Jack actually blushed, and she laughed gently.
“I’ll let you give it to him,” Jack told her with a small smile.
Reyna turned serious now, unusual for her. “You tell my beautiful brother that I love him and need him here with me. You tell him.”
Jack nodded. “I will.”
Arthur looked grave, graver than Jack had ever seen him. “Tell him I… also need him, Sir Jack. Hast thou any idea where to look?”
Jack shook his head. “No, but I got a friend in Hollywood who could help—” He stopped suddenly, his face lighting up with a revelation. “Never mind that. I know exactly where he is.”
“I shalt go with thee,” Arthur said immediately, all else forgotten.
“Then who’ll go with me to buy the stuff?” Reyna asked cautiously. “I’m not a legal adult yet, remember?”
“She’s right, Arthur,” Jack put in. He didn’t really want Arthur to go. He needed time with Lance first. “The needs of the whole company, remember?”
Arthur sighed wearily. “Very well. But call the moment ye find him, Sir Jack, and bring him here to me at once.”
“I won’t fail you again, Arthur,” Jack insisted, and he meant it too. He gave Chris a high five and took off running through the tunnels.
“Ready, Arthur?” Reyna asked, checking her phone for any new pix of Esteban. Lately he’d been sending her some shirtless shots, the big show-off. But he had a fantastic bod, and Reyna didn’t mind in the least. Alas, no new ones. She looked up and saw Arthur fiddling with his phone. “Message from Lance?”
He shook his head. “Nay, I was going to text him, but it doth not seem to be working.”
She took it and tried to turn it on, but nothing happened.
“He forgot to charge it again,” piped up Chris, watching them from his chair. “I’ll do it.” He jumped off the chair, took Arthur’s phone, and plugged it into the generator.
A generous benefactor had given Arthur a sizable generator for when he might need power along his various journeys. Mostly he kept it here in The Hub and used it to power electric lights and electronics like these cellular phones. Its constant hum added almost musical accompaniment to the usual dripping of water.
“When’s Lance coming back, Arthur?” Chris asked in that sweetly innocent voice while plugging in the phone. “Will Jack find him?”
He finished and turned back to Arthur, his young face open and questioning. The king offered the best smile he could conjure under the circumstances. “Yes, Chris, soon.”
Reyna held out her phone casually. “You can use mine today and tonight for the operation too, if you need it. I’ll be with Este, so you can reach me on his phone.” She handed him her leather-encased phone. “Oh, and don’t look at the pictures.”
Arthur tossed her a puzzled look as the three of them headed out to her car.
JACK boarded the first Metro bus headed for Hollywood, slumped down in his seat with one arm draped across his face, and feigned sleep. He absolutely wasn’t in the mood to be gawked at or autograph-hounded as one of Arthur’s world-famous knights. He was too hyped up with anticipation, hoping and praying he was right and Lance would be there. Still be there, anyway, for he knew in his heart where his friend had spent the night.
And why not?
It was where he wished to be all the time too.
As expected, he found Lance off Cosmo Street, sitting behind the dumpster, leaning up against the dirty brick wall in exactly the spot where they’d found Mark’s body. Had it just been yesterday, Jack reflected, his heart lurching violently?
Lance looked tired and a bit disheveled, like a lost puppy, but otherwise unharmed. Jack felt an almost overpowering urge to scoop the younger boy into his arms and never let him go. But he held back.
Lance looked up, long hair draping his broadening shoulders, eyes pensive, but unstained by tears. He had not been crying—just meditating.
“You okay?” Jack asked, almost a whisper, fighting to control his voice.
Lance nodded.
“May I?” Jack indicated the spot beside him.
Lance nodded again, and Jack sat right beside him so their bodies touched. He needed that human contact and figured Lance needed it too. “I knew you’d be here,” Jack said with a sigh. “It’s where I would’ve gone.”
No answer.
“What are you thinking about?” Jack asked cautiously.
“Mark,” Lance answered hollowly. “And you.”
Jack eyed him quizzically. “Me?”
Lance turned his head, those sad green eyes settling on Jack. “When did you know you were in love with Mark?”
