Ash's heart sank even lower. Elsbeth might as well be locked away on the moon. I'm so sorry, Auntie. But this isn't my moment.
Ash searched up the street for the boy. He had slithered to a different bush.
Ash recognized him. Spencer Marsh. He held a tiny video camera in front of his nose, pointed at the police cars.
That's what distracted Elsbeth?
Behind her, the first rays of the sun broke over the houses on the next block.
Ash crept over the roof and hopped to the next house, where some taller trees with overhanging branches would give her cover to cross the street.
28
Spencer's brain felt like boiling stew in his skull. What in the world had just happened?
Things had quieted down since the police had loaded the woman in the car. Broken glass littered the street. Plenty of radios squawked. A middle-aged man in a nice shirt and tie had been standing in the front doorway of the Prue residence for what seemed like forever, talking – not quite arguing – with two officers. He looked like he was having a really bad day.
Two more police cars parked in the middle of the street, cutting off his view of the damage. He slipped across the yard to hide behind another bush, but this view was no better.
He stopped recording and played back what he had. One the little screen, three cop car windshields exploded in a row, and a woman appeared on the last car. Who the hell was she?
Spencer played it again... and paused, freezing the second windshield halfway in its transformation from smooth darkness to fragmented white spiderwebbing.
The woman... was in the air. Twisting over the cop car like an Olympic gymnast.
This was so much weirder than a mere student's arrest. He didn't care if they brought Ashley Prue out of the house now. This frame alone could be his Pulitzer–
Suddenly the camera was gone. Instead of the frame, Spencer found himself staring at his empty fingers.
Ashley Prue stood beside him. She held the camera, staring at the image on the screen.
She was dressed for school, backpack and all, as if this had a chance of being a normal day. But her eyes were filling with tears, her lips pulling back from her teeth, like she was seeing a video of a puppy being killed or something.
She had combed her short dark hair over part of her face... trying to hide a nasty-looking black eye. "She knew she'd been recorded." Her eyes locked on Spencer, and she was shaking. "Another second, and she would have killed you."
Spencer's antennae were twitching like crazy. This girl was fast. He already knew that; he'd seen her jump into Drake's convertible. It was the same kind of blinding speed he'd seen this morning. "What is it with you people?" he asked.
"Do you know what you've done?" she hissed. "I should kill you myself!" She turned away from him and drew her arm back, twisting her body like she was about to hurl his camera into the stratosphere.
He reached for it. "Don't!"
She stopped. She stood with her back to him, her head down, her shoulders rounded. She held the camera close to her and cried quietly.
What, exactly, had Spencer done? What was really going on? "You're..." he began, "not a drug dealer."
She turned to him. Tears had wetted the purple skin under her eye.
"Right?" he asked.
She looked at the camera and sighed. Her thumb began pressing buttons.
"Hey, wait!" Spencer grabbed for the camera.
But she was too fast. Of course.
He glimpsed the "trash can" image on the screen, and she handed the camera back to him. He snatched it from her and checked the menu...
Deleted. There went his Pulitzer. "Thanks a lot," he muttered.
"Spencer..." Her voice was dead. "Aren't you late for class?"
"Don't brush me off. What's going on here? Who is that in the police car? Who are you?"
She didn't answer. She just looked past him, at something behind him. He turned, and saw the car with the woman inside pull away.
Ashley put her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes, as if the sight had caused her physical pain. At last she spoke, barely choking out the words. "You have no idea what danger you're in, being around me. Just stay away, okay? Forget this happened." She turned and started walking, her back to him, the house, and the police.
"Nope. Something weird is happening, and I'm going to find out what." He was about to follow her, but hesitated. She was walking openly on the sidewalk. The cops could spot her. He checked to see if any were looking this way, but no – they all watched the tow truck turning the corner, approaching from the far end of the street.
Spencer figured the coast was clear and started after Ashley.
But she wasn't on the sidewalk. She had vanished without a trace.
