Trembling (18 page)

"Yeah," he said. "You were crying. I held you."
I remembered. I remembered the feeling of Jude's arms around me and how similar
they'd felt to Jason's arms. How obvious it should have been to me then. They
were so similar. Why couldn't I have seen that they were brothers?
 
"I liked that," Jude said.
"You were very comforting," I said.
Jude's hand snaked across the van to snatch mine. "But I'm not him,"
he said.
"Jude?" I asked.
 
"I'm not as comforting as he is," he said. "I can't protect you
the way he does."
I squeezed Jude's hand. "I'm not sure if I particularly like the way Jason
is protecting me these days."
"Because he scares you?"
"Yeah."
"Do I scare you?"
I cocked my head, trying to look at him in the scant light, considering.
"No," I said finally. "You don't scare
me.
"
 
"Good," he said. "I don't want to scare you."
"Really?" I said. "Is that why you dragged me off at gunpoint
earlier?"
"I just wanted to get you away," Jude said. "I don't know. I
wanted to talk to you." He sighed. "It's weird. But I was upset, and
the only person I could think of that I wanted to be around was you."
He was still holding my hand. It was dark inside the van, and I could barely
make out his outline as he leaned closer to me, his face inching nearer and
nearer to mine.
Was he going to kiss me?
 
Jude kept leaning in towards me.
 
He couldn't be trying to kiss me, could he?
His nose brushed mine.
He
 
was
 
trying
to kiss me.
 
I hesitated for a second, and then I let him. I held my breath as his lips
touched mine. They were warm and soft. I slid my hands inside Jude's jacket,
tracing the outline of his ribcage.
And grasped his gun, drawing it out of his pocket.
 
Jude pulled back, surprised, but I already had the safety off and my finger on
the trigger. I whipped the gun up, resting the barrel under Jude's chin.
"That was very, very stupid, Jude," I said softly.
 
His eyes were wide. "Azazel?"
"You couldn't have really thought that I wanted to kiss you, could
you?" He'd bought it. He'd actually thought that I was feeling sorry for
him. He'd thought that I had romantic feelings for him. I didn't. Jude
disgusted me. I might sort of half-pity him, like a wounded dog or something.
But he wasn't my friend.
 
I smiled, feeling pretty damned proud of myself. "Here's what's going to
happen, Jude. Very slowly, you're going to give me the keys to the van. I'm
going to take them. Then you're going to open the door and get out of the van.
You're going to start walking away from the van. While you're walking, you're
going to count. You'll keep walking until you've counted to, I don't know, a
hundred. And you're going to keep walking and counting, even if you hear the
van start and you hear me drive away, because if you do turn around, I'm going
to shoot you. And you were with me when we went to the shooting range, Jude, so
you know that I could very probably hit you, even if I'd driven the van away.
You might think that maybe I'd be paying attention to driving and that I
wouldn't see you turn around, but you aren't going to want to take that chance,
so you're going to keep walking and keep counting. Do you understand?"
"Yeah," Jude said hoarsely, still looking astounded at this turn of
events.
"Good," I said. "Give me the keys."
Jude reached into his pocket and handed them to me.
 
"Now open the door and get out of the van," I said, moving the gun
away from his chin and aiming it at his forehead. "Slowly."
Jude tried to move slowly, but he lost his balance and tumbled out of the van.
As he got up and brushed himself off, I moved into the driver's seat. I rolled
down the window and pulled the door shut, aiming the gun at Jude through the
open window. "Now turn around," I said. "And walk."
Jude started walking, his back to me.
"Count to a hundred!" I yelled after him as I started the van.
 
And I peeled out of the dirt road as fast as I could, without one look back at
Jude. Back on the main road, I turned back towards
Shiloh
.
 
It was harder to drive the van than I'd imagined. I'd never driven a car that
was this high above the ground before. Also, it was disconcerting not to be
able to see the nose of the van. I didn't feel bad at all for leaving Jude out
in the middle of nowhere. It was only a few miles out of town, after all. Plus,
he'd taken me away at gun point.
 
Mostly, I guessed I was grateful. An emotional Jude had been much easier to get
away from than both of my brothers and Jude. I also now had wheels. Things were
definitely looking up for the first time since I'd been captured in
Bradenton
.
It was odd that Jude had bared his soul to me in so much detail, but I really
didn't care. There were much more important things to worry about, like where
Jason was. If I could get to him, then I could get him to stop hurting Michaela
Weem. The both of us could get out of here.
Would we go back to
Bradenton
?
Would we be safe there? What if Gordon and Noah tried again? Was I going to
spend the rest of my life on the run from my brothers?
 
