The Con Code

by Shana Silver

  We beeline straight for the pirate ride for a stroll down recon lane so when 4 p.m. rolls around, we’ll be locked and loaded to pull off the switch in the dark without, well, a hitch.

  “Ahhhh! Hey, guys!” There’s a loud high-pitched voice oozing with excitement screaming behind me. “Fiona! Colton!”

  We both freeze in place. There’s a choice: run or hide. But I don’t get a chance to make either, because Lakshmi reaches us, huffing and puffing. She bends over and braces her hands on her knees. “Yay! I can’t believe I found you! And looks like I was just in time to join you on the pirate ride!”

  I glower at her. Fan-freaking-tastic. “What happened to Sydney and the other girls?”

  “They wanted to go on the free-fall-drop ride, and I’m such a wimp.” She lets out a shaky laugh. “Besides, I want to hang out with you more!”

  “The feeling’s not mutual,” I mutter before I can stop myself.

  Colin clears his throat. “Fiona…”

  When I catch Lakshmi’s bottom lip quivering, my stomach sinks. One thing criminals should not have is a conscience, but mine loves to show up in spades at the very worst times. What I really need is for Lakshmi to go away so we can perform illegal activities in peace (ignoring the other people on this ride, of course), but she’s like a punching bag: always coming back for more. Guilt seizes control of my mouth, and I try to save face. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t want to hang out with him, either.” I poke Colin hard in the chest in retaliation. He catches my finger and holds it for a moment before depositing my arm at my side.

  A smile bursts onto Lakshmi’s lips as if she just got an inside joke. She gives me a wink, and the joke’s on me. She thinks my attempt to shake her was actually a way to covertly flirt with the guy she thinks I have a crush on. Please, if my covert game was that bad, I’d have been caught ages ago.

  I can’t exactly kick her to the curb now. So Lakshmi flanks me on one side while Colin pushes in on the other, my very own ménage à blah. We migrate like cattle in a maze of metal gates that herd the crowd into single-file lines. My smartwatch counts off the minutes. Each step I take in the dank dungeon of a queue is like an ice pick in my chest. The tap tap of Lakshmi’s impatient foot echoes my thumping pulse. The blast of air-conditioning in the waiting area makes me shiver, and I long for the days when I pulled heists with people I trusted implicitly, whose flaws I knew how to use to our advantage.

  I’m not even sure I trust myself after the way I faltered in the rain with Colin.

  When we reach the front, plastic boat-shaped cars glide along the coaster track in the murky black water, rising up and down as the customers hop from the wooden plank into them. Drops of water streak the seats. Colin slides in first. My feet land with a hard thump, and I rest my butt on the plastic ledge. My skirt shifts, causing my bare thigh (thanks, Natalie) to press against the douchecanoe next to me. As the other douchecanoe slides in beside me, Colin nudges his thigh into mine for a brief second, a silent message I can’t interpret. No wonder I can’t decipher my mom’s clues; I can’t crack anything.

  With a lurch the boat jerks into motion, crawling along the rickety tracks. I remove my sunglasses once we enter the tunnel and get ready to study as much as possible so I have it all memorized by the time the heist rolls around. The atoms in my veins dance at the prospect of a heist. A manufactured blast of sea salt hits my nose. Screams and shouts of glee mix with the turn of the gears and the cheesy music of fiddles and guitars. Colin wraps his long fingers around the plastic hull while Lakshmi’s white knuckles shake. “I’m scared,” she whispers.

  The only reason I don’t kill her right here is because murder would not help me stay incognito.

  When Colin sits upright, I tilt his head to the side and cup my hand against his ear. “We need to ditch her. Immediately.”

  His cheek grazes against mine as he maneuvers to whisper in my ear. His warm breath sends goose bumps down my neck. “If we do it too early, it’ll just make her desperate to find us again. We’ve got to make sure leaving us is her idea, not ours.”