Jack’s heart leapt into his throat, and his breath momentarily stopped. The question blindsided him, and he took a moment before answering, to steady his uncertain voice. “You probably won’t believe this, but I… I knew it the first time I looked into those swimming pool eyes of his that seemed to go on forever.”
“Really?” Lance asked, a slight smile enlivening his sad features. “It was love at first sight?”
Jack nodded, his breath coming more easily now, the memories somehow not so painful as he would have thought. He cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on the far wall of the alley where someone had scrawled “love hurts.” Yeah, it sure as hell does, he told himself with another heavy sigh.
“I was already, you know, working, for a couple a months when Mark showed up on the boulevard one night. He was so small, so skinny, so blond, so lost, and so cute that I just knew I had to help him. So I walked up and introduced myself and asked how old he was.” Jack paused, the memories flooding him with simultaneous waves of delirious joy and unabashed anguish.
Lance leaned in, pressing his body even more closely against Jack’s, eagerly hanging on every word.
Jack pulled himself together, glancing shyly over at Lance. “Sorry, it’s just, you know, hard.”
Lance reached out and took his hand. Surprised, Jack flicked his eyes down to his hand, feeling the warmth of Lance’s smooth young fingers intertwined within his own, and squeezed back gratefully.
“He was so scared and so shy, and I was a pretty big kid, even at fifteen.” Jack had to catch his breath a second, and Lance gave his hand another little squeeze. “I guess I kinda scared him, you know, Lance?”
Lance nodded, eyes wide with anticipation.
“Anyway, I told him it was okay, that I’d protect him. That’s when he looked up, and that’s when I fell right into those amazing blue eyes. He smiled that shy little smile of his, said his name was Mark. I guess he told his story. I hardly remember. Everything blurred except those deep blue eyes that seemed to carry me straight to heaven. I felt like I’d never felt for any other boy, even the first boy I ever kissed. I knew at that moment I loved Mark more than anyone on this earth.”
He paused. “And I still do, even though he’s gone.” He choked back a wrenching sob.
Lance squeezed the hand more tightly, enjoying the closeness it brought him to Jack.
Silence filled the air with its invisible weight and just held them both in place a moment.
When Jack said nothing more, Lance gave his hand another little squeeze, then released it and slumped back against the wall. “Thanks, Jacky, for telling me.”
There was an unexpected moment of unalterable peace between them.
Then Jack sighed wearily. “Everyone misses you, Lance, and Arthur’s out of his mind with worry.”
Lance looked up. “He is?”
“Hell, yeah,” Jack confirmed, knowing he had to convince his friend, somehow, of his own worth. “We got a big operation goin’ down tonight, and Arthur can’t hardly concentrate cuz he misses you so much.”
“Is he mad at me?” Lance asked hesitantly. “Does he blame me?”
“Hell, no!” Jack insisted as forcefully as he could. “He loves you, man, I told you that, and he wants you back more’n anything.”
“Did he like, actually say that, you know, that he loves me?”
His shimmering eyes expanded with hope.
“No,” Jack admitted, seeing that hope vanish like the setting sun. “But he does.” He paused. “Reyna said she loves you too.”
“Reyna?” Lance looked surprised.
Jack blushed. “She kissed me on the lips and told me to pass it on to you.”
Lance chuckled at that. “Sounds like Reyna.” Then he blanched and eyed Jack fearfully, as though he’d just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “What did you tell her?”
Jack did his best to look mortified. “What kind of cheap ho do you think I am?”
At that, Lance actually laughed. Reyna had only been joking. Or had she?
“Don’t answer that!” Jack added quickly, with a slight smile.
And then Lance lost it. He couldn’t help himself. He busted up, and the two of them laughed and laughed for several moments, gradually shedding bits and pieces of loss and pain from around their wounded hearts like ice crystals from a windblown tree branch.
When their guilty laughter slowly eased to a stop, they sat a moment in silence. Then Jack put a strong, comforting arm around Lance’s shoulder, causing him to shiver.
