her ever knowing where or how.”

I think my heart was bleeding. Gram was as good as dead no matter what; I knew she wouldn’t survive having somebody else she loved vanish without a trace.

“You come out now and I’ll fix it so she doesn’t have to go through any of that.”

The light beam swung overhead again. Maybe I could heave the mannequin at him? Or jump him when he got closer? I tried putting weight on my injured ankle and almost bit through my lip to keep from screaming.

“Granny’s been good to you, right? Give yourself up for her, kid.”

I could hear his boots squishing again. Definitely getting closer.

For a desperate couple of seconds I tried to come up with a great lie I could sell him. That was one of my mad skills, right? I could pretend I’d hidden the money somewhere and convince him I had to lead him to it—somewhere buried on the island, maybe? Then I’d find a way to escape on our way out there. Escape and save both me and Gram.

But it was like he was wired for psychic sound or something. “And don’t bother thinking up some elaborate escape plan, kid. You’re mine.”

The voice was louder. He was definitely closing in. My brain was wiped clean of ideas. It looked as if I had been right that very first morning in Minnesota: the ghosts of all those dead animals in Gram’s freezer were going to have their revenge on the son of the man who’d hunted them down.

I made myself as invisible as possible.

“I didn’t like having to get rid of your old man, you know. But he admitted to me he’d left his backup flashlight in the bank vault. As soon as he said it, I knew they’d track him down. And get him to talk. Your dad was always a big talker. And I couldn’t have that. So . . . he really didn’t leave me any other choice. And it was easy to send everyone on a wild-goose chase.”

I was maybe minutes away from dying in a freezer chest because my father had been a bigmouth. And a screwup. He’d even managed to screw up while he was screwing up.

I was a screwup too. I’d pretty much built my own deathtrap. Both Gram and I were going to pay the price. And Ma too, I realized.

“I got a look at the case files myself, once I became a deputy. He’d wiped the outside of the flashlight clean, but he’d never wiped his fingerprints off the batteries.”

The footsteps stopped. I could hear the deputy’s heavy breathing.

All of a sudden, I could somehow picture myself cornered like a rat in the appliance of death, like I was seeing it all happen from above. The way people always described near-death experiences.

Ma, I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry.

Then I saw a really bright light.

“Near-death” was exactly the right name for it. Because it was Deputy Death’s flashlight shining straight down on me.

“Gotcha,” he said.