  Damn it, that actually makes sense. I cross my arms and sink into the hard back of the seat while Lakshmi strings her arm through my elbow and screeches. The boat brings us into a dark cavern filled with posed skeletons that light up when we pass. Mist floats upward to surround our boat in a ghostly ambience. The scent of barbecue seasons the air while dancing skeletons encircle an illuminated fabric flame. The song blasting recounts tales of debauchery, rape, and murder, and other things that might lead to thousands of skulls. A real cheery number. Gonna have to put this on my next workout playlist.

  “It’s coming up,” I tell Colin. Thanks to illicit YouTube videos and a variety of internet photos, I’ve done a lot of virtual recon over the last few months. But this is my first time seeing it in the flesh. Or, well, lack thereof.

  “Oh my God!” Lakshmi grabs my arm and lets out a bloodcurdling shriek. Wilhelm scream, I’ve found your replacement. “The skulls look so real!” She forcibly pushes my head in the opposite direction of the skull forgery to ensure I don’t miss seeing the scene of dueling skeletons fighting with bones on the other side of the river.

  The dreary pirate song recants how killing and stealing is an excellent form of currency. Kind of like my life now (minus the killing). I spin to see the forged skull whipping by as the boat glides past it. Two crossbones meet below it. And a few feet away, right where the schematic maps Johnny managed to track down show it, is a doorway hidden behind two skeletons having a feast.

  “Smile!”

  We turn just in time for Lakshmi to snap a photo of the two of us looking horrified.

  “Oooh!” she squeals. “It’s super Instagram worthy!”

  I widen my eyes at Colin. Posting on Instagram with a girl who will probably tag us with a million identifiers? #Coast2CoastConnectTeenTour #Fiona #Colton #PirateRide #NextStopGrandCanyon. She might as well send the image straight to the FBI.

  Colin must be on the same page, because he asks, “Can I see it?” When she hands it to him, his thumb subtly swipes across the device to delete. “Oh crap. I think I deleted it by accident.”

  My shoulders relax.

  “I’ll just take another!”

  I shake my head fast. “Not today. I’m, um, having a bad hair day.”

  Colin nods. “I can confirm she’s having a terrible hair day. Seriously, one of the worst.”

  I elbow him hard, and he lets out an oof. The ramp rises up up up and then plunges down into a small pool of murky black water. My stomach doesn’t even budge, but the drop forces a high-pitched scream from Lakshmi that makes my own blood curdle.

  When the ride stops, I tug Lakshmi’s arm and force her out of the seat. She wobbles on shaky legs like a newborn calf taking its first steps. “Ferris wheel next. I’ve planned it out, and if we hit that one in precisely ten minutes, there should be no line. From there we have to go to the racing cars and the jungle ride and—”

  I stifle a groan. Of course, the one variable in a heist you can never plan for: well-intentioned leeches thwarting you unknowingly.

  I lean close, whisper in her ear, and try not to cringe at what I have to say. “I really want some time alone with Colton.” I blast Lakshmi with a glare that sends two messages at once: Leave us alone and leave us alone, the last version followed by a couple of implied eyebrow raises.

  She lets out a sniffle and flicks her eyes between us as though she’s mentally imagining us making out. “On second thought, I’m going to see if I can find Natalie and T for the Ferris wheel.”

  My stupid chest cinches tight at the sound of her defeated whine. It takes extra internal coaxing to force myself into motion instead of folding her into a hug. “Great,” I say through clenched teeth. “See you later.” I grab Colin’s hand and tow him in the direction of the witch ride before I ruin everything by being nice. As soon as we round the corner, I relax. Alone, at last. I immediately curse myself; being alone with Coli
n should not be a relief.

  Bright sunlight forces me to squint at the large crowds in line for the witch ride. Off to the side of the line, concealed by a blue door that appears to be part of the painted scenery, is a corridor that leads into the underground tunnel system. Entry requires an employee badge/key card and a lot of stealth. We only have one of those. Well, I only have one of those. Colin has a lot of bravado instead.

  “Okay, there’s the entrance. Do you see any marks?”

  Colin struts toward one of the photographers. A pretty female photographer, of course, with great big blue eyes. Straight out of a cartoon. It’s a wonder she doesn’t have tiny birds perched on her arms, chirping. Her badge dangles from her belt.