“Come back, Lance. Arthur needs you. We all need you. I need you.”
Lance looked down a moment in shame, and then into Jack’s urgent eyes. “You don’t blame me either?”
Jack’s mouth dropped open. “For what?”
“For not thinking of that phone thing!” Lance insisted, the loss and guilt flooding back in, threatening to drown him.
“I didn’t think of it either, man,” Jack reminded him, almost choking on his own culpability. “Don’t you think I feel like shit too? My God, Lance, a few months ago we were both fucked-up kids who nobody ever expected would do anything good, and now we’re supposed to save the world?”
Lance dropped his gaze sadly. “Maybe not the world, but what about our friends?”
Jack sighed heavily. “If anyone should’ve saved Mark, it was me. He never even would’ve been out here if I’d just––”
“Don’t,” Lance admonished, grabbing Jack’s trembling hand again, locking his desolate green eyes on the other boy’s face. “Don’t go there! Please.”
Jack caught his breath, feeling a lump in his throat, and squeezed Lance’s hand desperately. “You know, Lance, what I finally figured out?”
Lance eyed him expectantly.
“It’s the things we don’t say to each other that make the biggest difference,” Jack whispered. “The things we don’t say.” He lowered his head in shame.
Lance nodded, comprehension splashing over him like a tsunami. That was true! Of course it was. He suddenly recalled all the things he hadn’t said, all the failures eating away at his heart, and nearly gagged with self-hatred.
“Jack, what happened, man?” he asked imploringly, his body feeling cold and numb, his eyes wide with need. “It seemed so good for a while, like we was gonna finally make something good outta ourselves, ya know? How did we fuck it all up?”
Jack sighed and tugged back the tears. “Cuz we’re kids, Lance,” he whispered forlornly. “We’re just kids, and kids fuck up.”
Lance hesitated, Jack’s words settling heavily around his heart, and then nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.” He paused. “But we lost Mark, man. He was so good, and the first real friend I ever had.”
Jack nodded and blinked back his tears. “Aren’t I the second?”
Now Lance nodded.
Jack squeezed the smaller boy close. “I’m still here, Lance. And I need you, man, more than ever. We’re the only ones who really loved Mark, you know?”
Lance knew and understood. They’d lost Mark, for which he’d never completely forgive himself, but they still had each other. And Jack was right—the things not said were so much more important! He had to face Arthur, had to tell him, had to not let those words go unspoken for another second.
He offered Jack a shy smile. “You’re right, Jacky. I been acting like a little kid. A stupid-ass little kid. C’mon, let’s go back. I need to tell d—Arthur something real important, somethin’ I shoulda said a long time back, somethin’ I can’t not say.”
Now Jack smiled, really smiled, for the first time since Mark’s death, and stood, dragging Lance to his feet. “Then let’s go.”
Lance jumped up and grabbed his skateboard.
“You should text Arthur that we’re coming home so he can stop worrying about you,” Jack suggested as he dusted some dirt and debris off Lance’s bright green shirt.
“Okay,” Lance agreed and rapidly thumbed in a message as they began walking toward the mouth of the alley. Jack saw him pause, as though considering what to say, and then Lance finished and returned the phone to his pocket. Feeling better than he had in days, he threw his arm around Jack’s neck and futilely tried to choke the bigger boy, maybe even take him down.
They were playfully wrestling, like two regular boys who didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders, and were thus distracted when two Asian men abruptly appeared at the entrance to the alley and clamped cloth-filled hands over each boy’s mouth. So sudden was the attack, and the chloroform in those cloths so potent, that both Lance and Jack were unconscious before either knew what had hit them.
A Hummer stretch limo rolled to a stop in front of the alley, and both boys, limp and unconscious, were dragged to the backseat and thrown in. One man even grabbed the skateboard. The entire kidnapping lasted mere seconds, and there were no witnesses. The limo quietly drove off into morning traffic.
Chapter 12
THE HUB was bustling with activity as nets were folded into large backpacks, and kids tinkered with the various smoke bombs to get the feel of them and how they worked. Arthur and Reyna had filled up the Escalade several times that morning, always returning to the storm drains and depositing their load of supplies just inside the main grate and then setting off to buy more.
