Joss the Seven Page 9

  I heard him gasp and run toward the desk. With hands that still shook, I stuffed the hard drive into the large, stretchy pocket just under my sternum. His feet came into view around the side of the desk, and I ghosted and rolled through the desk away from him.

  On the far side of the desk, I stood and ran. The CEO cursed and slammed the laptop onto the desk, but I never looked back. I ran through the glass walls out into the main office, and through the branching hallways until I found the main lobby.

  The security guard I’d seen downstairs stood just outside the glass walls by the elevators. He swept the beam from an enormous flashlight past me, and I instinctively recoiled, but the flashlight stayed in motion and didn’t come to rest on me. I decided subtlety wasn’t needed, and ran through the glass doors at the entrance. I almost ghosted through the guard, but something Mara had told me a few weeks ago came to mind. Something about ghosting through people being stupid because they could feel you, even gain a sense of who you were.

  I dodged around him instead, maintaining only my blend, and ran for the stairwell. He gasped and the flashlight beam spun around and shone through me as I cut past the elevators. So much for ninja-stepping silence. Speed was more important right now.

  I didn’t stop running until I was down the stairs, through the lobby, across the street, and ghosting into Jordan’s car. The moment I was in the backseat, I released the ghost and shouted, “Go! Go! Go!”

  To his credit, I don’t think Jordan even flinched. He calmly hit the start button, revved the engine, and smoothly pulled out onto the street. Mara, on the other hand, almost jumped out of the car. She was still shifted into the form of a man.

  “What the heck, Joss?” Mara turned around to glare at me, though she didn’t quite look in the right spot. I was still blending, but was panting with exertion and stress, so she had a pretty good clue as to where to look. It was just too weird being glared at by an attractive woman whose face looked like a middle-aged, less-than-handsome man.

  I released the blend, and slumped back in my seat. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath, and my head felt hot. The hooded mask came off a lot easier than it had gone on, and the cool air of the car felt great. Mara’s man-face softened a bit when she saw me.

  “You look terrible,” she said. “What happened?”

  Before I could answer, Jordan cut in. “Did you get the drive?”

  I nodded, not that Jordan could see me while looking forward and driving, and pulled the hard drive out of the pocket. My hand shook as I reached forward with it. Jordan glanced back, then turned and snatched it from my hand before returning his attention to the road.

  “Joss,” Mara said. “What happened?”

  I told them. Somehow, talking it through helped. They asked a few questions, but mainly let me do the speaking. When I was done, I no longer felt like I was going to throw up. The exhaustion, though, was intense. At that moment, I didn’t think I could have ghosted through a wall if my life had depended on it.

  Jordan flipped his mask off and grunted. We were back in the suburbs, driving through well-lit streets. “I tried to pick a simple grab-and-go for this first mission, but stuff happens. You improvised. You got what we came for. You did well.”

  I smiled. Jordan didn’t exactly heap the praise on us when training at Battlehoop. Unfortunately, he wasn’t done.

  “But next time, improvise in ways that won’t seem inexplicable to anyone who watches it on a security feed.”

  “Got it,” I said. “So that guy I saw…” I trailed off as Mara shifted back to herself. She was looking back at me, and cocked an eyebrow at me. She really looked better as a woman.

  I tried again. “Was he the Mocker we’re going after?”

  “Him? A Mocker?” Jordan made a short barking sound. It took me a moment to realize he’d laughed. “No. He was just a guy with a hard drive we needed. But it’s a step in the right direction.”

  “Oh,” I said. “I’d thought maybe…” Did I really want to admit what I’d thought? That I had saved the day? Gotten the evidence to bury a bad guy?

  Mara reached back and gave my hand a quick squeeze. “You did well. It’ll just take a lot more. Sorry.”

  I nodded and gave her a smile. “So have I earned some time off? I don’t think I could do that every night.”

  “Absolutely,” Jordan said. “Next mission won’t go down until this Saturday night.”

  Chapter 12

  GUARDIAN ANGEL

  “YOU JUST RAN?” Thomas asked.