  I inch closer to eavesdrop, pretending to study my phone like any good undercover FBI agent might.

  “Hey there.” Colin leans against the white railing beside Miss Beauty Queen. The railing surrounds an array of gorgeous pink and purple peonies, the perfect photo backdrop.

  She beams at him, pushing her dark hair out of her eyes as though to see him better. “Would you like a photo?”

  “I sure would.” He positions himself in front of the flowers, looking like a social media influencer modeling a product and living his best life. Hashtag YOLO. His grin is so infectious that several people pause to look at him. The photographer even pauses for a moment, clearly forgetting what she was supposed to do. I should remind her about that … and the fact that he’s underage.

  “Wait!” he gasps to himself. “Fiona! Get in!” He coaxes me over with a wave of his palm.

  I widen my eyes at him when the smile on the photographer’s face falters just a little at the sight of a girl joining him in the photo.

  “Smile wide, okay?” He nudges me with his elbow. I have to resist the urge not to stomp on his foot.

  I play along, though, smiling as best I can. Colin slides his arm around me, his warm palm skating down the bare skin. I shiver but remind myself it’s only because there’s a slight breeze … somewhere.

  The photographer snaps the photo and then glances at the camera to check it. She gives him a grin, but hers is no match for his. “Great, let me scan your wristband, and the photo will appear in your account by the end of the—”

  “Can I see it now?” He bites his lip and looks up at her beneath his lashes. “Please.”

  “I’m scheduled to upload these in—” She checks her watch. “Oh! Only ten minutes. It should be in your account in no time.”

  “Oh man. Ten minutes?” Colin’s whole face deflates as though he’s seriously dejected by this news. “Here’s the thing. My sister’s dying.” He nods toward me, and my mouth drops open. I quickly correct myself and give him the requisite glare that all sibling rivals (and scorned rivals) must portray. “And this might be the last photo of her ever.” He swallows hard, eyes welling up. “I need to make sure it’s perfect. So I can remember her by it.” His voice cracks on the last word.

  The photographer twists to me with a horrified expression. Thankfully my sputtering cough at Colin’s cover story sells the image of me dying. Probably of whooping cough. Disregard the fact that it’s basically extinct these days.

  “Please. This is her last trip. Tomorrow, she goes into hospice care.” He sniffles and sounds so goddamn devastated, I have to resist the urge to check my pulse and make sure it’s still ticking.

  The photographer’s hand flies to her mouth. “Of course. Of course. I’m so very sorry to hear this.” She avoids my eyes, too afraid to look at the girl who might only have a few days left.

  We crowd around her camera, the two of us leaning in to see the adorable photo. We honestly look so happy with the way his arm casually rests around me. Even my smile looks real, not something put on just for show. I definitely don’t look like I’m about to keel over.

  “Hmm, do you think the lighting is weird right here?” He points at the corner of the photo.

  While she leans in to scrutinize the sun glare, my hand snakes out and yanks her key card from her belt.

  As soon as we thank the photographer and walk away, I jab him in the ribs. “You just had to kill me, didn’t you?”

  He shrugs. “Girls love a sob story.”

  “But that one made us stand out. We need to blend in. Now she’s going to remember us.”

  “You’re paranoid. It’ll be fine. Send the image to Tig.”

  I sigh and take a snapshot of both sides of the ID to send to my favorite microserf.

  Tig texts back a thumbs-up emoji, and I kind of love that the girl stays silent even in the written word.

  Tig will now hack into the park’s system and update the records to replace Kate Sinclair’s ID photo with mine.

  And maybe this whole plan will succeed.

  CHAPTER 15

  After snagging another ID—without metaphorically murdering me this time—we sit on a hot bench a few feet away from the tunnel entrance door. The California sun reflects off the cobblestone walkway that’s embedded with tiny particles of glass, making the ground sparkle like diamonds. A slight breeze carries the scent of roasted nuts from a concession stand, and people crisscross in front of us, each heading to a different ride, a constant stream of strangers trying to get out of each other’s way. The sickly sweet music blasting from a nearby ride plays on a loop, and after only five minutes, I want to gouge my ears out. If the US Army ever runs out of torture devices to get enemies to blab, I’d recommend playing them a few bars of the magic-carpet ride theme song.

