One of the arms had a familiar tattoo across the bicep.
Jill broke free from the skirmish just in time to see the skater and Zack fighting onto their feet. The skater was swinging the needle at Zack now.
“Look out!” Jill shouted.
Zack was ahead of her, ducking out of the way, letting the needle swing past him. He gave the skater a punch to the gut. The skater hunched over, and Zack got him again with a sharp uppercut.
Now the skater was flat on his back, writhing around, trying to catch his breath. The syringe was dangling from his fingertips. Jill lunged for him and snatched the syringe. With a single, smooth motion, she pulled it from his hand and stuck in the side of his neck, depressing the plunger as soon as she made contact, and sending the skater’s body limp.
Zack grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Her legs were a loose, rubbery jumble, and she fell backward, dragging both of them to the ground.
They were too spent to get up.
“What are you doing here?” Jill said between breaths.
“What’s it look like I’m doing?” said Zack. “I came back here to save your ass.”
Chapter 31
It was Zack’s idea to get in the car and go. Had Jill stopped to think about it for even a few seconds, she would have refused, but her body wasn’t in a thinking sort of place. The chase around her home had awakened some animal instinct that was eager to fly to safety. Before she had any idea what she was doing, she was in the passenger seat of the Corvair and they were tearing out of the neighborhood. It wasn’t until they reached the first traffic light that some semblance of rational thought returned. At first, her thoughts were as manic as her body felt. She let them run wild, listening carefully to every idea, and by the time her thoughts had circled back to the beginning, she knew four of them were more important than the rest.
1. There are two skaters lying asleep outside my house.
2. Dusk is here. Melissa is after me. I have to get someplace safe.
3. Zack is involved now. I need to get him uninvolved before it’s too late.
4. I need to call Gia.
“Who are you calling?” Zack asked as Jill pulled out her phone.
“Someone who can help us.”
“I can help us,” Zack said. “I can help you if you’ll tell me what’s going on.”
“Let me make this call and we’ll talk,” said Jill.
Gia answered and asked Jill why she wasn’t already at Nicky’s.
“I got delayed,” Jill said.
“Delayed? What kind of delay?”
She started the story with the guy who was hiding in her car and finished with the part where Zack showed up.
“I don’t understand how this Zack got involved,” Gia said. “What did you tell him the other night?”
“I didn’t tell him anything, but now I think I should,” said Jill.
“Damn right you should,” said Zack.
Jill held up her finger and mouthed the words, ‘One second.’ Zack rolled his eyes.
“If he doesn’t know anything then we shouldn’t tell him anything,” said Gia. “It sounds to me like he’s in the clear. You need to ditch him and tell him to stay far away from you if he values his life.”
Tried that already, Jill thought.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll talk to him and see what…” One of the road signs caught her eye and she turned to Zack. “Where are we going?”
“I told you on Wednesday, my band has a gig in Arlington tonight.”
“I can’t go to your gig,” Jill said.
“Why not? You need to get far away from your vampire trouble. I guarantee you there won’t be any vampires at the Yorktown Pub.”
“Zack, I have to go to my friend’s house tonight. It’s the only place I’ll be safe.”
“Nope, sorry. I left you once and you clearly weren’t safe at all. You’re staying with me for a bit.”
“So what…you’re kidnapping me now?”
“For your own good, yes.”
Jill put the phone back to her ear. “Gia, I need to call you back.”
“Wait a minute,” Gia said. “What about the kids that are knocked out at your house?”
“Oh yeah, what should we do about them?”
“I can have Dante get over there and clean up, but he needs to know what he’s getting into. Who’s home at the moment?”
“Just my mom and the maid,” said Jill. “I guarantee you my mom hasn’t noticed a thing.”
“Will the maid answer the phone if I call?” Gia asked.
“Yes, if you call the land line.”
“Alright, I’ll keep her busy until Dante can get over there. I’ll speak with you soon.”
As Jill ended the call, she reached over to Zack, took his hand in hers, and said, “Thank you. I’ve been so freaked I haven’t said thank you yet, but really…I’d be dead if you hadn’t come back.”
“You can thank me by being a bit smarter next time,” Zack said. “When you’re in trouble and someone offers to help, don’t send him away.”
Jill almost laughed at the remark—he was so sincere when he said it. Something had clicked in Zack. Perhaps it had to be that way. He came back for her because she said she had vampire trouble which, even to someone as far removed from the circles of power as Zack was, carried implications of certain death. He came back for her knowing that he was putting his own life at risk, and when he did, he saw her pinned down on the grass, a strange boy on top of her trying to poke her with a needle. Now he was going to protect her, even if it meant protecting her from herself.
“If you take me to your gig you’ll be bringing more innocent people into my mess,” Jill said. “Zack, right now, as we speak, there is a vampire out there looking for me. Those guys at my house were going to drug me to sleep--”
“I understand who those guys were and what they were trying to do. I know the immortals have slaves, and that they knock people out in the night and take them away. What I want to know is why they’re coming for you. I want you to tell me what you did so I can help you figure out how to undo it.”