#
Ash sat on cold gray-white steel. The breeze was strong, this high, and chilled her. That was fine, she thought, as she shivered. Her world felt pretty much frozen over, anyway.
The water tower in Magnolia felt like it was a hundred feet high, a fat flying saucer on ten pipe-like legs. It was tall enough and broad enough that no one on the ground could see the top, so Ash had plenty of privacy. Assuming no one had seen her climb up here.
Hopping the black seven-foot fence at Thirty-Eighth and Prosper had been easy. The ladder running up one of the legs was surrounded by steel rings, like safety rails. Climbing it would have been like climbing inside a tube. But the ladder was blocked off at the bottom.
So Ash climbed the steel rings on the outside. Working her way across the underside of the flying saucer had made her throat dry and her palms sweat. She might have fallen to a quick, crunchy death.
No big deal.
She had to get a hold of herself. Yes, they had caught Elsbeth, but Ash still had the page. There were options, there were choices... Ash just didn't know what they were.
She had a fair view of her home about a mile to the north. She had watched the flashing yellow lights on the tow trucks as they hauled away the police cars one at a time. After a couple of hours, there were no more lights on the street.
Her cell phone buzzed. It was Dad.
She considered ignoring it. But how could she? "Hi, Dad."
"Ash, are you all right?" His voice sounded weak. There was a tremor in it, like in the voices of really old people. It was so startling to hear that Ash couldn't speak right away.
"I'm okay." The wind howled over the curve of the tower and seemed to carry away her voice.
"Where are you?"
"Dad... are you okay?"
"I'm sick, Ash. I've been talking with police for two hours. I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom and throw up. Twice. Do you know what they are saying about you? Do you know how much trouble you're in?"
"None of it's true, Dad." Ash stopped. A lump had formed in her throat, and she tried to swallow it away. "None of it."
"The worst day of my life, sweetheart. Worse than when your mother left. But that's not the issue now. Where are you?"
The lump was back, and tears threatened. "I never meant for any of this to happen."
"Ashley–"
"I don't want to say where I am. I'm safe. Pretty much." Ash stopped. They could track the location of her cell phone.
Oops. Better keep this short and turn the thing off.
"Are you running, Ash? Is that it?"
"Dad..."
"Listen to me. I've already made some calls to find a lawyer. If you haven't done anything wrong, you have to come home. I know it's scary, but... you can't run from the police, Ash. You and I can face this thing head on. It will be okay. But you have to come home now."
Ash wished she could tell him everything. I can't come home, Dad, because it isn't about me or you or even Elsbeth. It's about the piece of really old paper in my backpack. That's what they want, and they'll use the police and the lawyers and the courts like chess pawns to get it, and make you and me and Elsbeth just quietly disappear.
"Dad," Ash began. "I can't talk any mor
e. I'll see you soon... one way or another. I love you. Bye." She pressed the red "end" button.
After a moment, she shuffled on the cold steel until she was facing south. The gray light of late-morning overcast colored the buildings of downtown Seattle, and two ferries motored their way across Puget Sound.
Ash had never felt so alone.
She wasn't sure if it was a good idea, but she decided to risk one more phone call.
"Mule... this is Ash. I hope you know where your phone is, so you actually get this. If you do, meet me at that place off campus, where I tutored you for the first time. Remember? After school today. I... I just need somebody to talk to."
She ended the call. Her phone buzzed again. It was Dad calling her back.
Her phone was a liability. She turned it off and tossed it away. It slid down the water tower's curve, speeding up as it rounded the slope of the dome, out of sight.
Ash could hear the cell phone sliding on the steel faster and faster, heard it rattle off the catwalk at the flying saucer's edge, then a wide space of silence as it dropped a hundred feet. Then a distant crash as it shattered on the concrete.
29
In Magnolia's public library, Ash passed under the rows of dark wooden beams along the ceiling and the high windows on either side to the little study room. She grabbed a few random books off the shelves and spread them on the study room's table, disguising herself to the librarians as hard at work, and waited for Mule.
