Moon Rise

by Marilee Brothers

  "Beck!” I screamed and started running toward him.

  He yelled, “Allie, no!” right before I slammed into what felt like a concrete wall. The impact knocked me into the ground with such force, I lay there, stunned, unable to draw a breath. My chest convulsed. I prayed for air. Then, finally, my diaphragm relaxed and air, blessed air, rushed into my lungs. I struggled to my feet, my eyes on Shane, totally confused about who or what had blocked me.

  He held a bloody knife in his right hand. Smiling like he'd just won the lottery, he said “Oh, good, you're here. It's only fair since you're the one who caused all this. Boyfriend isn't so tough now, huh?"

  I had to get Shane's focus off Beck. I had to buy some time.

  I took cautious steps toward the perimeter. “You want the moonstone, Shane?” I called. “You can have it.” Just try and take it off me, you jerk.

  As I drew closer, I could see Shane was wearing a pendant in the shape of an inverted triangle. The light dancing on its surface was more than the sun's reflection. A scarcely visible beam of light, shot from the Shane's pendant and intersected with the one worn by Jeanette Yeager. Benny must have been wearing a pendant too, because the beam of light shimmered between the three of them, forming a perfect triangle, the invisible barrier I'd bashed into.

  What I really needed right now was a big old spray can of Whup Ass. Unfortunately, I had only my wits and whatever magic I could summon.

  "It's all yours, Shane. Come and get it.” I said, stepping closer.

  "Don't be stupid, Shane,” Benny yelled.

  Okay, at least Benny knew they couldn't take it from me.

  I heard sharp inhalation behind me and a voice I recognized as Nicole Bradford's yelled, “Snakes!"

  When I jerked my gaze away from Shane, swear to God, I think my heart stopped. An enormous, mottled, brown rattlesnake slithered around the base of a concrete bench. Shaking its rattles in warning, the snake advanced toward the two girls trapped between the bench and one side of the triangle. The snake's head bobbed and weaved as it tracked its prey, forked tongue flicking the air. White with terror, the girls began inching sideways.

  Two more thick-bodied snakes crawled from Jeanette Yeager's corner. I wasn't surprised.

  It takes one to know one. Had she released the snakes or conjured them up using magic? It didn't matter, because the sight of Miss Yeager and the snakes filled me with such rage, all traces of fear vanished. I would and could kick some Trimark butt!

  Okay, Allie. Time for some serious magic. A few months ago I'd made Blaster the bull trot backwards. Would my telekinetic power work on snakes? I focused on the snake, coiled and ready to strike one of the girls. I summoned my power, gratified when the familiar aura appeared, bathing my snake friend in a pink glow.

  I'm not sure if I yelled the words “Stop! Back off!” or just thought them, but the snake suddenly stopped swaying and slithered back toward Miss Yeager.

  One down, two to go.

  Before I could focus on the next snake, a small voice behind me said, “Oh, no!"

  Reluctantly, I reined in the TKP and shook my head to banish the aura. Nicole grabbed my arm and pointed at the puddles of melted snow that were now caldrons of steaming, bubbling mud. “Look what Benny did."

  No, this couldn't be happening! We watched in horror as each small puddle grew in size. The boiling-hot mud spread outward and began oozing across the ground toward the people trapped inside the triangle.

  Panic erupted. Those who were able to move danced this way and that, trying to avoid danger. Even more pathetic were those immobilized by previous injuries, victims of Shane's wicked knife or stunned by the triangle's electrified perimeter. All they could do was scream out their terror.

  I saw a blur of movement as a snake arched its head to strike. Boiling mud began to spew. In a matter of seconds, the trapped would have to make an awful choice. Death by rattlesnake bite or third-degree burns. Their screams tore at my heart.

  Nicole wailed, “We have to do something."

  "Allie!” Beck's voice was tight with pain. “It only takes one."

  Shane snarled, “Shut up,” but made no move toward Beck. A quick glance told me the Trimarks were having trouble holding the perimeter while unleashing their magic. Shane was shaking uncontrollably, his face ghost-white and beaded with sweat.

  Suddenly, I understood what Beck was trying to tell me.

