Rogue

by Mark Frost

  “OH, NO,” said Jericho.

  Will saw where he was looking and took off ahead of the others, reaching them almost instantly. Under a constant shower of dust, gravel, and small stones, Elise and Ajay were both lying on the ground behind the sheared-off base.

  Will threw himself to the ground beside them. He couldn’t tell where they’d been hit, but they were both lying still—bruised and bleeding in a number of places—and neither of them appeared to be breathing.

  The worst thing, by far, was this: Their voices were gone from his head. Stilled. He couldn’t hear or find them.

  He didn’t know what to do. He felt like the arc had landed on him. He couldn’t tell how much time went by.

  “That thing,” said Jericho, who was standing over him now, in human form. “That thing in your pack.”

  “What thing?”

  “The disc,” said Nick, who was suddenly standing next to Jericho.

  Will looked at his pack, beside him on the ground. The words made no sense—he didn’t even know what they meant—but he picked up the pack and emptied it on the ground.

  He saw the disc hit the dirt and remembered. Round, silver, six inches across.

  The disc he’d taken from Franklin’s display case. The healing disc.

  He picked it up, turned it around, looking for some kind of switch. Why hadn’t he taken the time to ask the old man how it worked?

  He pressed it as hard as he could with both hands and the thing hummed to life, pulsing with energy. Then he looked down at both his friends, cold and inert, lying a few feet apart.

  Franklin’s voice echoed in his head: “It’s astonishingly effective at repairing human tissue at the cellular level. They work only once but fortunately they’re not difficult to produce.”

  “What are you waiting for?” asked Nick.

  “It’s no good,” said Will.

  “Why, what are you talking about?” said Jericho. “Use the damn thing.”

  “It only works once,” he said; then he looked up at them. “Who do I use it on?”

  Neither of them knew what to say.

  “Ajay,” said Brooke.

  She knelt down next to him. Calm and clear, she looked him directly in the eye.

  “Use it on Ajay, Will,” she said.

  Solemnly focused, Brooke laid both of her hands on Elise, cradling her head. Unsure of how to make it function, Will laid the disc on Ajay’s chest. He felt the thing fill with energy, then distribute it out into Ajay’s body. He directed his mind into the disc and let his intuition guide him, moving the disc around to the various injury sites—there were quite a few—and waiting for feedback from the disc to guide him on how to deploy it.

  It took minutes, not seconds, and he knew it was a race against time. He blinked on the Grid and watched the energy moving into and through Ajay, fighting the injuries, winning some battles, failing others. He paid particular interest to Ajay’s head, knowing that he was watching him fight for his life.

  When he sensed the disc was running out of juice, Will added some of his own, any way he knew how and a few he just guessed at. He looked up, desperate, and his urgency got through to the others. Jericho knelt beside him and laid his hands on Ajay as well, and then Nick did the same, and then he realized Brooke was there, placing her hands on top of theirs, and Elise was stirring behind her on the ground, breathing again, color returning to her face.

  Just then the disc went dark and cold in his hands. Out of power. Will tossed it aside. Everyone stopped. For a long moment, Ajay still looked lifeless…and then he took a breath and opened his eyes and saw his friends looking down at him.

  “I can’t even begin to tell you how interesting that was,” said Ajay.

  Dave appeared beside them, back in human form again, battered and bruised and limping.

  “Bloodied and beaten but these drongos are resilient, I gotta give ’em that. They’re regrouping, and they’re pretty sauced about it—Skizzers, mate, don’t tell me you didn’t cut the hole yet!”

  Will tossed him the Carver. “Knock yourself out.”

  Dave switched on the Carver. Will pulled Ajay into his arms and held him for a while and by then Nick had gently carried Elise over to him. When Will put his arms around her and felt the warmth of her body and caught the scent of her hair, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to let go.

  He saw Brooke over Elise’s shoulder, sobbing and saying how sorry she was to anyone around her. Mostly Nick, who was holding her—in a forgiving way—and who was apparently the only one interested in listening.

  Standing nearby—standing guard—Jericho took out a handkerchief. He apparently had something in his eye.

  WILL’S RULES FOR LIVING #18:

  ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE. AND SOME FRIENDS YOU CAN TRUST. AND A LITTLE LUCK DOESN’T HURT EITHER.

  August 31

  Dear Dad,

  I’ve been meaning to write you for way too long now. I don’t know where you are, obviously, so I don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but should you ever find it, or if it finds its way to you, I wanted you to know what happened.