  “Like a scared rabbit.” I put my foot back on the ground and nudged the merry-go-round into a slow orbit. “CEO dude was yelling and security was closing in.”

  Thomas sat on the opposite side of the merry-go-round facing me. It was Friday, a week and a half after my first mission. Early dusk lit the sky with pink, yellow, and red, and a cool breeze broke up the summer heat.

  “But you were invisible, right?”

  “Sure, but it’s not like that.” I frowned, struggling for the words. “Invisible isn’t part of real life, you know? If someone looks at you, they see you, right?”

  Thomas shrugged. “Okay. But not you. Not when you’re blending.”

  “Yeah, but it’s like my body, or my mind, or whatever, doesn’t feel that yet. So when the security guard shone his light on me, I felt like I was caught. I was terrified.”

  “Huh,” Thomas said. “I think I follow. So then what?”

  “Like I said, I ran. Didn’t stop running until I was back in Jordan’s car.”

  “That’s pretty intense,” Thomas said.

  “It was.” I stuck a leg out and gave the merry-go-round another push. “And I felt sort of dirty. I mean, sure, a couple of our pranks haven’t been totally in line with the rules, but none of it was go-to-jail illegal.”

  Thomas nodded slowly. It was like a tight cord around my chest loosened. It helped having a friend know what was going on. “But you’re working for the good guys, right?”

  “Sure, but…” I wasn’t sure what to say. “Should the good guys be using me to steal stuff?”

  “Good question.” He looked off toward the setting sun for a moment, and then turned back to me. “So your first mission was a couple weeks ago. And you’ve done two more since?”

  “Yeah. Last Saturday night, and then this past Tuesday night.”

  “How’d they go?” Thomas asked.

  “Piece of cake. Just walk in, take a hard drive, walk out. Nothing like that first one, except for the part about stealing stuff not feeling right.”

  Thomas glanced toward the sun again. “We should start walking. I told Mom we’d get home before dark.”

  We got up and headed toward his house. “Hey, you know that message you sent me a couple days ago?” Thomas asked as we passed the elementary school.

  “Yeah, the Mockers. The whole ‘guy looking for the butterfly birthmark’ thing. You get something on them?”

  “I dropped it in when talking to my mom like you asked. The Mockers are real. And real bad.”

  “So she’s heard of them?” I asked.

  Thomas nodded. “Mom says they’re some sort of major new force in organized crime. Pulling off stuff that shouldn’t be possible. Stealing corporate secrets, then making money on stock trades. That sort of thing. Like, a mix of old school mob violence and high-tech theft.”

  We passed Beedle Junior High and turned onto Thomas’ street. There were a few minutes of light left, so I slowed down. “Hey, wanted to ask you something else.”

  Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”

  I plunged ahead before I could chicken out. “Since I’m sleeping over again, it made me think about Bobby Ferris and…” Thomas stiffened. “Hold on, hear me out. I want to do something. I’ve got an idea.”

  “Dude,” Thomas said, “leave him alone.”

  My head jerked back in surprise. “Not something bad! Something to help him. What kind of person do you think I am?”

  Thomas frowned. “Is
that a trick question?”

  I punched him in the shoulder. At least, I tried to. He slipped my blow with an instinctive twisting motion. I laughed.

  “Battlehoop!” we yelled together, and banged forearms to make an X. It was something we’d started doing whenever one of us did something cool that we’d learned from Jordan or Mara.

  “Seriously, though,” I said as we started walking again. “I think I can help him. I’m still mad at what he did, but I’ve been trying to forgive him. I… I want to try to do the right thing.”

  I looked over at Thomas. He gave me a quick smile.

  “Good for you, Joss. What do you think you can do to help?”

  “I was thinking I might pour his dad’s liquor out. Make it all dramatic while blending, like some evil spirit was going to haunt him if he didn’t cut it out.”

  We turned up the walk to Thomas’ house. “Maybe you could put a more positive spin on it,” he said. “Play it like you’re Bobby’s guardian angel.”