“It’s not that easy. It’s not like I’ve committed a single sin that can be undone. For three years I’ve been breaking the law, Zack, and now it’s catching up to me. But I’m not helpless. I have friends who know how to handle this. As brave and as wonderful as you are, you won’t be able to help me as much as my friends will. I need you to--”
“You’re in the Network, aren’t you?”
Stunned, Jill was unable to answer at first, and they drove in silence for half a mile before she said, “Yes.”
“My cousin told me about the Network once,” Zack said. “He said the immortals want us all to believe the Network isn’t real, but that it’s out there, and there are people who dedicate their lives to it.”
“That’s all correct,” said Jill.
“So what did you do? It’s the computer thing, right? You’re a hacker.”
Jill nodded.
“Listen, Zack.”
“I know, I know. We’re talking about if-I-tell-you-I-have-to-kill-you sort of stuff. I won’t press. But I’m not going to dump you off someplace and make you fend for yourself either. You want to go to a friend’s house, I’ll take you there, but only if you convince me you’re really going to be safe this time, because this whole I’m a spy and can take care of myself business is bullshit. You almost got killed.”
Jill looked up and saw tears welling in Zack’s eyes, and she realized what a mistake it was to allow an outsider to get this close to her. It was a selfish, thoughtless thing to do.
But she’d done it, and try as she might, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. She liked sitting in the passenger seat of Zack’s car.
And if she were being honest with him, there was no case to be made for Nicky’s house. It wasn’t safe at all. Gia wanted her there as bait. The plan was for Jill to survive the night because the Network assassins would be ready for Melissa and wo
uld take her out, but that was hardly a sure thing.
If Zack was going to take her someplace safe tonight, an obscure pub that was far away from Thorndike and the rest of Jill’s world was the way to do it.
“I’ll call my friends and tell them I’m going to your gig,” Jill said. “I won’t make you leave me behind again.”
Chapter 32
Zack’s band was amazing. Loud, disorganized, dissonant, irreverent, a little immature, and amazing. Jill sat at a table at the back of the bar, drinking a club soda, clapping at the end of every tune, and feeling like something significant was happening in her life.
They returned to Zack’s apartment at two in the morning. Zack held Jill’s hand as they walked up the stoop, but otherwise he was far more tame in his affections than on their first date. The events at Jill’s house and the subsequent revelation that she was part of the Network had changed the dynamic between them. They were more than a couple now. They were two people looking out for each other, choosing to face a dangerous world together.
At some point in the night they fell asleep on his couch watching TV. Jill woke up to find her head on Zack’s shoulder and a late-night comedian blaring on the screen. Getting up carefully so as not to disturb him, she turned the TV off and went to his bedroom. She sat at his desk and used her phone to log on to the Network servers in Colorado.
There was a message waiting for her.
Jill,
Incredible! How did you do it? Have a look. It’s all decrypted now. A full terabyte of the immortals’ most sensitive data. I’m indexing the data now. It will be fully searchable in a few hours. Let me know when you’ve had a look. I figured you should get the first crack at this before I send it to intel in Rome.
Have fun!
Alvin
Alvin sent the message shortly after midnight mountain time. The clock on her computer showed 4:46 Eastern. Enough time for the indexing to finish.
Jill searched for her name in the stolen data. She pulled up some 8,000 results.
“Good Lord,” she whispered. Her name was mentioned 8,000 times in the TPM database? She opened the first result and saw that it was an invoice her father had sent to Daciana. Her name wasn’t on the invoice, but the word ‘Wentworth’ did appear.
She shook her head at Alvin’s sloppy indexing job.
“When I type Jill Wentworth, I want Jill Wentworth,” she whispered.
She created a search string that would only bring up results that had her full name.
This time she got two results, both of them emails from Galen Renwick to Merv Tremblay.
“Hello,” she said, realizing that Merv probably kept all his email on the TPM servers. This would be fun. What secrets were buried in the emails of this sicko?
She opened the first one. It was dated six years ago. Galen was musing to Merv about the girls who might compete with Kim in the Coronation contest. Galen mentioned Jill, saying she was “pretty and popular enough, but clearly not interested in the contest.”
Jill didn’t know if she should take it as a compliment that Galen thought she was pretty. Mostly it creeped her out, as this email was written when she was eleven years old.
The second email that mentioned her name was much more recent, dated last week. In it, Merv asked Galen what he intended to do about Jill, who apparently was interested in supporting Nicky rather than Kim.
Kim and I will get to Jill in due time,” Galen wrote. Right now I’m more concerned with the boys who can bid at the Date Auction. Once we have the Date Auction wrapped up, Jill will see the error in her ways. Besides, we go way back with Walter. I know his daughter will do the right thing.
“We go way back,” Jill repeated. How strange it was that Merv and Galen were talking this way. Why were they speaking like friends just days after Merv’s son went to Nicky’s party rather than Kim’s?
