Slayers: Friends and Traitors

by C. J. Hill

  “Yeah, but waiting until after she did her hair and makeup to throw her in—that’s mean.”

  Dirk rolled his eyes. “Fine. If I throw Ryker in the lake, I’ll do it before he beautifies himself. Where does the guy live?”

  Tori glanced around to make sure they were still alone. “Rutland, Vermont. The problem is, Ryker’s parents won’t let him train. He has to wait until he’s eighteen and he can legally leave on his own. That won’t be until next summer.”

  “Next summer.” Dirk considered this. “That’s not too far away. The important thing is that we found him.” Dirk’s words were calm but Tori felt a surge of emotion run through him. Satisfaction, and then something else. Something that was harder to identify.

  Dirk glanced at his watch, looked around the room, then put his hand into his jeans pocket and fiddled with his cell phone. An almost electric current of energy, of restlessness, ran just underneath his surface. He reminded Tori of one of those caged panthers at a zoo that paces back and forth in their cages.

  “You’re too tense,” she told him and reached up and massaged his shoulders. His muscles were hard, thick. Slayer muscles. “Relax a little. It’s not like I’m leading A-team on the mission. You’d have a reason to be tense then.”

  He forced a smile. “I’m just remembering our last mission.”

  “We’ll win this one.” She stopped kneading his shoulders and motioned to her costume. “As an experienced superhero, I can tell you that good always conquers evil.”

  Dirk let out a grunt. “Who said this is a fight between good and evil?”

  She hadn’t expected that reaction from him. It seemed so cynical. “Of course it’s between good and evil. We’re good and Overdrake is planning on using dragons to take down the government. Last I checked, that qualifies as evil.”

  Dirk’s gaze went to a portrait of Jefferson on the wall. “Wars aren’t ever that clear cut. You don’t think everyone who fought on England’s side during the Revolutionary War was evil, do you?”

  “That was different. The British soldiers fought because their king ordered them to. But even then, they were in the wrong. Americans deserved to have self-determination. We deserved our freedom.”

  “Freedom?” Dirk asked, turning back to her. “Runaway slaves fought for the British troops. England promised them their freedom—something that didn’t happen in America until the Civil War. And that war is still America’s bloodiest.”

  Tori never considered this before and it bothered her. The colonies were fighting for their freedom while denying freedom to some. Then again, none of that changed what was happening now. “So what are you saying? That you don’t want to fight Overdrake or that you wish you were British?”

  Dirk turned and studied the pictures of Monticello. “All I’m saying is that conflicts aren’t usually about good and evil. They’re about the decisions people make when they’re ambitious, when they’re angry”—his gaze cut back over to her—“when they’re in love. The fate of nations can change from the roll of the dice. Who’s to say the world is worse off because Egypt fell to Alexander the Great or because William the Conqueror took over England?”

  “This is about good and evil,” Tori said. “I’m not risking my life over something that’s no more important than a roll of the dice.”

  Dirk looked like he was going to say something, then changed his mind. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He reached out and took her hand. His was warm, comforting. “I’m just stressed.”

  She wondered if this was how soldiers felt before they went to battle—did they question the cause they were fighting for? Did they weigh it against their life and wonder if it was worth it?

  She squeezed Dirk’s hand. “It will be all right.”

  He smiled and squeezed her hand back, but wasn’t convinced. Another emotion joined his others: a sadness she didn’t understand. Were these emotions stronger than the ones he usually felt, or was she getting better at reading him? Even his light blue eyes seemed darker now, muted.

  “It will be all right,” she told him again, so softly it was no more than a coo.

  He pulled her a step closer and leaned down to say something. She waited for the feel of his breath brushing against her ear. He never got the words out.

  A voice interrupted them. “Well, I’m not the first one here after all.”

  Tori blushed even before she turned. She had been so wrapped up in Dirk, she hadn’t heard Jesse come in, hadn’t sensed that anyone was there.

  Jesse wore jeans, a tan jacket, and an expression that said he didn’t like that she and Dirk were holding hands. He walked toward them, a wry look in his eyes. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, I’ve always known how fast Dirk is.”