  Thomas unlocked the front door to his house and stepped in ahead of me. “Mom! We’re home!” he yelled and headed up the stairs to the side of the entryway. I closed the door and flipped the deadbolt before following him.

  “I like that,” I said as we flopped down on the couch in the game room. “But isn’t it, I don’t know, sort of wrong to pretend to be an angel?”

  Thomas laughed. “So you’re stealing for the Guild, but worried about pretending to be an angel?”

  I smiled. “Good point. Listen, I’m going to head into the bathroom, so if your mom checks on us, that’s where I am as far as you know, okay?”

  “I get it. You sure you want to do this?”

  “They may not even be home, but, yeah, I’m going to try.”

  “Good luck, sir,” he said. “I guess a Seven’s safe wandering around alone at night, right?”

  “Pretty much.” I stood and headed to the bathroom. I’d gotten in the habit of wearing snug clothing, but I still checked out my shorts and shirt in the mirror on the back of the bathroom door. I tucked in the shirt, just to be sure, and stuck the loose ends of my shoelaces under the knots.

  That done, I blended, and ghosted through the locked bathroom door. I passed Thomas playing XBOX in the game room and headed downstairs and out the front door. It was dusk, a deep purple painting the western sky. I set out at a steady jog.

  It was full dark when I arrived at Bobby’s house. I took a moment to make sure my breathing was even, and ghosted through the front door. The entryway was dark, but flickering, colored lights painted the slice of family room I could see up ahead through the doorway, and the faint roar of a crowd roar swelled for a moment before subsiding. I stepped forward into the family room.

  Mr. Ferris sat on the couch across the room, facing me. A bottle and glass stood on the coffee table in front of him. The room was lit by the TV on the wall beside me. The crowd cheered again. I glanced over. Baseball. If Bobby was home, this was the perfect setup.

  I slowly stepped toward the hallway off to my left past the TV. Something Mara had told me leapt to mind as I started. Don’t blend between people and screens. They’ll see a distortion. I ducked low to get past the TV and continued down the hall.

  The last time I’d been here, I’d fled the house by cutting straight through from the hall to the front yard. I was pretty sure the room I’d gone through was Bobby’s. I remembered clothes on the floor, and junk covering a desk. Second door on the left. I ghosted into the room.

  Bobby sat on his bed cradling a phone, his fingers twitching as he played some game. The room was lit by a solitary lamp on the dresser by his bed. The place was as bad as I remembered. Clothes, papers, books, and other junk covered the floor and every other surface. The room had a faint, sour smell.

  I ghosted, and sank a couple inches into the floor. Even careful ninja-steps would probably disrupt the mess on the floor and catch Bobby’s attention. I drifted over to the side of the bed, came up out of the floor, and released the ghost.

  The next part of my plan put everything on the line. I pitched my voice high with my falsetto and spoke. “Bobby, do not be afraid.”

  Bobby didn’t take my advice. I twisted out of the way of his fist as he surged off the bed and lashed out. He stumbled backwards away from me and fell across his desk and to the floor.

  “I’m your, uh, guardian angel, Bobby. I’m here to help. I know you have trouble with your dad.”

  Bobby got his feet under him in a hurry and stood, his hands balled into fists. He looked terrified, but ready to put up a fight. For most of junior high I would have celebrated to have seen him scared, but now I was more proud of him for just standing there, fighting his fear.

  “Stay calm, Bobby. I’m your guardian angel. Let’s talk about helping your dad, okay?”

  Bobby’s eyes jerked around the room. “Where are you?” His voice had a wild edge to it.

  “I’m here with you, Bobby, but you can’t see me. Cause I’m an angel.”

  “I thought you could see angels.”

  “Only when we want to be seen, Bobby. We are normally invisible.”

  “Well, let me see you.”

  “I don’t want to be seen, Bobby. My, uh, aspect is too terrible to behold.”

  Bobby took a small step forward and held his arms out, reaching toward me. “Put your arms down, Bobby. We should talk, first, about something bad you did. Once we clear the air, we’ll help your dad.”