  I know the whole story now. Why you ran from the Center, the reasons you hid me, why we lived the way we did, and why you never told me the truth. I was angry and confused about it a lot of the time, growing up. I got pretty good at hiding my feelings then, but I’m sure you must have sensed it. Then again, you also had plenty of reasons not to call me on it.

  I felt even more messed up about it when I found out who you really are. All I can say now is, after getting to know your father, Franklin—I can’t bring myself to call him my grandfather—I don’t think I would have done anything differently myself. You did the best you could in a crazy situation.

  After they took you in Ojai, I saw you only that one time at the Crag—when he was using you to get me to do what he wanted, just as he was using me to do the same to you. I don’t even know if you saw me then. And I haven’t seen you since. But I’m choosing to believe you’re still alive, somewhere, just like I did after the plane crash.

  Hope is the last thing you can afford to lose, right? I think that was one of the best Rules you gave me. Thanks for those, by the way. They really got me through, more than you’ll ever know.

  I’ve got a great group of friends here—really “talented” ones, like I am, in a lot of different ways, but you know all about that. It’s not the talents that make them special, although that certainly makes all of us unusual. It’s not random bits of bizarre DNA that make them great, either. It’s the content of their characters.

  For instance: They could’ve used a hundred excuses to back down when I asked for their help, but they never hesitated. We took the fight right to Franklin, the Knights, and the Makers before they could do any more damage. Turned out we had to go into the Never-Was to finish that job, and we tore it up one side and down the other. No brag, just fact. Those creeps won’t be making any more runs at our side of the fence for a long time.

  When we came back out—five weeks ago now—nothing was how we expected it to be. Franklin had told me that if I used the Carver, we’d come back into our world only a second or so after we’d left. Like most everything else in his life, he got that one wrong, too.

  Almost ten days had gone by. Franklin was long gone, and so were all of his Knights cronies on campus, including the man who owned the Crag, Stan Haxley. Nobody’s seen or heard from any of them since.

  We had another group of friends cover for us while we were in the Never-Was. A traveling troupe of pro wrestlers that my buddy Nick found. One of them was “talented,” too—turns out he’s the son of a guy you used to know as Jolly Nepsted, the boys’ locker room attendant at the Center. I’m guessing you probably know his story; he was one of the first Paladins, in Franklin’s group way back when. Anyway, reuniting Nepsted—who’d become a friend of ours—with his son…well, when we saw how that turned out, it made everything else we had to go through seem worthwhile.

  There was a k
nock at the door. Nick stuck his head in.

  “Dude, we’re waiting for you,” he said. “Dinner at the Rathskeller, and Ajay’s buying. He just cashed his first check for one of those gizmotrons he cooked up in the lab. And Coach is coming, too. I just heard from him.”

  “Give me five minutes,” said Will, chewing on the end of his pen.

  “And get this: Coach is bringing his wife.”

  “Coach is married?”

  “Who knew?”

  “I can’t even picture it. All right, get out of here, let me finish—”

  “Five minutes, you promise?”

  “Yes!” Will tossed a barrage of throw cushions at the door—without using his hands.

  “Don’t make me send Elise in after you,” said Nick, then closed the door.

  Will started writing again.

  It’s hard to say what’s going to happen next. First semester of our junior year starts next week. The good news is, as far as we know, nobody else on the Center’s staff or faculty seems to have been mixed up with the Knights. The few kids we knew were involved either already graduated or suddenly “transferred” over the summer. Or so we’re told.

  That includes Brooke, our roommate whose parents were long-time Knights, but Headmaster Rourke has stepped up to the plate big-time in her case. Brooke’s father, the former ambassador, has suddenly been called to some distant, undisclosed location on “diplomatic assignment”—and if you believe that, I’d like to sell you shares in this new thing I’ve invented called the Internet. Mr. Rourke has arranged for Brooke to be “studying in Europe” while her family’s away, which means stashing her out of the Knights’ reach so they can’t put her brain through another wash cycle. She’d pretty much come out of that tailspin since we got back, I’m happy to report. If the Knights have any desire to live, they’d better not mess with her again.

  Which leads me to admit that we don’t completely know how much trouble might still be left out there. The Center seems safe for now, and we’re bonded for life, my friends and me. I’m good with that. While we’re here, we’re keeping an eye out for other “talented” individuals who come along. There could be a lot more of them out there—Franklin kept the Prophecy program going for at least six years that we know about—and we think the Center still has all those kids on their radar.

  Another knock at the door and Ajay stuck his head in—his even bigger head, which seemed to have grown another hat size since they’d returned.