It didn't matter right now. I needed to find Jason first. We'd figure out the
other details later. Right now, the only thing I should be focusing on was
where Jason might be. And that was the problem, because I had no idea. We
didn't have anywhere to stay in
Shiloh
. When
we'd been here before, we'd stayed in a hotel outside
Shiloh
.
I couldn't picture Jason checking into a hotel with a hostage. So, where was
he? Was he in another abandoned house like we were? Wherever it was, Jude was
right, it had to be relatively close. By the time Jude had returned, the blood
on the cloth binding her finger had still been wet.
I blanched inwardly at the thought of Jason cutting off someone's finger. How
could he have done that? What was happening to him? But I shook it off. I
didn't have the luxury of worrying about that either. I had to find Jason.
I just had no idea where to look. If only I had my cell phone. I could just
call him. But I didn't have a cell phone. Sutherland had taken it. And even if
he hadn't, I was sure my brothers would have taken it when they captured me.
I'd look for a payphone, but I still didn't know Jason's number. Was there any
real point in trying to find a payphone, then? And where did they even have
payphones these days? Convenience stores?
 
So what was I going to do? Drive up and down the streets looking for Jason? Go
looking for other abandoned houses? Go door to door asking, "Have you seen
a teenage boy and a fingerless woman?"
 
That was ridiculous.
I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel, willing myself to think.
Think. I didn't have anywhere to go, except back to
Florida
. Could I do that? Was Hallam there,
or had he gone out looking for us? If I could call Hallam, he would have
Jason's phone number. Of course, I didn't know Hallam's phone number either.
God. This was so stupid. When I'd been back in Bramford, I'd had everyone's
phone numbers memorized. Back before I'd had a cell phone. They were nice and
all, but there were definite drawbacks.
 
Suddenly, I was beginning to feel as if things were not exactly looking up now
that I was away from Jude. Sure, I wasn't being held captive anymore, but I
didn't know what I was going to do. And what about Lilith? Sure, I hated her,
but could I really leave her at the hands of my brothers?
 
As if to add insult to injury, a car abruptly pulled out in front of me, a few
hundred feet up the road. It halted in the middle of the road, blocking my lane
and just stayed there, like it was a police roadblock or something. I swore and
slammed on my brakes, screeching to a halt just a few feet shy of colliding
with the car. It was dark, but I could see that the car was a shiny, new
expensive one.
 
I leaned out my still open window, hurriedly stowing the gun inside the waist
to my jeans. "Everything okay?" I called.
The door to the car opened, and Noah stepped out. "Azazel?" he said.
"Where's Jude?"
Jesus! How had he gotten that car?
 
I threw the van into reverse and backed up at full speed, putting as much
distance as I could between their car and the van. When I saw that Noah was
getting back in the car and they were starting to pursue me, I immediately put
the car in drive and turned around in the middle of the road, my tires
squealing.
 
I took off at top speed, frantically checking my rear view mirror. They were in
hot pursuit. And their car could go much faster than the ratty old van.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
 
Where had that car come from? I'd thought they were stranded back at that
abandoned house. They'd gotten a really, really nice car lightning fast. How
had that happened? How?
I had to slow down for the turns in the road, because I wasn't used to driving
it. With every passing second, Noah was gaining on me. I tried to go faster,
but I was losing control of the van as I rounded the curves. I pushed myself to
take them faster and faster, not to worry about being able to navigate the
road.
 
But then it happened. I hit a turn way too fast and when I turned the steering
wheel and braked a bit, I skidded. Panicking, I pressed harder on the brake,
realizing belatedly that was exactly the wrong thing to do. The skid deepened
and the van wobbled. It tumbled off the road, falling on its side.
I wasn't wearing my seatbelt, so I was thrown to the other side of the van
—hard
. I thudded against the passenger
side door. The crank for the window jabbed my thigh. My head cracked against
the window. Pain shot through my body, bright like carnival lights. I bounced,
collided again, and was still.
I groaned.
I knew that I needed to get up and run, but everything hurt so, so bad.
 
"Azazel?" Noah's voice.
"Zaza, are you okay?" Gordon's voice, getting closer.
I felt in my pants for the gun. It was still there.
 
