Ambush: 3 (Pillagy) Page 13

  “Prom?”

  “It might be kinda lame, but it’ll be a good memory,” I explained. “I just think that . . .”

  Kate interrupted me by throwing her arms around me and kissing me. I kissed her back, marveling at the fantastic direction our conversation was going. She pulled back and looked me in the eyes.

  “So is that a yes?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said with more joy than I had ever heard her express.

  “What is it with girls and prom?” I asked her.

  She was too excited to answer.

  My mind raced with images of myself wearing a tux and having to open car doors and making reservations and having Thomas drive us and the lie I was hiding from Kate.

  I should have felt happy. Instead I felt worried, and possessive of the secret I would never share with Kate.

  “I should go,” Kate said. “I need to tell my mom.”

  “Your mom hates me,” I reminded her.

  “She just doesn’t know you,” she said, standing up to leave.

  “Chances are if she knew me she’d hate me more.”

  “That’s a good point,” Kate agreed. “Still, she’ll be impressed you had the guts to ask me.”

  “What about your dad?”

  Kate picked up her own backpack and slung it over her shoulder.

  “I don’t think I’ll tell him just yet.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Wait until we’re married and have a couple of kids.”

  Kate smiled, kissed me once more, and then left.

  I felt awful. I knew the lie I was hiding was going to cause Kate big grief at some point. I sat there alone. My only hope was for the dragon to hatch, grow quickly, and devour me before it was ever discovered.

  Chapter 18

  Any Time at All

  Let me say that I truly wish I had learned my lesson while being suspended. It would have been nice if I had spent my days in misery and remorse wishing that I were back at school—but that wasn’t the case at all. My days away from Callowbrow were going great. I spent all my time traveling up and down to the glass cavern. I was getting a pretty good supply of water and food ready for the day when the dragon hatched. I was even stockpiling containers of gas for the generator near the elevator. And one day I brought a wooden post down and installed it in the middle of the cavern. The Grim Knot had taught me long ago that dragons need some sort of post or pin to feel emotionally tethered to.

  Kate still came over every afternoon. She still had some interest in the elevator, but her main concern was that I would be ready for prom. I guess she knew that sometimes I was a little loose with details and planning. I wanted to point out to her how well I was doing in my preparation for the dragon, but I knew that example would just complicate things.

  On the second Friday of my life in exile Kate didn’t come over because she had to complete some chores for her parents before the weekend. So I spent the evening assisting Millie in the kitchen and trying to be helpful around the manor. It felt good to be helpful, but it felt even better to go to sleep that night knowing that tomorrow was Saturday and the weather forecast was for warm and sunny. Nice days occurred so infrequently in the Hagen Valley that it was a big deal when they did. Millie had already promised me that I would be allowed to spend the day anywhere outside if it was sunny.

  “It’ll be good for you to spend some time outside of the manor” were her actual words.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I had been sneaking out to gather hay and food for two weeks now. So I went to bed thinking the next time I was awake it would be sunny and warm.

  At 2:15 in the morning, someone knocked on my bedroom door and it wasn’t sunny or warm. I woke up and tried to figure out what was happening.

  “Beck,” Wane said through the door. “Beck, it’s me.”

  “Come in,” I mumbled.

  Wane came in and flipped on the light. I blinked at the brightness and let my eyes adjust on Wane. She was wearing a sweatshirt and pants, and her hair looked like it could use a little care.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Your dad,” Wane said. “He wants to see you.”

  “But . . .”

  “We tried buts,” Wane said. “He won’t wait until tomorrow. He wants to see you now.”

  It wasn’t unusual for my dad to ask to see me at odd hours of the day and night, but unlike before when all I had to do was go up to the dome room, now I had to travel into Kingsplot, and someone had to take me.

  “Put something on,” Wane instructed. “I’ll be down in the car waiting.”

  I was relieved that it would be Wane taking me and not Thomas. I like Thomas, but there was only so much time the two of us could spend together.

  I put on a sweatshirt and jeans, used the bathroom, and then ran downstairs and got into the car.

  “Are you sure you won’t fall asleep while you’re driving?” I asked Wane.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Isn’t this nuts?” I asked as we drove down the driveway.

  “A little,” Wane replied. “But it’s the job.”

  Wane and Thomas and Millie seemed so much like family to me that sometimes I forgot they were actually employees of my father. They were paid to look after me and the manor.

  “Still,” I complained, “he could have waited until we were all awake. Is the hospital even open?”

  “Visiting hours are long over,” Wane said. “But your father still has some influence. The Pillage family has always been treated with exception.”