  “I’ve been experiencing some fascinating insights about a great number of subjects,” said Ajay. “One of which I’d like to share with you, if you have a moment.”

  “Ajay, everybody’s bugging me to get ready to go out.” Then Will saw how disappointed he looked. “All right, lay it on me.”

  “Write this down so you don’t forget it.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Then Will wrote down what Ajay told him, word for word.

  “Now, did anyone mention to you that I’m buying dinner?” Ajay asked.

  “Yes. Nick.”

  “The money was deposited this afternoon directly to an offshore account I’ve created.” Ajay grinned.

  “Why offshore?”

  “My father calls it ‘walking around money.’ A rainy day fund, completely untraceable. So you may rest assured, Will, that whatever good deed we next decide to undertake, as a result of my newly inspired tinkering, we will have at our disposal, as Nick would say, a crap-ton of capital. Sorry, I won’t keep you another moment.”

  Ajay left and closed the door.

  In the meantime, we’re keeping it all on the down-low around here. We like the idea of just being regular students for a while. None of us really knows how that feels, after all.

  By the way, I’m writing down my own rules now. I think that’s something you encouraged me to do, right? Someday I hope I get a chance to show ’em to you, Dad. I’m not giving up on that. If I’ve learned anything from my friend Dave—I’ll try to explain him someday, but that’ll take a while—it’s this:

  WILL’S RULES FOR LIVING #19:

  DON’T EVER GIVE UP ON ANYBODY.

  Something dropped heavily onto Will’s desk. Startled, he looked over from the bed where he was propped against the headboard. He got up and walked over to see what it was.

  A pair of dark glasses was lying there. Wayfarers, sleek and metallic. And next to them a key—a really strange-looking key, gleaming silver, crooked and old-fashioned, like one you might use on a castle door.

  With it was a note, the size of a formal invitation, on creamy white stock with a gold band around the margins—real gold, it seemed. When he picked it up, he heard Dave’s voice as the following words appeared on the paper:

  Dear Will: As mop-up operations in the n-w near completion, I am delighted to inform you that, after a thorough review of your recent performance by the Hierarchy’s executive committee, you have been promoted to level one clearance, effective immediately.

  Cheers, mate, you’re a Wayfarer.

  Your pal, Dave

  P.S. As I may have mentioned, first perk of the job is you get to pick your vehicle. Choose carefully!

  Will tried on the glasses, and then picked up the key.

  The door flew open with a powerful gust of wind, blowing everything in the room around like in a storm. Will had to brace himself to keep from losing his balance—

  And the next thing he knew, Elise was in his arms, wearing her sly grin, looking and feeling and smelling better than anyone had a right to, and as the wind abated, she kissed him softly on the cheek.

  “Everybody’s waiting,” she said, and then kissed him for real. “What’s the holdup, West?”

  “Tell the gang we’ll be a little late for dinner.” He kissed her back. “We’ll meet ’em at the restaurant.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Her eyes narrowed playfully.

  Will held up the key and grinned.

  “We’re going for a ride.”

  WILL’S RULES FOR LIVING #20:

  (from Ajay) It is our rarest possession, more precious than any treasure from nature, God, or man. It cannot be bought, sold, traded, or stolen. You only have so much of it, and you never know when it will run out, so you mustn’t waste it or just let it pass or, heaven forbid, ever try to kill it.

  IT IS TIME. SPEND YOUR TIME WISELY. FOR IF YOU CAN MASTER THIS ONE SIMPLE AND ELUSIVE SKILL, MY FRIEND, YOU WILL FULLY AND TRULY BE ALIVE.

  DAD’S LIST OF RULES TO LIVE BY

  #1: THE IMPORTANCE OF AN ORDERLY MIND.

  #2: STAY FOCUSED ON THE TASK AT HAND.

  #3: DON’T DRAW ATTENTION TO YOURSELF.

  #4: IF YOU THINK YOU’RE DONE, YOU’VE JUST BEGUN.

  #5: TRUST NO ONE.

  #6: REMAIN ALERT AT ALL TIMES TO THE REALITY OF THE PRESENT. BECAUSE ALL WE HAVE IS RIGHT NOW.

  #7: DON’T CONFUSE GOOD LUCK WITH A GOOD PLAN.

  #8: ALWAYS BE PREPARED TO IMPROVISE.

  #9: WATCH, LOOK, AND LISTEN, OR YOU WON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE MISSING.

  #10: DON’T JUST REACT TO A SITUATION THAT TAKES YOU BY SURPRISE. RESPOND.