Esteban and the older boys had made it their quest to secure or make those smoke bombs that would be used to flush out the “rats,” as Reyna called them. More and more of these devices were procured and brought to the same location and added to the overall supplies.
When knights began trickling in throughout the early afternoon, teams were assigned and needed supplies apportioned. Every team had at least one cell phone for communication and video recording. Most had more than one. One of the Asian boys who was a tech wizard of sorts, gathered the one hundred team leaders together and put all of their numbers into a group message on Reyna’s phone, so Arthur could alert every team simultaneously when to begin.
Alas, Arthur’s phone was still attempting to charge. In fact, it had not fully charged all morning while Arthur and Reyna were shopping, so the tech wizard, whose name was Thuy, but who’d been dubbed “Sir Techie” by Reyna, surmised that the battery must’ve gotten wet, not an unusual occurrence in a damp storm drain.
“No biggie,” Sir Techie told Arthur with a shrug. “I’ll find ya a new battery tomorrow, after the big raid.”
Arthur sighed dejectedly and nodded his thanks.
And so the king’s phone, with Lance’s final words inside its memory, lay silent and useless within The Hub, the boy’s message never opened.
Arthur paced nervously. The raid was set for dusk. His entire army would arrive shortly to collect their supplies and move out into the city to prepare their traps. All seemed to be moving according to plan. His knights, young though they may have been, were nothing if not resourceful and eager.
However, it was now 2:00 p.m., and neither Lance nor Jack had returned. Chris nervously tossed Jack’s football up and down and watched Arthur pace. Finally, Reyna sauntered up, already dressed for battle in her leather pants, boots, long-sleeved brown tunic, jerkin, and chain mail shirt. She handed Arthur her phone.
“Here’s my phone, Arthur,” she announced, tossing a wink Chris’s way. The small boy gave her the silent head nod. She opened the phone and showed Arthur the group Sir Te
chie had created in the messaging section. “Any text you send will go to every team captain at the same time.”
Arthur nodded, his mind far away. “Any text from Lance?” he asked hopefully, “Any message?”
Reyna shook her head, her features etched with worry. “What could have happened to them?”
Arthur sighed heavily. That shadow of doom had begun to block out the sun and the moon. “I do not know.”
“Did you ever text him from my phone to let him know you were using it?” Reyna asked. “If he thinks it’s me he might not answer, though I’ll kill him if he ignores me.” She flashed a halfhearted smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
Arthur’s eyes widened with comprehension. “What a fool am I! In our mad dash for supplies, Reyna, I didst forget.”
Awkwardly, he thumbed in a message to Lance, letting the boy know that he was using Reyna’s phone and to please contact him. Then he gazed deeply at the screen a moment, as though expecting Lance to text right back. The screen remained blank. Only his own reflection gazed back at him. The reflection of a distressed and guilt-ridden man. Sadly, he slipped the phone into his pocket.
Reyna cleared her throat. “Um, isn’t it time for you to call the mayor? You asked me to remind you.”
Arthur smiled warmly at her. “Thank you, Reyna, for your help and your loyalty. Ye have become one of my most trusted and dependable knights, and ye have become a better young woman, as well. I feel great pride in thee, my child.” He placed a hand lovingly on her shoulder.
Reyna actually did something she’d never done in her life—she blushed with embarrassment. Never before had she been so complimented, and certainly never by anyone she considered like a father. God knew her real father had never paid her a compliment. She actually felt speechless, another first.
“Um, thanks, Arthur,” she mumbled as genuine humility wrapped itself peacefully around her heart.
Then she looked up at Arthur, at the faraway look in his eyes, and placed both hands on his shoulders. “We’re gonna find Lance, Arthur, believe me. If he’s not back by the time we move out, I’ll go looking myself, soon as were done.” She paused and lowered her hands to her sides as she considered her next words, amazed that they were the truth. “I never thought I could take orders from anyone, especially a young kid like him. I always had all the answers.”
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