  I glance at my phone and then the tunnel entrance. As soon as Tig gives us the signal that she’s updated the IDs in the system to match our photos, we need to slip into the tunnels and grab two uniforms: a security guard uniform for Natalie and a maintenance worker uniform for me. From there, it’s a matter of Colin distracting Amy while Natalie and I slip into our disguises and wait for Tig to cut the lights. Then we barge in through the maintenance door, and Natalie will keep everyone calm and distracted while I pretend to fix the lights issue while really switching out the skull under the cover of darkness.

  The plan is all timed out, and we’re using up almost all our contingency time. If even one step goes a minute too long, the whole thing might fall apart, since Tig’s script to cut the lights is set to a timer that can’t be adjusted.

  I fiddle with my phone to distract myself. We have about forty-five minutes to get these uniforms and change into them. I bite my lip. “According to the schedule, Tig should have been done with the ID hacking fifteen minutes ago. Do you think she’s having trouble? Is that why she’s not responding?”

  He shrugs. “Does she ever respond?”

  “Good point.” I sigh. “We can wait five more minutes, but that’s it.”

  Rule #12: Heists involve spending a lot of awkward quality time with people you’d rather never see again.

  “Maybe we should use this time wisely instead of sitting here.” I turn to face him. “Here’s your crash course in all things stealth,” I say, and he rolls his eyes. “As soon as we go through those tunnel doors, act natural. No showing off. No making a scene. No smiling at cute girls.”

  He scoffs. “If I’m not smiling at a cute girl, then I’m not acting natural!”

  I ignore this and the way my stomach squeezes at his mention of smiling at cute girls. “Just don’t make eye contact with anyone except the clerk at the costume warehouse, okay?”

  “Okay, but I’m counting you in that no-eye-contact bullshit. And I definitely won’t smile at you, either.”

  My cheeks burst with redness, because did he just imply that I’m cute?

  My phone vibrates with a text, and I nearly leap off the bench. But my face deflates when I see who it’s from.

  Lakshmi: Where are you guys? I miss you! Let’s meet at tilt-o-whirl in 5?

  I groan, and Colin snickers over my shoulder. I shield my screen from him to type out a reply.

  Fiona: Can’t. Too busy making out with Colton.

  I squeeze my phon
e, a bitter flavor lingering in my mouth. The words look just as awful as they taste reading them back.

  Colin snatches the phone right out of my hands, and his eyes widen. “Whoa. Usually if I’m involved in making out, I like to, you know, be involved.”

  My cheeks get hot, but I’m sure it’s just from the temperature outside. “Calm down.” I hope he doesn’t notice how high-pitched my voice gets. “I had to tell her I liked you, because it was the only thing that would get her to back off for a while.”

  A wicked grin crosses his face. “Suuuuure.” He drags out the word in a singsong way. He looks as though he’s one step away from writing Fiona loves Colin all over his yearbook and then holding it up for the entire grade to see.

  I shift uncomfortably on the sticky bench. “It’s a ruse! I swear!” I hope I don’t seem too defensive, but when he keeps looking at me with that little smirk of his, I open my mouth again, my words coming out in a rush. “Just like when you pushed my hair aside in the rain and—”

  I clamp my mouth shut. Oh God, why did I say that? I bolt from the bench and start pacing in front of him. Anything to stop my heart from beating so fast.

  He stays on the bench, watching me. Studying me. After a moment, he grabs my wrist and pulls me to a halt. “Okay, I—I get it. I…” He lets out a sigh and rakes his free hand over his shaved scalp. “I approve of the ruse, okay?” He bites his lip. “Will you please sit back down? You’re making a scene.”

  I glance around and notice several people staring at us. I plop back down with a heaviness I hadn’t meant to carry. “Let’s take a cue from Tig and sit here in silence.” I cross my arms for emphasis.