  CHAPTER 18

  It had been almost three months since Tori saw Jesse at camp. When she’d thought of him, she pictured him standing against the canopy of sunlit trees, as much a part of the forest as the summer air and the emerald leaves around him.

  It was odd to see him suddenly superimposed here in the real world.

  That was the only reason she was staring at Jesse, the only reason she couldn’t speak. It had nothing to do with the memories that rushed back at her—she and Jesse sailing through a sea of leaves and light, Jesse smiling at her as they sat by a campfire under the star studded sky, Jesse’s hand on her cheek as he leaned down to kiss her.

  Dirk didn’t drop Tori’s hand. He held on to it possessively. “Tori got here first. We’ve only been together for a little while.”

  “Oh.” Jesse’s gaze slid to Tori’s eyes. His voice was accusing. “Sorry to interrupt you two then.”

  Tori felt caught, awkward. She didn’t want to offend Dirk by pulling her hand away from him, but she didn’t like this either—this feeling that Dirk was laying claim to her in front of Jesse.

  She said the only thing she could think of. “Do the two of you need to talk … you know, as captains … to discuss strategy?” She dropped Dirk’s hand and stepped away from him as though expecting him to walk off.

  Jesse’s gaze stayed on her. “Actually, I was just thinking that the two of us needed to talk.”

  Dirk folded his arms. He didn’t move away from Tori. “I thought you said everything you needed to say to Tori on the last night of camp.”

  Jesse took a couple more steps over to him. “And apparently you said a whole lot to her afterward. Thanks. Thanks for being a friend.”

  “As I remember it,” Dirk said, “Tori was the one who needed a friend that night.”

  “I bet she did,” Jesse said. “How nice that you were there for her.”

  Tori’s gaze bounced back and forth between them. She needed to put an end to this but didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t explain how things were between Dirk and her—didn’t exactly know how they were herself. She couldn’t decide on the spot and didn’t want Dirk deciding for her. At the same time, she couldn’t be disloyal to him. He had been there for her during the last three months. Jesse hadn’t.

  Tori pulled Dirk’s jacket tighter around herself and addressed Jesse. “You have no right to be mad at either of us. You told me you wanted me to date other guys.”

  Jesse raised a hand in disbelief. “Yeah, but I thought you would wait longer than fifteen minutes. And I didn’t expect you to start with one of my best friends.”

  She could have told Jesse things hadn’t started at camp, and technically she and Dirk weren’t a couple. Instead she said, “Sorry. After you break up with someone, you don’t get to decide those things.”

  “I never—” Jesse didn’t finish the sentence.

  Rosa’s voice called over to them from the doorway, “Is this where the Justice League is meeting?” She grinned and headed toward the group. “I must have missed the memo about our new superhero outfits.”

  Rosa wore faded jeans and an oversize jacket that made her look even more petite. She eyed Tori’s outfit, shaking her head so that her long brown hair swayed ar
ound her shoulders. “Only you could make bright red, calf-length boots work.” She gave Tori a hug, then turned and hugged Jesse and Dirk.

  When she was done, Rosa said, “So, what did I miss?”

  “I don’t know,” Jesse said. “I just got here. Apparently I missed a whole lot.”

  Dirk ignored Jesse’s comment. “Dr. B only told me a few things. He wants to give everyone the mission details himself.” Dirk didn’t have to explain why. Dr. B didn’t want the captains giving their opinions and swaying the vote. “I can tell you this, though, it will be an offensive.”

  Rosa nodded, suddenly business-like. “We should review offensive protocol for Tori.” Tori only had one summer to learn the stuff the other Slayers had worked on for years. It wasn’t second nature to her yet. She tried to pay attention as Rosa listed rules and procedures. She needed to wrap her mind around the mission and stop glancing at Jesse and Dirk to see if they were still glaring at each other.

  Which they were.

  Tori felt surprisingly horrible about this. Jesse and Dirk had been good friends before she came to camp. Now she was standing between them, figuratively and literally.