  “Do you know what my dad wants?” I asked.

  “No idea,” Wane said. “They just said he was frantic for you and needed you as soon as possible.”

  “Frantic?” I asked nervously. Most conversations with my dad were a bit awkward, but if he was frantic it would be much worse. “Last time I saw him it wasn’t great.”

  “Your father is having a difficult time,” Wane said. “The hospital is trying their best, but he’s a difficult patient.”

  “And father,” I said.

  “And employer,” Wane added.

  The lady with the big nose was waiting in the lobby and opened the front door the moment we pulled up.

  “She doesn’t look too happy,” I told Wane.

  “Good luck,” Wane said halfheartedly.

  I entered the hospital and thanked the woman for missing out on her beauty sleep.

  “It’s what we medical professionals have to do sometimes,” she replied.

  It actually looked like she must do it a lot. I was escorted down the hall to my father’s room. There was an orderly standing outside of his door. The orderly unlocked the door and motioned for me to go in.

  My father was standing near the one window, staring at the curtains with his hands clasped behind his back. As the door snapped shut behind me, he spun around.

  “Beck,” he said, shaking.

  “What’s the deal, Dad?” I asked sincerely. “It’s really late.”

  “That’s of no consequence,” he said, stepping up to me. He grabbed my shoulders. “Did you plant the stone?”

  I nodded.

  “Has it hatched?”

  “Not yet,” I reported.

  “Tell me everything,” he insisted, sitting down in the chair in the corner.

  I told my dad everything. I told him about the elevator and how the nest was growing and the preparation I had been making. I told him about keeping it a secret from the rest of the staff so they wouldn’t stop me.

  After I had filled him in, my dad just stood there and shook. He looked like an aspen tree under the influence of a zephyr.

  “Excellent,” my father whispered.

  “Thanks,” I replied, not knowing what the proper thing to say was when someone complimented you on your deceptive dragon-rearing.

  “Beck, you have to get me out of here,” my dad insisted.

  “What?” I asked. “I can’t do that.”

  “Nonsense,” he said. “I’m well.
There’s nothing wrong with me. You must get me to the manor.”

  My father’s speech was suddenly awkward and stilted.

  “I thought you said you weren’t better yet,” I reminded him.

  “I never said that,” my father snapped.

  “You did,” I argued. “You told me to plant the stone because you were sick and wouldn’t get better unless I did.”

  “Well,” my father said, looking confused, “you’ve planted it and all is well. Now get me out of here.”

  “Are you allowed to leave?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he lied. “They just won’t listen to reason. There’s a great need for me to return to the manor and they won’t listen to reason. You’ll tell them, right?”

  “I can try,” I said.

  “I knew you would come through for me,” my dad said, springing out of his chair and rushing around the room. “We’ll be back to the manor by sunrise. Who brought you?”

  “Wane,” I answered.

  “We’ll leave her here in town then.”

  “What?” I asked, confused. “Why can’t we bring her back to the manor with us?”

  “She’ll be in harm’s way,” my dad said. “We’ll have to release Thomas and Millie as well. Scott knows enough to stay. Besides, we might be able to use him.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, beginning to feel a bit frantic myself. “Release Wane and Thomas and Millie?”

  “Everything is about to change,” my dad said excitedly. “Don’t you see? I was a coward. For too long I have been fighting against what is rightfully mine—rightfully ours. I thought I was being valiant, but I was simply starving the real me.”

  I wanted to tell him that he was mad, but the words he was saying swirled around my brain and made me dozy. They felt warm and soothing.

  “I—”

  “Do you know what we have?” my dad asked. “Now with the soil under our control, when the dragon hatches, we will finally take what is rightfully ours.”

  “But . . .”

  My dad packed up a few things and then marched to the door. He knocked, and the orderly looked through the reverse peephole.

  “Step away from the door,” the orderly said through the intercom.

  “Nonsense,” my father said. “Let me out.”

  “We can’t do that, Aeron,” the orderly insisted. “Step back and we’ll let your son out.”

  My father laughed and then spun around and ran toward me. I couldn’t tell if I was in trouble or if my father was revving up to give me some sort of aggressive hug. He grabbed my right arm and twisted me around. He pulled my right arm back and put his left around my neck. He pulled me tightly against his chest as I faced away from him.

  “Dad!”

  My father shoved me forward to the door.

  “Let me out!”

  My dad had officially gone off his rocker. Memories of him disguised as Whitey and his willingness to let me die with Lizzy came washing over me like cold, dirty water.

