24

Jeremy

Saturday: 11:59 PM

Pity! I couldn’t believe it, but I actually caught a flash of it in Bobby Pendell’s eyes. How pathetic are you if a kid who’s blind in one eye and seeing death and murder in the other feels sorry for you?

I looked down at the hydraulic contraption that served as my leg. My fault. Everything that ever happened to me was my own doing. With the exception of my mother’s death, which, out of habit, I still blamed on myself.

Nothing stings worse than to see someone so at the end of their rope think you are even worse off than they are. But in a way, I was. Bobby’s demons were external.

Mine were inside of me.

The stump hurt like balls and I wondered if something was wrong there as well. Chaz, my physical therapist, had once told me that the stress I put on myself from running so much could cause problems in the future. I hadn’t really paid attention, but now I sort of remembered him mentioning that bone spurs could be pretty painful.

If I’d admitted it to myself, it had been happening for a bit. Which was why I’d put my collapsible crutches in the same carry bag I’d brought the running blade in.

“Look,” I said. “After we check out the basement, I’m going to head to the apartment where I’m staying.”

Bobby looked at me. “You’re not staying with Marisa?”

“No,” I said and turned away. I was afraid that if he pressed me, I’d admit that Agent Reston had arranged for it. Now I wondered how smart that was. But all my stuff was there. And the stump was shooting pains right up my spine into my eyeballs.

“Sure,” he said. “Whatever you want.” I thought I heard a bit of disappointment in his tone, but didn’t press him. I didn’t want to back out on him, but I was approaching the point where I’d be more of a liability than an asset.

“You should tell her the whole thing, Bobby. You can count on her. I’m the one that will fold, just when you need me to lean on.” I stopped and took in a long breath. “Look at me. I can barely stand myself.”

“I know I can count on Gabe. And I know she’s tougher than both of us put together. But why put that on her?”

I shrugged and limped after him, each step more painful than the last.

◆

The church had a few sublevels, but the girls waited for us on the first one below, unsure where to go.

“There’s a lot of floors, Bobby. Where to?” Gabe asked.

“I don’t know.”

In front of me stood Brittany Byers, motioning with a finger.

“I think I can help with that,” I said.

Bobby looked at me and frowned slightly. I nodded my head toward her. I figured she presented herself differently to him. For me, she was clearly delineated, as delicate as the skin of an eyelid.

It was slow going. Brittany seemed to forget that we couldn’t walk through walls, and my lack of speed wasn’t helping.

Finally she led us to the last sub-basement—the dimly lit one that really gave away the church’s age. The sub-basement floor was packed dirt, the walls rock. It was the bowels of the church and the nerd portion of my brain suddenly wanted to stop and Google its origins.

Brittany led us through the boiler room to a large broom closet. Bobby stood in front of the closet, his hands opening and closing. He kneeled onto the packed dirt, his palms to the ground.

“This was not where she died,” he said. Brittany nodded at me encouragingly.

Eyes still closed, Bobby’s hands skimmed the floor surface. He scooped up a small handful of the dirt and cupped his other hand around it.

“She struggled. Got away.”

Bobby opened his eyes and leaned over so that his face was almost level with the floor. He picked up a short black thread from the floor.

“This belongs to her attacker.”