  After another fifteen minutes of listening to Rosa talk about what constituted a need to use force, when property damage was justifiable, and which laws could be broken, Lilly made her way to the group.

  Lilly was only an inch or two taller than Rosa, but she didn’t come off as petite, or doll-like, or anything remotely soft and cuddly. She looked like the compact version of a roller derby queen. Lilly’s bleached-blonde hair with dark roots seemed to be a lifestyle rather than a fashion choice. She’d worn nothing but tank tops and cut-off jean shorts all summer, kept her nails painted hooker red, and had a way of standing with one hip jutted out that indicated if you messed with her, she’d happily yank off one of your limbs.

  Now she wore a pair of old jeans and a beat-up black ski jacket. A couple of bright red streaks ran through her hair. She walked over to the group while checking texts on her phone. “Do you guys know what’s going on?” Her red fingernails tapped against the keypad. “I can’t get a hold of Alyssa. It’s worrying me.”

  “You can’t get a hold of Alyssa?” Jesse repeated incredulously. “How are you trying to get a hold of her?”

  Lilly flashed her cell phone at him. “We exchanged phone numbers a long time ago. Yeah, yeah, I know.” She held up her hand to stop Jesse’s protest. “It’s against the rules. Dirk can make me run extra laps later. The point is, she’s not answering her phone. We texted after the first warning and she was fine. She was on her way shopping for a costume and said she’d call me when she got to the store. She never did.” Lilly went back to texting. “When Dr. B called the meeting, and I still hadn’t heard from her, I called her watch-phone. She didn’t answer that either.”

  “Did you tell Dr. B?” Rosa asked, her worry ratcheting up. She was Alyssa’s counterpart.

  Lilly nodded. “He said we’d talk about it once he got here.” She looked between Dirk and Jesse. “Is this a drill or is it for real?”

  “It’s not a drill,” Jesse said.

  Lilly let out a long breath and put her phone in her jacket pocket. “Great.” She looked around again. “Where’s Shang?” Shang was her counterpart and the only Slayer besides Alyssa that Lilly ever listened to.

  “He hasn’t come yet,” Rosa said. “Neither has Kody. Maybe they can’t make it.”

  None of them asked where Bess was. She would be with Dr. B.

  Tori’s cell phone rang again. Her parents’ ring tone. She still didn’t answer. She was going to be in so much trouble when this was over. Her watch read 4:18. It felt like it had been longer. It felt like time was purposely dragging its feet and would keep them here, strung with suspense, forever.

  “Dr. B is close,” Jesse said at the same time Tori felt a surge of energy course through her, fill her. During missions, Dr. B hauled the simulator in a trailer behind the van. It was on and in range. She felt stronger, lighter, not cold anymore. Her senses grew even crisper. The room was brighter, louder, and she could smell whiffs of stale cigarette smoke coming from a couple of passing tourists.

  Jesse’s and Dirk’s watches simultaneously beeped with new instructions. They both looked down and read their messages.

  “I’ll answer him,” Dirk said.

  While he called Dr. B, Jesse told the others, “We need to head to location two.” That was the Lincoln Memorial. “Dr. B wants to meet privately.”

  At the Lincoln Memorial? The monuments weren’t as crowded as they usually were on a Saturday. People were getting ready for Halloween. Still, any monument was a long ways from private.

  Without questioning the logic behind this decision, the other Slayers headed toward the closest door. Tori followed. Lilly glanced behind them. “What about everyone else?”

  Jesse was at the head of the group. “Kody will meet up with us later. Shang is out of the area.” Dr. B apparently hadn’t said anything about Alyssa. Tori wondered if that hinted at bad news. Lilly seemed to think so. She muttered unhappily and pushed ahead of Tori and Rosa to talk to Dirk.

  The group made their way along the tidal basin toward the Lincoln Memorial. A few clouds had wandered in front of the sun, dimming the light and making the water even darker than its usual muddy green. There were no hints of the bright pink and white cherry blossoms the trees were famous for. That season was past. Now the trees stood about, average and unremarkable, waiting for winter to strip them down to their bark.