Oh God. That had really, really hurt. I'd never wrecked a car before. I knew it
was supposed to be a normal teenage experience. Trust me to make sure I had it
in the most abnormal way possible, running from my crazy Satanist brothers who
were trying to get me to murder my boyfriend. Could this possibly get any
worse?
Oh yeah. They'd found me. I'd escaped, and now I was getting recaptured.
 
The driver's side door to the van opened. It was funny, watching it open above
me like that. Open onto the night sky.
Noah and Gordon peered in at me.
"Are you hurt?" Gordon asked.
"I'm fine," I managed.
 
"We've got to get you out of there," said Noah.
"So you can tie me up again? No, thanks," I said. This really, really
sucked.
 
"Zaza, you must realize we're just trying to help you," said Gordon.
"You're not helping me," I said. "You're ruining my life."
"How can you say that?" asked Noah. "We're saving the
world."
"By sacrificing your baby sister?" I demanded. "You two stood by
while Toby almost raped me. Brothers who cared would have stopped that."
"Well, it wasn't exactly rape, now was it?" said Noah.
"Honestly, Azazel, you're overreacting."
"Really, Zaza," said Gordon. "Do you have any idea how much time
I've had to take off of work to be here?"
That was the last straw. His work?! Really?
I ripped the gun out of the waist of my pants. I didn't think. I didn't speak.
I didn't threaten. It was quick. It was easy. It was very, very simple. And it
felt natural too. Like the most obvious, most normal thing in the world to do.
 
I shot them both very neatly in the forehead. Their bodies toppled over into
the van. They hadn't even had time to cry out.
 
For a few very strange seconds, I felt calm and relieved. I felt proud of
myself. I'd just fixed everything.
Then I looked into their faces, dangling over mine, blood dripping over their
eyebrows and down their noses.
And I convulsed.
What had I just done?
 

Chapter Thirteen

To: Renegade Son
 
From: Edgar Weem
 
Subject: (none)
Fine, Hallam. We'll play it your way.
011-44-020-5555-7032

Lilith was in the back of the car, tied up and gagged.
I opened the door and looked at her. "You okay?" I asked.
She made a muffled noise. I reached in and pulled the gag out of her mouth.
 
"Fine," she gasped. "Are you?"
"I'm great," I said. "Come over here so that I can untie
you."
"Zaza, what
—
?"
"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand fucking times. Don't.
Call.
Me.
Zaza." I waved the gun in her face for emphasis.
She shrank from me. "Sorry," she mumbled.
 
"Now, come over here," I said, exasperated. She scooted over, and I
untied her hands and feet.
"Azazel, you're head is
—
"
"It's fine," I said. "You wanna sit up front?"
"Uh . . ."
"Stay in the back, then," I said. I closed the door, and got in the
driver's seat. I sat down. Buckled my seat belt. Felt the ignition.
And burst into laughter. I turned back to Lilith. "Keys!" I said to
her. "I forgot the keys."
Still laughing, I got out of the car and ambled over to the bodies of Noah and
Gordon. Noah had been driving, so he probably had them. I felt in his pockets.
Sure enough. Keys.
Before I could think much about the fact that I'd just shot and killed both of
my brothers, I went back to the car.
 
I jammed the keys in the ignition and started the car. I pulled the car back on
the road and headed towards
Shiloh
.
"Now," I said to Lilith, "before I was interrupted, I was
thinking about where the fuck I was going to go. Now that I've just committed
murder, I'm even more confused." I looked back at her. "Where do
people go after they kill people?"
"Watch the road," she said, her voice shaky.
I turned back to the road. "Sorry," I said breezily. "I think
sometimes people go hide out. They need . . ." I paused, feeling exactly
like a cartoon light bulb had lit up above my head. "Sanctuary," I
breathed.
 
I grinned at Lilith, but in the rearview mirror, not by turning around.
"We're going to see Father Gerald."
"Father who?" asked Lilith.
"Gerald," I said. "At Christ is King Catholic Church. Hallam
stayed with him for months before we found him in November. I know he'll know
how to contact Hallam. They're friends. And if I can get in touch with Hallam, I
can get in touch with Jason."
"Okay," said Lilith. "Great. I guess."
"Hey," I said. "How about a little gratitude? I just rescued
you."
"You shot them," she whispered.
Right. Well, there was that. But I wasn't thinking about that right now. I
couldn't think about that right now.