  The door swung open, and two large orderlies burst in. They both had big gloves on and looked like dog trainers getting ready to tussle with a ferocious beast.

  “Let go of your son!” one of the orderlies commanded. “Release him!”

  “No!” my father insisted. “Let me out and you can have him.”

  I looked at the mirror and saw the image of my father holding me captive. The room seemed to swirl and rock. I could see the darkness in my father’s mind leaking from his eyes and nose. The Pillage scourge had completely taken him over. The madness that he had fought against was out in full force.

  I tried to wriggle out from under my dad’s arm. As I kicked and squirmed, one of the orderlies used the confusion to rush over and inject something into my father’s right shoulder.

  My father screamed, and the orderly wrapped his arms around my dad. I pulled free and fell to the floor.

  “Let me be!” my father yelled. “You will be devoured.”

  “Out!” the other orderly yelled at me. “Out!”

  I crawled frantically across the floor and out into the hallway. My father was screaming about dragons and tyranny and destruction.

  There were four more orderlies in the hallway. One of them pulled me up onto my feet, while the other three rushed into the room.

  “Are you okay, kid?” the orderly asked me.

  “Fine, I think,” I replied. “My dad’s not so good.”

  “We’ll take care of him,” he said kindly.

  “What’s going to happen?”

  “We’ll have to move him,” the orderly said. “We have some rooms that are a bit more secure.”

  My dad was still screaming, but now his words were slurred and incomprehensible. He made one last attempt to argue and then succumbed to the medication.

  “You need to leave,” an orderly said, taking me by the left elbow. “Come on.”

  When I got back to the car, it was beginning to turn light. Morning was starting to peek its head into the scenery.

  I guess I looked disheveled because the second I got in, Wane said, “What happened to you?”

  I filled Wane in on my father as we drove back home. I felt bad about my dad, but I was also surprised. There was something inside me that seemed pleased. With my father locked up, maybe I wouldn’t have to share the dragon with anyone.

  The thought made me feel powerful and momentarily happy.

  I was so tired by the time I got back home that I could barely walk. Millie met us at the door and handed me a glass of something liquid and white.

  “What is this?” I asked. “I’m not hungry. I’m going to bed.”

  “Drink it,” Millie insisted. “A tough night can make for a fitful sleep. It’ll help you rest.”

  I drank the warm frothy drink in four gulps. I thought it was milk, but it tasted like something completely different. It was so good that I actually wished there were more.

  “There isn’t,” Millie said. “Now go to sleep.”

  I walked slowly up the stairs and directly to my bedroom. I didn’t bother to take off my shoes or wash up. I just dropped down onto my bed and let sleep do the rest.

  Chapter 19

  Tell Me Why

  Even I was surprised by how long I slept. When I finally woke up, the sun was traveling back down and the clock said 3:17 p.m. The bright sunny day had almost completely passed me by.

  “Wow,” I said groggily. “What did Millie give me?”

  I lay on my bed for half an hour more, just staring at the ceiling and trying to shake the cobwebs from my head. I thought about my dad and how ill he was. I thought about what I had done at the base of the elevator. And I thought about Kate and how much she was going to be hurt when she found out that I was lying to her.

  “She has no right to be mad,” I heard myself say. The words sounded selfish and mean and unlike anything I had ever said about Kate before. I sat up in bed and shook my head. “What’s wrong with me?”

  Mr. Binkers was sitting on my dresser staring at me.

  “Don’t judge me,” I scolded him.

  I wanted to throw something at him so he’d look away, but there was nothing to throw. I could feel my mind changing, and I didn’t like it.

  I got out of bed, took a shower, and then put on a white T-shirt with a picture of a squirrel on it. Thomas had bought the shirt for me in Kingsplot. He was not only the manager of the manor; he was also my personal shopper. Unfortunately for me and good fashion, he had horrible style. I couldn’t tell if he thought I was really simple, or really dumb. I was the only kid at school who was happy we had a dress code. If I’d had to wear my casual clothes, I would have been beat up hundreds of times.

  I slipped on my jeans and shoes and then headed to the narrow staircase. When I got to the fifth floor, it was just after four o’clock. I grabbed a flashlight from the tub, opened the closet door, and started to step in.

  There was no elevator.

  The elevator was gone, and all there was were
long dark cables and an empty shaft. I had to grab onto the sides of the closet door to stop myself from falling in. I pushed back and stood there looking at where the elevator cart should be—someone had taken it down. I leaned over the edge of the floor and stared. There was no light, just the black cables stretching down into the darkness.