She made a mental note to tell Nicky and Gia about this, then went to the next email.
From: Merv Tremblay
To: Galen Renwick
I’m surprised Walter isn’t working harder to control Jill’s behavior. He knows what’s at stake. It wasn’t that long ago that you and he were having a little talk.
A little talk? Was Galen Renwick blackmailing Jill’s dad?
Remind me what we’re talking about, Galen wrote in the next email.
The paperwork you had me deliver to Kim, was Merv’s response.
Paperwork to Kim! It was one thing to read about Galen and Merv conspiring to blackmail Jill’s family—that was par for the course in Washington. Even people who pretended to be friends were always looking for an advantage over each other, always looking for that juicy secret. But to have Kim in the middle. Kim Renwick, reading some secret documents about Jill’s family! It made Jill sick with anger.
She continued reading.
Okay, I’m looking back at old emails, Galen wrote.
Did you forget? wrote Merv.
Just needed a little reminder, wrote Galen. Maybe you do too. If you’ll recall, we are not to speak of this.
“A little reminder?” Jill muttered. What the hell was going on?
She created a new search string to bring up every email Merv had sent to Galen. She found almost two thousand of them, going back some twenty years. She narrowed the results to emails that contained the word, “Walter.” That reduced the count to two-hundred-sixty-seven. She started at the bottom and opened the emails one at a time.
It was fascinating to read the history captured in this correspondence. It looked like, a long time ago, Walter, Galen, and Merv were best buds. They were classmates at Thorndike. They helped each other navigate the waters of Capitol Hill. They took hunting trips together. They congratulated each other on their success as they climbed the ladders of power.
As the emails went on, they started to speak in their own secret language of sorts. They started signing their emails with numbers rather than names. Galen was 2. Merv was 3. Walter was 11.
It was a very primitive form of coding. And it was strange to see. Sometimes the emails sounded like dispatches from a dystopian movie, like the one from Galen to Walter that read: 3 met with 14 today to discuss the fire code. 14 has been nulled.
Other times the emails were just absurd. Jill particularly liked one that said:
11 is going to the henhouse tomorrow to get chick 57. Will be a pet rather than a turkey.
The code words began to wane as the years went by. The three men grew older. They settled into their positions of power. They dropped their secret language. They got married and had children. They emailed each other less, and when they did, the emails had a different dynamic. They weren’t equals anymore. They were a leader with two sidekicks. Galen had taken control of this group. He spoke to Merv and Walter not as their friend but as their boss. Sometimes he was crass in the way he ordered them around. Sometimes he was over the top. There was one email where Galen sounded like some Italian mobster.
From: Galen Renwick
To: Merv Tremblay
There may come a time in the future when I need a favor from you. When that time comes, I hope you’ll remember all I’ve done for you these past ten years, and all I still can do. If I do bestow upon you the honor of paying me a favor, I don’t want you to ask any questions, I simply want you to do it. Do you understand?
Merv wrote back with the same words the slaves used when Melissa Mayhew was programming them: I understand.
Jill was half-way through this strange written history when she found the email she was looking for, “the little reminder” as Galen had called it when he needed to jar his memory about some “documentation” that Merv had given him.
The email was three years old now. It had a different tone of voice than any of the other emails Jill had read.
From: Galen Renwick
To: Merv Tremblay
Dear Merv,
Remember when I told you about a favor? The time has come. I need something from you and I need no questions asked. I want
the full extent of your files on Walter Wentworth. The FULL extent. You know what I mean. I need them right away. I am in Canada right now but I can’t wait to get them. You will bring them to my house and give them to Kim. She will get them to me from there. After this is done, you and I won’t talk about this.
Galen
Merv’s response was short and to the point. Got it. Will get the papers to Kim tonight.
Jill couldn’t believe what she was reading. The FULL extent of Merv’s files on Jill’s dad? What happened? Why did Galen all of a sudden want to blackmail his old buddy Walter Wentworth?
Jill thought back about what was happening in her life when this email was written. What was her dad doing three years ago? Had he been up to something that was threatening to Galen, or threatening to Kim?
She didn’t remember anything because, at that time in her life, she wasn’t paying any attention to her dad. Galen wrote that email in September of her freshman year. She was dating Ryan.
Jill read the email again. There were a number of strange things about it. For one, it started with “Dear Merv.” She had just read hundreds of emails between these guys and never once had any of them started a note with that sort of formality. Galen was more apt to jump right into the body and start the message. Was he being more formal to drive home the importance to Merv of the request? Was he trying to scare Merv?
The language was odd too. There was a coarse tone to the writing that was unlike all of Galen’s other emails. Remember when I told you about a favor?...You know what I mean…You and I won’t talk about this.
The Galen she had come to know in the emails spoke with more style. He wrote with a literary bent, saying things like, “bestow upon you the honor.”
The Festival of the Moon (Girls Wearing Black: Book Two) Page 25