  #11: TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS.

  #12: LET THE OTHER GUY DO THE TALKING.

  #13: YOU ONLY GET ONE CHANCE TO MAKE A FIRST IMPRESSION.

  #14: ASK ALL QUESTIONS IN THE ORDER OF THEIR IMPORTANCE.

  #15: BE QUICK, BUT DON’T HURRY.

  #16: ALWAYS LOOK PEOPLE IN THE EYE. GIVE THEM A HANDSHAKE THEY’LL REMEMBER.

  #17: START EACH DAY BY SAYING IT’S GOOD TO BE ALIVE. EVEN IF YOU DON’T FEEL IT, SAYING IT—OUT LOUD—MAKES IT MORE LIKELY THAT YOU WILL.

  #18: IF #17 DOESN’T WORK, COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS.

  #19: WHEN EVERYTHING GOES WRONG, TREAT DISASTER AS A WAY TO WAKE UP.

  #20: THERE MUST ALWAYS BE A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN EVIDENCE AND CONCLUSION.

  #21: FORTUNE FAVORS THE BOLD.

  #22: WHENEVER YOUR HEAD IS TOO FULL OF NOISE, MAKE A LIST.

  #23: WHEN THERE’S TROU
BLE, THINK FAST AND ACT DECISIVELY.

  #24: YOU CAN’T CHANGE ANYTHING IF YOU CAN’T CHANGE YOUR MIND.

  #25: WHAT YOU’RE TOLD TO BELIEVE ISN’T IMPORTANT: IT’S WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO BELIEVE. IT’S NOT THE INK AND PAPER THAT MATTER, BUT THE HAND THAT HOLDS THE PEN.

  #26: ONCE IS AN ANOMALY. TWICE IS A COINCIDENCE. THREE TIMES IS A PATTERN. AND AS WE KNOW…

  #27: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A COINCIDENCE.

  #28: LET PEOPLE UNDERESTIMATE YOU. THAT WAY THEY’LL NEVER KNOW FOR SURE WHAT YOU’RE CAPABLE OF.

  #29: YOU COULD ALSO THINK OF COINCIDENCE AS SYNCHRONICITY.

  #30: SOMETIMES THE ONLY WAY TO DEAL WITH A BULLY IS TO HIT FIRST. HARD.

  #31: IT’S NOT A BAD THING, SOMETIMES, IF THEY THINK YOU’RE CRAZY.

  #32: EVEN THE SLIGHTEST ADVANTAGE CAN MEAN THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH. NEVER GIVE IT AWAY.

  #34: ACT AS IF YOU’RE IN CHARGE, AND PEOPLE WILL BELIEVE YOU.

  #35: TRYING TIMES ARE NOT THE TIMES TO STOP TRYING.

  #40: NEVER MAKE EXCUSES.

  #41: SLEEP WHEN YOU’RE SLEEPY. CATS TAKE NAPS SO THEY’RE ALWAYS READY FOR ANYTHING.

  #43: THE BRAVEST THING IS NOT ALWAYS THE SMARTEST THING.

  #45: COOPERATE WITH THE AUTHORITIES. BUT DON’T NAME FRIENDS.

  #46: IF STRANGERS KNOW WHAT YOU’RE FEELING, YOU GIVE THEM THE ADVANTAGE.

  #47: OUT-OF-CONTROL ANGER WILL GET YOU KILLED EVEN QUICKER THAN STUPIDITY.

  #48: NEVER START A FIGHT UNLESS YOU CAN FINISH IT. FAST.

  #49: WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS, JUST BREATHE.

  #50: IN TIMES OF CHAOS, STICK TO ROUTINE. BUILD ORDER ONE STEP AT A TIME.

  #51: THE ONLY THING YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO LOSE IS HOPE.

  #52: TO BREAK THE ICE, ALWAYS COMPLIMENT A MAN’S HOMETOWN.

  #53: AND ALWAYS SYMPATHIZE WITH HIS HOMETOWN’S FOOTBALL TEAM.

  #54: IF YOU CAN’T BE ON TIME, BE EARLY.

  #55: IF YOU FAIL TO PREPARE, YOU PREPARE TO FAIL.

  #56: GIVING UP IS EASY. FINISHING IS HARD.

  #57: IF YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT’S GOING ON IN A SMALL TOWN, HANG AROUND THE BARBERSHOP.

  #58: FACING THE TRUTH IS A LOT EASIER, IN THE LONG RUN, THAN LYING TO YOURSELF.