If he didn't show, she wasn't sure what she would do. The room was cramped and deathly silent, so at least she could be alone with her thoughts. Maybe she could formulate a plan. Or maybe she'd just wallow in the sudden misery of her life.
Her backpack lay on the corner of the table, beside the random books. Her fingers tapped the shoulder strap anxiously. She could barely make herself let go of the pack, given what was inside. If Elsbeth could get a message to her, could tell her anything, Ash knew what it would be.
Keep the page safe.
Mule appeared in the narrow window by the study room's door. He opened it cautiously, stepped in, and closed it behind him. He didn't release the door knob. "Hey," he said.
"Hey." Ash couldn't help but smile. The study room was small. But with Mule here, it seemed comically tiny, as if the architects had made a mistake.
Mule stayed by the door. "So..."
Ash wasn't sure how fast the rumor mill at school had churned out stories about her. "Did you hear anything about me today?"
"No."
She should have known. Mule wasn't really the type to catch gossip. "That's good. You will by tomorrow."
Mule sighed uncomfortably, his back still against the door. "Are you mad at me?"
"No! I'm..."
"Because the last time we talked, you pretty much couldn't stand me."
Mule and Drake. Fighting. Drake's disappearance.
The pain of that came back suddenly. Had she forgotten? No, she'd just pushed it down. Now that Elsbeth had been taken, it hurt that much more.
Everybody's disappearing, she thought.
Even me.
Mule looked like he was dreading her answer. "Oh, Mule," she said. "I'm not mad at you! I need you. Sit down."
Mule blinked, grinned, and sat down. "Good. I don't like it when you're mad at me. It makes my teeth hurt." He stopped and leaned forward. "Your eye..."
Ash sighed. "You should see the other guy."
"That's a joke, right?"
"Yeah." She wished she had a mask. A paper bag, maybe. "The other guy was made of concrete."
Mule grunted. "So... there's nobody I need to kill?"
"Definitely not."
He frowned, contemplating her face. "Good color. Nice shape to it. I declare that a righteous shiner."
Not surprising. "I figured you'd like it."
"Seriously. Something like that would make me look tough. But on a girl your size, no offense, the effect is total badass."
That actually made her feel a little better.
"So," Mule said. "Ditched school today, huh?"
Ash took a deep breath. Here goes. "This morning... my Aunt Elsbeth was arrested."
"Wow. What for?"
"Assault, probably. Damaging city property, I don't know. I don't think it's going to matter. As soon as they realize who they've got, they'll make up something more serious."
Mule grunted thoughtfully. "Sounds intense. Actually, sounds paranoid. What do you mean, who they've got?"
"Elsbeth and I are... well, we're up to something. And there's a secret organization out to stop us. And they can use the police against us."
Mule nodded. "I knew something was going on."
Ash stared at him. "You believe me?"
"I've been trying to work it out on my own. You know, in my spare time." Mule stroked the scar on his chin. "Your Aunt Elsbeth. She's CIA, right? Something like that?"
Ash smiled. "Mule, have I ever told you that you're sort of adorable?"
Mule blushed. He glanced at the narrow window and cleared his throat. "Hm. So..."
Ash shouldn't have said that. Things were still delicate between them. "She's not CIA. But that might be close enough for now."
"That's awesome." Mule nodded slowly. "It sounds like you're thinking about busting her out."
Ash hadn't the slightest idea of what she might do. She had spent the day just trying to hold herself together. But the moment Mule uttered the words, they locked into her mind like exactly the right puzzle pieces. "Yeah, I suppose so. A rescue. That might be what I have to do."
"Cool."
"Will you help me?"
Mule watched her for a long moment, his eyes gradually narrowing. "Ash... I don't know how to say this."
Ash shrugged. "We're past that now, aren't we?"
"Maybe we are. People don't really... bust other people out of prison, you know? It doesn't actually happen. Ever."