  If I took out Shane, Miss Yeager or Benny, the triangle would collapse. You can do it, Allie. You're a Star Seeker. Now! It has to be now!

  "Shane!” I screamed as a blast of power surged into my mind. “You're toast!"

  A jolt of pure psychic energy arced between my body and Shane's. He gave a hoarse scream and flew backward. I cried out in relief as the triangle collapsed.

  The snakes slithered backward and disappeared.

  Boiling pools of mud were once again puddles of melting snow.

  All three Trimarks ran for their getaway car, Miss Yeager's Honda. Nicole made a flying tackle for Benny and missed. After Benny and Shane dove into the back seat, Miss Yeager gunned the motor, and the car shot out of the alley just minutes ahead of the sheriff.

  I sat in the mud, cradling Beck in my arms and watched the paramedics running toward us.

  I held his hand while they applied a tourniquet and loaded him onto a gurney. Before they wheeled him away, he squeezed my hand. “This isn't good."

  My heart stuttered in my chest as I scanned his body for more injuries. “Did a snake bite you?"

  He managed a faint smile. “No, no, it's not that. It's just that now I owe you one."

  I touched his face then leaned close and whispered. “You're wrong. Now, we're even."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I sat on the floor outside Vista Valley Regional's emergency room with my head buried in my arms, listening to the moans and cries of pain coming through the wall. Melissa was with Beck. I'd been sitting at my post for over an hour as distraught family members and a bunch of people in hospital scrubs rushed in and out. The press, clamoring for information on the strange knifing incident at Peacock Flats High, had been banished to a nearby waiting room. I was trying to keep a low profile, so I wouldn't be kicked out, too.

  I'd hitched a ride with Beck in the ambulance. When the medics inserted an IV tube in his arm, I got worried. Beck was only half human. Maybe he was like a Vulcan, maybe his blood was different, and whatever they were pumping into his veins would hurt him.

  I told one of the guys, “He has a cell phone in his coat pocket. I should call his mother."

  After Melissa recovered from the news her son had been stabbed, she said she'd meet us at the hospital and not to worry about the IV situation, adding, “But, you better believe I'll have him out of there before night fall."

  I'd imagined Beck, muscles bulging, bursting out of his hospital gown surrounded by fascinated female medical personnel.

  My reverie was interrupted by the squeak-squeak-squeak of a nurse's cushioned shoes coming to a halt directly in front of me.

  "You!"

  My gaze traveled upward and stopped at the top of the starched white nurse's hat perched on the head of A. Haugen, boss nurse. She and I had history.

  She peered down at me. “Why am I not surprised to see you here? You were there, huh? The school incident?"

  I scrambled to my feet, biting my lip to hold back the tears. I nodded, unable to find my voice.

  She inclined her head toward the ER. “Someone special inside?"

  In a quavering voice, I said, “They won't let me in."

  She grabbed my arm. “Well, guess what? If you're with me, you can go anywhere you want."

  She marched me through the swinging doors, still keeping a firm grip on my arm. Suddenly, overwhelmed by the sights, smells and sounds of medical personnel laboring over people I knew, I dug in my heels and lurched to a stop.

  Nurse Haugen looked me over again. “If you pass out, you'r
e on your own."

  I knew she didn't mean it and managed a wan smile. “Yeah, right."

  She pulled me out of the way as a guy rushed by us pushing a metal cart loaded with medical equipment.

  "Who are we looking for?"

  "A friend of mine,” I said. “His name's Beck Bradford."

  The large room held a series of cubicles, only partially screened by half-drawn curtains. As Nurse Haugen pulled me along, I spotted tough little Luella Hoptowit, the hero of our volleyball match, glaring through a curtain crack.

  I poked my head through the opening. “Oh my God, Luella! I didn't realize you'd been hurt."

  Her left arm was bandaged, but she was sitting straight up in the bed, her dark eyes snapping with anger. In other words, she looked perfectly normal. “No biggie,” she said. “That stupid Shane Boldt was waving his knife around. I tried to get away, and he cut me."

  I suddenly realized she'd been one of the two people I'd seen lying on the ground behind Mr. Hostetler. “I'm really glad you're okay."