  He dropped his arms, and his shoulders sagged. “So you know about that?”

  “I do,” I said, still using my falsetto.

  “Well, I’m not sorry,” Bobby said, straightening back up. “I’ll pound anyone who calls my dad a worthless drunk. Robert had it coming.”

  What the heck? “I’m not talking about that, Bobby.”

  “Oh. Okay, I admit it. I stole that pizza. But I was really hungry. My dad doesn’t exactly look out for me.”

  “No, no, not that either. Eighth grade, Bobby, you pulled that seventh grader’s pants down in front of those girls.”

  Bobby cocked his head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

  “You pantsed Joss Morgan last year! You got his underwear!” My falsetto cracked when I yelled.

  “I did? I don’t remember doing that, but I remember him. He'd have had it coming. He was pulling pranks on other people all the time.”

  I took some deep, calming breaths. It wasn’t about me. I was here to help.

  “So angels keep track of that sort of thing?” Bobby asked, breaking up my thoughts. He was frowning. At least he no longer looked terrified.

  “Let’s just drop it and go help your dad. I want you to lead the way out to the family room and tell him an angel is here, and then point to where he keeps his liquor.”

  “Okay, I’ll just…” Bobby nodded toward the door, and started walking, glancing back over his shoulder with every step. I decided to be dramatic and kicked the clothes lying on the ground as I followed. His eyes widened and he rushed through the door and down the hall.

  “Dad! Listen, you’ve got to stop the drinking. There’s an angel here who says she’s going to make you stop.”

  I got to the family room as Mr. Ferris lifted bleary eyes to glare at his son. Bobby stood on the far side of the room toward the kitchen and pointed to a cabinet visible from where I stood.

  “What the… Shut up, Bobby!” Mr. Ferris said. He lifted the bottle to pour more into the glass.

  “Put the bottle down!” I yelled. Maybe it was a screech. After all, I was still trying to use my falsetto. I stepped toward Mr. Ferris and plucked the bottle out of his hand. I held it at the back, away from him, so that as little of the bottle as possible became invisible.

  Mr. Ferris’ eyes went huge, and he shook violently. I backed slowly toward the kitchen, his eyes riveted to the bottle, and upended it in the sink to drain. That done, I crossed the kitchen to open the cabinet Bobby had pointed out. There were at least two dozen bottles in there. I
t was going to take all night.

  “Bobby,” Mr. Ferris said, his voice trembling, “what’s going on? Are you seein’ this?”

  I started carrying bottles to the sink as Bobby went over and sat on the couch near his dad.

  “I really don’t know, Dad, but I’m seeing it, too,” Bobby said. “The angel just started talking to me in my bedroom. Said you needed to sober up.”

  Mr. Ferris hugged himself and sagged back into the couch, tears starting to well up in his eyes.

  “Yeah,” he said. “That’s the honest truth.” He looked Bobby in the eyes and nodded.

  “We’ll be okay, Dad,” Bobby said, putting his hand on his dad’s shoulder.

  I put the last of the bottles in the sink. A mixture of clear and golden liquids flowed down the drain. I glanced up and saw Mr. Ferris embrace Bobby. This was about to get way too awkward.

  “If you need help, Bobby, I’m going to tell you how to let me know.”

  Bobby pulled away from his dad and looked in my direction. “How?”

  “Go to Beckler Park. The giant tree on one side of the park has a small hollow in it, about six feet off the ground. Leave me a note there. Maybe put it in a ziplock bag.”

  Bobby repeated the words under his breath. “A note in a tree? Why can’t I just talk to you directly?”

  “Bobby, don’t question your guardian angel.”

  He nodded his head vigorously. “Okay. Got it.”

  I left him sitting by his dad. Mr. Ferris sat on the couch, his feet pulled up and his head hanging between his knees. The televised crowd roared.

  Chapter 13

  THE 'GUILD'

  SUNDAY AFTERNOON, THE doorbell rang. Dad jerked awake on his leather recliner and looked around, trying to figure out what had woken him. I tossed my comic book on the coffee table and sat up on the couch.