He was right. But he didn't have to say it. "So why'd you mention it?" she asked. "Were you just kidding?"
"I don't kid much. I just talk without paying attention to what I'm saying."
Ash sighed. She couldn't shake images of armed guards and iron gates from her mind. It wasn't a plan. It was just crazy.
None of this was fair. Mr. Alexander and his people could just whip up a fake warrant and poof: cop cars in her driveway. Ash couldn't take on the whole justice system. If only she could get at Mr. Alexander more directly. Catch him with his pants down.
Not a nice image.
And then the answer came to her, as sly and quiet as any good idea.
"Drake," she said.
"Huh?"
"That's Mr. Alexander's weak link." Spy back... but Ash had never gotten the chance.
"Probably. But I thought we were talking about your Aunt Elsbeth."
"We are. Mr. Alexander, he's... well, he's a bad guy. He might be the bad guy."
Mule's jaw dropped. "The principal?"
"Yeah."
"That's perfect. I should have guessed."
A strange energy coursed through her. It felt good. "I can get to Elsbeth through the principal. And I can get to the principal through Drake. That's it!"
Mule had a cautious look. "Could be. There's the problem of nobody knowing where the hell he is."
Ash pressed her lips together. "That's true."
"Although I still think he ran home to his mama."
Ash arched an eyebrow. His mama? Mr. Alexander had been alone in that house. Where was Drake's mother?
Mule's cell phone rang. He stood, and as he fished it out of his jeans pocket, Ash saw that it was not another cheapo flip-phone, but a broad, flat smartphone. He had chained it to a belt loop. Mule tugged the chain and grinned sheepishly. "My dad's idea."
Ash nodded. "Good thinking."
Mule unclipped the smartphone, frowned at the number on the screen, and muttered, "Who's this?" He swiped a finger across the screen and put the phone to his ear.
"Yo!" he barked. His idea of hello,
Ash knew.
He paused, listening. "You've got to be kidding me."
He paused some more. "Maybe. What's it to you?"
Another pause. "Well... maybe she doesn't want to talk to you."
Ash felt a bolt of panic. She leapt from her chair, stood on the table, and snatched the phone away from him.
She pressed it to her ear. "Who is this?"
"Ashley?" said the voice on the phone. "Is that you? It's Spencer Marsh."
"Oh." Her heart sank. She realized that for a split second, she thought it might be Drake.
But her life was not destined to be so easy.
"Listen," he said. "I've spent the whole day digging into your case. I found the Jane Doe listed as arrested at your address this morning. I've seen the police report. Crazy stuff keeps appearing in her file – every time I refresh the page, there's something new. She's at Seattle City Corrections now, but the day after tomorrow, at seven AM, she's scheduled to be transferred. To Supermax. Do you know what that is?"
"Spencer," Ash began.
He cut her off. "It's an ultra-high security prison in Colorado. They keep the Unabomber there. And Terry Nichols, and some of the guys who planned Nine Eleven. Somebody thinks your Jane Doe is one evil chick!"
So the enemy knew who they had captured. And had already set up Elsbeth's disappearance. Ash didn't have much time.
Mule stared at her face. "Holy crap," he said. "What's wrong?"
Ash thought fast. "Spencer–"
"Now look," Spencer said. "The way I see it, you need me. Your only chance is the press. You have to get your story out to the world. I've got the connections you need. I can help you. I want you to meet me for an interview. Right now. Can you do that?"
"Principal Alexander," Ash said. "He's divorced, isn't he?"
"What?" Spencer nearly exploded. "Who?"
"Focus, Spencer. The Principal. He's no longer married to Drake Alexander's mother."
"Well, no. But–"
"Do you have her name and address?"
#
A minute later, as Mule hooked his phone back on its chain, Ash threw the backpack on her shoulder and hurried out of the study room, toward the library’s exit.
“Slow down,” Mule called, thumping after her. “I’m coming too, you know.”
Ninja Girl: The Nine Wiles Page 15
