Silence

the road. I found the coincidences eerie, but wasn’t sure how to raise the issue with Scott. Telling him, I think I saw this place during one of my hallucinations wasn’t going to earn me a lot of credibility.

While I was still pondering the spooky connection, Scott leaped up on the cement ledge and tried the first bay door. “Locked.” He moved to the keypad. “What do you think the code is? Hank’s birthday?”

“Too obvious.”

“His daughter’s birthday?”

“Doubtful.” Hank didn’t strike me as stupid.

“Back to plan A, then.” Scott sighed.

He jumped, catching the bottom rung of the fire escape. A layer of rust sprinkled down and the metal gave a low groan of protest, but the pulley worked, the chain fed through it, and the ladder lowered.

“Catch me if I fall,” was all he said before going up. He tested the first couple of rungs, bouncing his weight against them. When they didn’t give, he continued up, one cautious step at a time to minimize the creaking metal. I watched him all the way to the first landing.

Figuring I should keep watch while Scott climbed, I poked my head around the side of the building. Ahead, at the adjacent corner, a long, knifelike shadow spread across the sidewalk, and a man stepped into view. I pulled back.

“Scott,” I whispered up, my voice the barest sound.

He was too high to hear.

I glanced around the edge of the building a second time. The man stood on the corner with his back to me. Between his fingers burned the orange glow of a cigarette. He leaned into the street, glancing both ways down it. I didn’t think he was waiting for a ride, and I didn’t think he’d stepped out of work for a smoke. Most of the warehouses in this district had been retired years ago, and it was past midnight. Nobody was working at this hour. If I had to bet, the man was guarding Hank’s building.

Further proof that whatever Hank was hiding had value.

The man ground his cigarette beneath his boot, glanced at his watch, and started a bored amble toward the alley.

“Scott!” I hissed, cupping my mouth. “We have a problem.”

Scott was well past the second level, only a few steps away from the third-story landing. The camera was in his hand, ready to take pictures the minute he had a clear shot.

Realizing he wasn’t going to hear me, I grabbed a piece of gravel and threw it at him. Instead of hitting him, however, the rock hit the fire escape, ringing out with a clang, clang, clang as it bounced back down.

I covered my mouth, paralyzed by fear.

Scott looked down and froze. I jabbed my finger urgently at the side of the building.

Then I ran to the Dumpster, crouching behind it. Through the crack between the Dumpster and the building, I watched Hank’s guard jog into view. He must have heard the pebble I’d thrown, because his eyes immediately traveled up, trying to pinpoint the sound.

“Hey!” he yelled at Scott, jumping onto the bottom rung of the fire escape and hauling himself up with a speed and agility that very few humans could match. He was tall, too, one of the easiest ways Scott had taught me I could spot a Nephil.

Scott clambered up the fire escape, taking the rungs two at a time. In his hurry, the camera slipped from his hand, sailing down to the alley, where it shattered. He gave it one brief glance of disbelief before resuming his rushed ascent. At the fourth-story landing, he hauled himself up the ladder that hooked onto the rooftop and disappeared above.

I ran down my options in a hurry. The Nephil guard was only a flight behind Scott, moments away from cornering him on the roof. Would he rough up Scott? Haul him back down for questioning? My stomach lurched. Would he call Hank here, to deal with Scott directly?

I hustled out to the front of the building and craned my neck, trying to locate Scott. As I did, a shadow streaked overhead. Not along the edge of the rooftop, but in the air between this building and the one across the street. I blinked, clearing my vision just in time to see a second comet race across the sky, arms and legs pinwheeling athletically.

My jaw dropped. Scott and the Nephil were jumping buildings. I didn’t know how they were doing it, and there wasn’t time to dwell on the impossibility of what I was seeing. I sprinted toward the Charger, trying to anticipate Scott’s mind. If we could both beat the Nephil to the car, we stood a chance of getting away. Pumping my arms harder, I followed the sound of their shoes ringing and scuffing far overhead.

Halfway to the car, Scott veered suddenly to the right, and the Nephil followed. I heard the last of their impossibly fast footsteps sprint into the darkness. As they did, a metallic chime rang out on the sidewalk just ahead. I scooped up the car key. I knew what Scott was doing: diverting the Nephil long enough to give me a chance to get to the car before they did. They were faster — much faster — and without an extra few minutes, I’d never make it. Still, Scott couldn’t take the Nephil on a wild-goose chase forever. I had to hurry.

At Front Street, I put on one final burst of speed and sprinted the last block to the Charger. I was light- headed, blackness crowding my vision. Clutching my side, I leaned against the car, catching my breath. I scanned the rooftops intently, hunting for any sign of Scott or the Nephil.

A figure streaked off the side of the building straight ahead, legs and arms revolving through air as he dead- dropped. At the bottom of four stories, Scott hit the ground, stumbled, and rolled. The Nephil was right on his tail, but nailed the landing. He yanked Scott off the ground and delivered a fierce blow to the side of his head. Scott staggered, but remained conscious. I wasn’t sure he’d be able to manage as much with a second well-aimed punch.

With no time to think, I threw myself into the Charger. I shoved Scott’s key into the ignition. Flipping on the headlights, I floored it straight for Scott and the Nephil. My hands gripped the steering wheel, bloodless. Please let this work.

Both Scott and the Nephil spun to face me, their complexions washed out in the headlights. Scott shouted at me, but I couldn’t make out the words. The Nephil shouted too. At the last moment, he released Scott and dodged away from the car’s bumper. Scott wasn’t as lucky; he flew up and over the hood. I didn’t have time to wonder if he’d been injured before he hurled himself into the seat beside me.

“Go!”

I stomped the gas. “What was that back there?” I shrieked. “You were jumping buildings like they were hurdles!”

“I told you I’m stronger than your average guy.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t mention flying! And you told me you didn’t like using those strengths!”

“Maybe you changed my outlook.” A cocky smile. “So you were impressed?”

“That Nephil back there nearly captured you and that’s all you care about?”

“Thought so.” He sounded self-satisfied, clenching and unclenching his hand, where the Black Hand’s ring fit snugly around his middle finger. I didn’t think now was the time to press for an explanation. Especially given the relief I felt over his decision to start wearing it again. With it, