The Con Code

by Shana Silver

  Another tongue cluck.

  Natalie lets out an exasperated sigh. “The power gets cut in nine minutes.”

  Tig confirms that Natalie’s correct with silence rather than an emphatic yes.

  For every group text that Tig sends, I receive a private text from Natalie full of heart-eyes emojis. List of things that turn Natalie on: fedoras and ineffective communication.

  I pick up my pace. “Natalie, we’re roughly ten seconds away from—Oh, I see you.”

  Natalie sits on a bench across the way, a thick paperback book cracked in front of her face. I wouldn’t have recognized her if she hadn’t already texted a photo of her new-and-improved appearance. She’s already done half the battle of transforming herself into Amy Cleary: freckles dotting her nose, hemp-colored hair knotted into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, prosthetics giving her a dimple in her chin and hooded eyes. The only thing missing is the security guard uniform, which jostles in my bag. Sunglasses and a baseball cap conceal her from the real Amy Cleary, who stands a few feet away at a security kiosk, helping point a family of four in the right direction.

  “Okay, Colin.” I pat him on the shoulder. “It’s all you now. Talk Amy’s ear off and keep her distracted for the next fifteen minutes or so.”

  “Remember,” Natalie adds, “she likes tabby cats, all the shows on the CW network, and to rant about feminism all over social media.”

  His face goes pale. “Great, all things I know zero about.”

  Still, he looks casual as he approaches Amy, hands slung in his pockets, hips angled as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. My stupid heart does a flip-flop, which is weird, because I’ve never been nervous for a heist. Not once.

  I straighten my shoulders, feeling a little more confident after the uniform fiasco. The hard part is over. Colin can charm this girl in his sleep. I can slip in anywhere unnoticed. We’ve got the rest of this heist down pat.

  “Oh my God!” A girl runs toward me with the speed of a linebacker, tackle-hugging me like I’m the long-lost sister she hasn’t seen in ten years. Lakshmi’s intense embrace forces me to stumble backward and crash into Colin, who in turn crashes into Amy’s podium. “I totally didn’t think I’d see you again today! Yay!”

  She lets go of me and wraps Colin in a similar bear hug, tugging him away from Amy.

  “I missed you guys so much! I couldn’t find Natalie or T. Or Sydney and her friends. I’ve been wandering around all alone and now…!” Lakshmi wipes sweat from her brow to indicate the hardships she’s endured the last few hours, so empty and abandoned.

  Amy shuffles away from the podium, robbing us of the opportunity to distract her. No no no. We can’t let her out of our sight.

  “Guess what!” Lakshmi’s fingers fly fast on her phone. After a moment, she hops up and down, her braids flopping. “I just got us line skip passes for the pirate ride. I want to go on it again!”

  A text vibrates, and Colin and I glance down at our phones.

  Tig: 7 minutes

  Colin sets his greatest weapon on Lakshmi. “We’re in the middle of something here, though, so if you can just give us a few minutes, we’ll meet up with you on a different ride. Promise, okay?”

  Lakshmi dismissively waves her hand and laughs. “You guys have done enough sucking face for today. Take a five-minute break and ride with me.” She lowers her voice to sound authoritative. “I’m not taking no for an answer here.”

  “Six minutes thirty seconds, guys,” Natalie mumbles in my ear.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. Colin has to distract Amy before she walks too far way. Natalie and I have to change into uniforms. And we can’t do any of that with Lakshmi blabbering. What would my dad do? He’d find a way to ditch Lakshmi without giving her any reason to follow.

  I dredge up the memory of the guard shoving my dad into the back of a prison van and whisking him away from me. Hot rage boils through my body and makes me straighten like an arrow. Out of the blue, I slap Colin across the cheek with an open palm. “You cheating bastard!” I cry in my best impression of a shunned girlfriend, imagining how Jessica Sanchez feels now. “You kissed another girl!”

  Lakshmi gasps and backs away a step. Colin’s eyes widen, and he rubs his jaw. Natalie giggles in my ear.

  “Um, yeah.” Colin rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “When I said we were in the middle of something, I meant an argument. Not, you know, making out.”

  “Because he was making out with someone else! I just need to be alone!” I channel every teenage girl in every cliché movie and force my voice to hitch. Too bad I don’t have a bedroom door right now, because the moment definitely calls for a hard slam. Instead, I turn on my heels and run, my hands still curled into fists.

  “Excellent improvising and subterfuge. A little overdramatic on the acting, though.” Natalie shoots me a thumbs-up from her bench, and my stomach squeezes again. Because I’m not actually sure I was acting there.

  We run into the restroom to change.

  Thanks to Colin’s earbuds, I can hear Lakshmi launch into him. “Why would you kiss another girl after you just made out with her? That’s incredibly smarmy.”

  Colin’s answer comes a second later. “I’m a jerk, I guess.”

  “Ditch her,” I coax him via the earbud as Natalie and I squeeze ourselves into the handicapped stall. “You need to be distracting Amy right now.”

  “Trying,” he whispers back, then says louder to Lakshmi. “I need to find that other girl. We’ll do the ride later, though, okay?”

  Natalie and I scramble out of our clothing as my eyes adjust to the dim restroom lighting.

  “No way,” Lakshmi says. “I’m not letting you be a jerk again. Fiona likes you. A lot!”

  I freeze while zipping up the ugly tan maintenance worker jumpsuit. “I don’t. At all.”

  Natalie purses her lips and squints at me. Tig also sucks in a sharp breath, her version of a condescending laugh.

  Lakshmi continues to prattle on. “You need a grand gesture or something to win her back. Like in the movies!”

  “Not interested in getting her back. I just really, uh, want to find that other girl.” For a guy that normally waltzes through life dripping with confidence, Colin sure sounds flustered.

  “And I want to make friends, but somehow that seems impossible.” Lakshmi sounds so dejected, and I worry she’s on the verge of tears.

  “Oh no. Please don’t cry. Let’s just—”

  A wail rings out. “Is something wrong with me? Why doesn’t anyone want to hang out with me today?”

  I help Natalie button her security uniform and glance at my phone in the process. My pulse spikes. Four minutes.

  “Of course we want to hang out with you, it’s just that we all have our own things going on and—”

  “Then let me be part of it. Let me in. I could have comforted Fiona. I could help you. Please.”

  “I know, but—”

  Lakshmi’s sobs grow louder. Remind me to slip her some Midol later.

  “Calm down. We’ll hang out with you later. We’ll—oh shit. One second,” Colin says to Lakshmi. A moment later, a text pops up.

  Colin: Amy’s heading toward the pirate ride! I’m too far away to stop her.

  I let out a growl of frustration and type a response. Tig, any chance you can whip something up, another distraction this area?

  Three little typing bubbles appear, and I pray it’s Tig, but then I glance over and see Natalie fiercely typing on her phone. Explosion on another ride. Malfunction maybe. Anything but a blackout.

  Tig texts back a smiley-face-wearing-sunglasses emoji. I press my lips together.

  The lights in the bathroom flicker off, the whirr from the air-conditioning ceases, and a few people shriek.

  “Oh my God,” Lakshmi says through Colin’s earpiece. “Look! All those rides just stopped! I think the power went out.”

  I let out an aggregated scream that just mixes with the commotion in the now pitch-black bathroo
m. My phone provides a faint glow as I type. She said NO blackouts.

  Natalie shoves our old clothes into the bottom of the backpack. “She probably wasn’t equipped to do anything else on such short notice.”

  Colin sends a text. It worked. Amy ran in the other direction, but I lost her in the chaos.

  Natalie tugs on my arm. “Maybe this is even better. She’ll be totally distracted now. Let’s get out of here.”

  My chest trills, my muscles jittery. I run through the plan in my mind, but already I’m crossing out too much, skipping over steps, leaving huge gaps in the setup. We’re not ready. Not yet. We need to adjust the plan and—

  Natalie tugs me toward the tunnel entrance. My stomach swirls faster than the fastest roller coaster.

  “Look, Colton!” Lakshmi shouts. “The pirate ride looks like it’s still working. Let’s use the fast passes before it fills up.”

  “Ugh.” I groan. “You have to go with her. You have to make sure she doesn’t see what’s about to happen. Block her view.”

  This is bad. If Lakshmi sees anything at all, I have no doubt she’ll blabber about it to the entire camp. And all of Twitter.

  “Okay, fine. Let’s go,” he tells Lakshmi.

  I try not to focus on the way my stomach churns as Natalie and I barrel through the crowds and descend through the tunnel door beside the witch ride, using Colin’s stolen ID. Although Natalie looks like Amy, we didn’t have time to alter my face like we’d planned. Another mistake.

  Three minutes left.

  The usual adrenaline that rushes through my veins before a heist doesn’t appear, too weighed down by the bog of fear and uncertainty. It’s supposed to be thrilling to do something really wrong and get away with it. But I can’t shake all that’s riding on this. Not just finding my mother, but the desperate need to prove to myself I’m not a total screwup. I can still carry out a mission successfully even though my last attempt resulted in me getting stranded in the rain empty-handed and empty-hearted.

  I need to make sure I’m still worthy of making my parents proud.

  “Wow, those fast passes really work! Got on the ride in less than ten seconds,” Colin says, clearly for our benefit. The sea chantey plays faintly through my earpiece.

  Natalie and I head toward the hallway that leads to the emergency exit for the pirate ride. My timer ticks down, and my pulse ticks up.

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  Oh God. No turning back now.

  I brace myself for the quick snuff of the lights blinking out. The inevitable collective shriek from the crowd. The glide to a stop and confusion that will rise into panic.

  It all hits at once, sharp and loud.

  “… going on?”

  “Is this normal?”

  “… broken…”

  Then panic. Shrieks emanate from Colin’s headset, Lakshmi’s the loudest. “Oh my God! Oh my God! We’re going to die!”

  The panic’s like a disease: contagious. In seconds it seeps into my bloodstream, rings in my ears, makes my steady legs wobble like Jell-O. Natalie bursts through the doors, and I have to coax my feet into action. Our pupils widen to adjust to the stark blackness, a sharp contrast from the saturated hallway. Tiny glows of light dance in the distance like a rock concert where everyone’s holding up their flashlight app during a slow ballad. Although this time the music consists of a cappella screams and hushed panic. Without the A/C blasting, a rush of sweltering heat stifles us.

  “Everyone calm down!” Natalie moves into action and shines her flashlight toward the stopped guests. “We’re going to fix this and have you out of here in a jiffy.”

  “What’s going on?” someone yells.

  “Electronic malfunction. I’m going to evacuate you in an orderly fashion.”

  You can’t fail. I point my flashlight at my feet. You have to switch the skull prop. I place one foot in front of the other and traverse a rocky terrain of, well, rocks made out of wood and foam. You can’t get caught. A small hill causes the landscape to wobble under my feet, or maybe that’s just my vision going unsteady. To my right, skeletons encircle a table and pound glasses filled with shiny amber beer (lushes). And just beyond that, the skull in question hangs at the far end of the scene, above the display of a sleeping skeleton in a lavish bed, looking darker and drearier and decidedly deader than any of the other skeletons in here. It rests on a shield of crimson, as if it’s still bleeding its secrets after all these years. Two crisscrossed bones mark an X on the spot like buried treasure.

  Natalie marches toward the nearest boat. “All right, everyone! Please step carefully onto the side where I’m standing.” She starts with the only boat that’s connected to the land. All the other boats have a much wider berth of water on either side of them. She’ll march everyone through the maintenance door in groups. Once we’re done with the switcheroo, we’ll rip off our uniforms in the darkness and mingle with the evacuees as part of our exit strategy.

  “Guys…” Colin’s voice is a whisper, barely audible in my earpiece. “I’m right in front of the skull.”

  I freeze mid-step behind the bar. This is no bueno.

  “Who are you talking to?” Lakshmi asks Colin.

  “No one. Hey, stop, don’t touch my headphones.”

  “Keep her distracted,” I hiss. “Don’t let her see anything!”

  The crowd keeps causing a commotion, and Natalie continues guiding the first boat’s passengers to safety on dry land, the boat rocking as the stopped guests demand to be let out faster, some crying claustrophobia. But this is all good. It helps cover the metallic sound of the crowbar scraping against the back of the skull as I wedge it behind with sweaty fingers.

  Touching it sends a rush of nostalgia through me. Mom bracing her hands against mine, moving my thumbs to show me how to properly mold the clay. Helping me twist the clay in my palms until it warms and I can knead it like dough into any shape. Dipping my fingers into a cup of water to keep the clay moist until I’m ready for it to air harden into the consistency of bone. “The trick to getting the perfect shape is to pay attention to the details,” she said.

  The eye socket dips a millimeter on the left eye, probably from some dingbat poorly handling the skull while nailing it to the wall. My mom managed to re-create even the mistakes, not just the perfections.

  Determination floods my veins. Squaring my shoulders, I pull back on the crowbar with all my strength, grunting in response. The skull loosens, and one of the four nails goes flying.

  “All right, first boat group! Please head on through that doorway and turn left. Follow the stairs up to ground level.”

  I pop another nail loose. Two down, two to go.

  My elbows shake from exertion, but I keep going. Tig’s blackout won’t hold much longer. Another nail comes free.

  Before any of Natalie’s first group of evacuees can flee, the emergency door swings open again, and another flashlight beam joins the fray.

  “Everyone, please calm down. We’ve got the situation under control.” A woman’s voice. She shines the light toward her face, and I catch a brief glimpse of her features. Amy.

  The real Amy.

  My stomach clamps up.

  The real Amy’s flashlight sweeps across the scene and lands on Natalie.

  “Excuse me!” Amy marches toward her, and her hand goes to her waist. “Who are you? I need to see your security credentials!”

  “What do I do?” Natalie whispers.

  There’s only one thing she can do. “Run.”

  “No, wait! I have a better idea!” Colin’s voice is sharp and clear. And then a second later, I see a shadowy figure rise in the boat and leap into the murky water. The splash is so loud that everyone freezes for a second. Until Colin’s splashing starts.

  “Help!” He flails his arms frantically, slapping them against the water. “Help! I can’t swim!”

  Chaos ensues. Lakshmi’s piercing scream rips into the air. Someone else dives into th
e water to help Colin, but he’s flailing too much to be rescued easily.

  I war between sagging in relief at his clever distraction and groaning that he managed to be clever.

  Amy has a choice. Continue toward Natalie to catch her or help the direr situation of a potential drowning. With a sigh, she shouts, “I’ll get a life ring!” She runs back toward the emergency exit, cutting off the fleeing group again. Slim chance that when she returns, she returns alone.

  Natalie rushes toward me, and together we pry the last nail off the wall while Colin covers our sound with his frantic splashing. His distraction won’t last long.

  “Nat, start stripping back into your regular clothes.”

  “But—”

  “Our exit strategy is compromised. Amy saw you. We need a different way out.”

  “And that way is?”

  I bite my lip. “No idea. I just know we can’t look like this.”

  As I affix the replica skull I made onto the wall using just one nail instead of the four I’d planned, Natalie shrugs out of the uniform and rips the prosthetics off her face. She shimmies into her new clothes and then takes the skull from me to place everything into the backpack, uniforms and all, while I change out of the maintenance jumpsuit. Natalie settles her giant wig of massive hair back on her head.

  She blinks at me. “Now what?”

  What, indeed. My shoulders tense, worry seeping into every crevice in my body. We can’t go out through the maintenance door. And we can’t stay here. The only way out is … on the ride itself.

  My fingers settle into the scratchy fabric of the backpack, and I lock my elbows as I hoist it. “Follow my lead.”

  She switches on her flashlight, but I yank it out of her hands and shove it down on the floor. Darkness leaches my vision like inkblots.

  I trace my hands on the dusty bones of the skeletons to help guide me toward the far edge of the island. Most of the boats are kept a good six feet away from the scenery, but the boat closest to the land is now free of people thanks to Nat’s evacuations. We climb into it, boat wobbling, my knees scraping over cold plastic that resembles wood.