  After wishing her well, I followed Nurse Haugen to Beck's cubicle. He was naked to the waist, and two guys were working on his left arm. Melissa stood on the other side of the bed, holding his right hand. Nicole was at the foot of the bed, her eyes puffy and red from crying.

  "Behave yourself,” Nurse Haugen told me and squeaked away before I could thank her.

  Nicole took my arm and whispered, “I should have listened to you. It's my fault my brother got hurt."

  I'd been down that road before and knew what it cost in pain and guilt. “No way,” I whispered back. “Shane's the one who hurt him. Shane, Benny and Miss Yeager. Trimarks. All of them. That's who you should blame."

  We stood side by side, clinging to each other and watched the doctors work on Beck. Their voices were low, but I caught bits of their conversation.

  "Paramedics said his left arm was slashed to the bone ... not!"

  "Yeah, that's weird ... just needs stitches."

  Nicole whispered, “We half-demons are fast healers."

  I remembered Beck's left arm dangling limp and helpless in the ambulance. “No kidding."

  A nurse popped through the curtain. “Which one of you kids was responsible for chasing away the bad guys?” Without waiting for an answer, she said, “CNN called. Whoever it was, they want an interview via satellite."

  "Not me,” I said.

  The nurse's eyes danced with excitement and she told Beck, “There you go, stud. Your fifteen minutes of fame."

  "Not me,” Beck said. We made eye contact. This wasn't good. The CNN anchor fired questions like she was throwing poison darts. When she didn't like the answer, she'd squint into the camera and, in a voice dripping with sarcasm, say, “Oh, really?"

  We needed to get our stories straight. After the docs left, we had to wait for Beck's discharge papers. We agreed to the following: Mr. Hostetler was the hero. Injured and lying helpless on the ground, he'd saved lives by ordering students into the building. Shane, a gang member, had a grudge against Beck as the result of their fight after the football game. He wanted payback, and if a few other people got injured in the process, so what?

  My role? Seeing my boyfriend in danger, I threw caution to the wind and tried to help him.

  We went on to say that Shane's two accomplices released poisonous snakes in order to create havoc and facilitate their escape. The boiling mud and resultant burns were impossible to explain. Beck simply shrugged and shook his head. I faked a fit of hysteria and screamed, “Please don't make me talk about it. I can't bear it!"

  As far as Miss Yeager was concerned, we would imply her relationship to Shane was more than student and counselor, knowing the press would be all over it like ants on a discarded Pop Tart.

  As the nurse wheeled Beck out of the ER, we passed Mr. Hostetler's cubicle. His arms and legs had been badly burned when he tried to break through the triangle and lead kids to safety. His ex wife, tears running down her cheeks, watched silently as their daughter and son leaned over the bed rails, looking confused and upset.

  I left Beck and ducked in for a quick word. When Mr. Hostetler spotted me, he lifted a hand. “Come closer, Allie."

  His voice was hoarse, his face etched with pain.

  I leaned over the railing and whispered, “Thanks for what you did today. You were so brave."

  He said, “You're the hero, kid. You broke the triangle. I don't know how you did it, but thanks."

  I whispered back, “Our secret ... okay?"

  He smiled and winked. “You got it."

  I straightened up and smiled at the kids. I'd seen them hanging out after school in Mr. Hostettler's office. The daughter, probably twelve or thirteen, was a carbon copy of her mom. The boy looked entirely different, not surprising since it was common knowledge he'd been adopted. The rumor was he'd been tossed in a dumpster. I really hoped it wasn't true. Nobody should start life in a trash can.

  The daughter gave me a shy smile. The boy stared at me, wide-eyed and unblinking. Undersized with lank, dark hair falling across his forehead, the kid was the whitest person I'd ever seen. A pulsating blue vein in his temple was clearly visible through his pale, almost translucent skin. His eyes were huge and the palest possible shade of blue. He continued to gaze up at me with an expression I can only describe as wonder. Trust me, it was weird.

  "Uh, hi,” I said.

  Finally, the kid blinked. “You're the one."

  "Excuse me?” I said.

  Mr. Hostetler said, “Yeah, Chad, she's the one. She helped me out today."