  Dr. B liked the downtown area for Slayer meetings because the monuments were open twenty-four hours. So many tourists were always coming and going, that one more group walking around wouldn’t be noticed.

  Walking felt too slow. Tori itched to fly or at least to run. With her powers turned on, it wouldn’t even be tiring. But the group wasn’t supposed to draw attention to themselves. They had to look like a bunch of normal teenagers seeing the sights. Well, a bunch of normal teenagers and one girl wearing a miniskirt and shiny red superhero boots.

  Rosa walked beside Tori, still giving her a refresher in protocol whenever passing tourists weren’t within earshot. The group strode past the FDR monument: statues of people waiting in a line that never moved. Tori’s father said it was really a monument depicting government speed.

  The group next passed the marble likeness of Martin Luther King. Tori couldn’t quite decide whether his expression looked hopeful or suspicious. One of the quotes on the inscription wall read, “I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant.”

  Right and wrong. Not just the roll of the dice. She felt buoyed by the words until she thought about the part that said right didn’t always triumph. It seemed like a bad omen.

  The group crossed Independence Avenue and walked over to the Lincoln Memorial, a hundred-foot tall Greek temple where a huge statue of Abraham Lincoln sat pondering the tourists. To Tori it would always be the place made famous by the back of the penny. As a child she had expected the monument to be copper colored and not made of pale white stone.

  Bess stood near the mountain of steps that led up to the statue’s room. She wore a jean jacket, cowboy boots, a western shirt, and a bandana looped around her neck. Her curly hair had grown out a little since the summer. It was long enough that she had put it in two short braids. She spotted the group, walked over, and hugged everyone—even Lilly, and they had never gotten along that well at camp.

  In Lilly’s defense, Bess did things like throw shields up while Lilly was tossing her lunch plate in the garbage can. Bess thought nothing was funnier than seeing bits of macaroni salad bounce back in Lilly’s direction.

  Tori looked around for Dr. B. “Where is your dad?”

  “Waiting for us,” Bess said. “We need to go around to the lower lobby.” She headed in that direction and the rest followed. The Lincoln Monument, like the Jefferson Memoria
l, had a room underneath it full of information about the president: timelines, quotes, pictures, bits and pieces of the remarkable laid out to display. Definitely not the most private place to meet.

  As she walked alongside Bess, Tori said, “I’m glad I’m not the only one wearing a costume.”

  “Costume?” Bess asked. “What are you talking about? This is how I normally dress.”

  “Right,” Tori said. “Me too. Including the big S on my chest.”

  Bess laughed. “Okay, I don’t actually dress like this, but Kody does. Seriously, the first time we did a drill in D.C., we had to make him ditch his cowboy hat. It was too conspicuous.”

  “It’s a good thing I didn’t make that mistake then. I’ll blend right in.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Bess glanced around to make sure no one overheard. “My dad brought our Kevlar outfits.”

  They needed their bulletproof gear. That wasn’t good news.

  The group walked into the lower lobby, weaving around displays until they reached the elevator. Jesse pushed the call button and after a couple moments the elevator doors opened. Tori walked in with the others. “Why didn’t we just go up the stairs?” she asked Bess. “We were right there.”

  Instead of pushing the button that read “to statuary,” Bess pulled a key from her pocket and inserted it into one of the keyholes on the panel. She twisted the key and the elevator went up. “You’ll see.”

  Bess had a special key to the Lincoln Memorial elevator? How did a person go about getting one of those? No one else seemed surprised by all of this, but then, they’d done drills in D.C. before.

  When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, the statue of Lincoln was nowhere around. A space not much bigger than the elevator stood in front of them. The group piled out and moved toward a built-in ladder that went up to the roof. Jesse flew up and opened a trapdoor. Tori watched him. “Um, is going up on the roof legal?”

  “Define legal,” Bess said.

  “Will I be arrested for doing this?” Tori clarified.

  “No,” Bess said as though it were a ridiculous question. “No one will catch us.”