  Chad shook his head violently. “No, no, that's not what I meant."

  His dad turned his face away and sighed.

  Time for Allie to split.

  "Well, gotta go. Good luck, Mr. Hostetler. I'll come visit you real soon. Bye, kids."

  I felt Chad Hostetler watching me all the way to the elevator.

  I caught up with the Bradfords outside. Melissa was parked in front of the door with the motor running. A hospital aide, with a firm grip on Beck's good arm, helped him into the car.

  I was just about to walk to the other side of the car and get in the back seat with Nicole when I heard, “Allie, wait!"

  I looked up to see Chad's slight figure framed in the doorway. He walked toward me slowly. I met him halfway. He handed me a folded piece of paper, turned and ran back inside.

  Printed in block letters, the words jumped off the page.

  They are all around you. I can see them.

  He'd signed it “Your friend, Chad,” followed by his phone number.

  I swallowed hard and stuffed the note in my coat pocket. Later. I'd think about it later.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Thirty

  Wracked with guilt, Faye returned the next day and refused to let me out of her sight. She was making me nuts ... so nuts I was almost happy when the FBI came calling. I'd been expecting Ruth Wheeler or her partner, the creepy guy with the bad comb-over. But the man who knocked on the trailer door was a complete stranger. Maybe sometime soon I'd figure out what was up with Ruth.

  Apple-cheeked with laugh crinkles framing merry blue eyes, he was dressed casually in jeans, boots and a green parka. He flashed his ID and introduced himself. “I'm Dennis McCarty. Can I come in?"

  I glanced around at Faye, who was peering over my shoulder. Her eyes became glittering slits of fury, her hands fisted at her sides. I knew an explosion was coming and braced myself.

  "Where the hell were you when my daughter was in danger?” she yelled. “And now you want to come in and talk about it? You people are unbelievable!"

  She flung herself onto the couch and folded her arms across her chest, one eye twitching ominously.

  I whispered to Agent McCarty, “No problem. She'll get over it."

  He whispered back, “Maybe I'd better not tell her your dad's in the car."

  I glanced at the dark blue sedan and, sure enough, Mike Purdy was in the passenger seat. He lifted a h
and. I waved back. All at once, the situation struck me as hilariously funny, and I lapsed into a fit of giggles.

  "This is no laughing matter, Allie,” my mother said.

  I clapped a hand over my mouth and stepped back so the agent could enter our tiny living room. Rest assured, I checked his hand before I let him in. He had a star smack dab in the middle of his Venus mound.

  Still snickering, I pointed him toward the dinette. “You can sit over there. Do you want coffee? Where's Ruth Wheeler? What took you so long? Why are you here?"

  My barrage of questions seemed to puzzle him. He settled himself in the dinette, his brows drawn together in confusion.

  Faye, apparently over her snit, crossed to the stove and poured a cup of coffee. She set it on the table in front of McCarty. “For God's sake, Allie, you just asked him four questions. Give the man a break."

  I sat across from the agent. Faye slid in beside me.

  "What happened to Ruth? She was supposed to be here a long time ago,” I asked.

  McCarty's blue eyes lost their twinkle. He cleared his throat and gripped the edge of the table. “Ruth is dead. Her car was recovered from Lake Keechelus two days ago."

  "Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head in denial. Faye grabbed my hand and held on tight.

  McCarty continued, “When you called your dad and told him Ruth was a no-show, we started looking for her. As near as we can figure out, she was driving over Snoqualmie Pass on her way over here when her car went into the lake. She had no ID on her, so her body was unclaimed until now."

  "Was it an accident?” Faye said.

  "We'll know more after the car's been examined. She may have been forced off the road."

  "But who would have known her plans?” I demanded. My voice was shrill with anxiety. I didn't need another death on my conscience.

  He shook his head sadly. ‘I'm sorry, Allie. I wish I knew. I just don't have the answers right now."

  We sat quietly for a moment, remembering Ruth Wheeler. A fellow Star Seeker, she'd generously offered her assistance whenever I needed it, no questions asked. And now she was dead.

  McCarty stared out the window a while and then took a big slurp of coffee. “Actually, kiddo, I'm here about another matter."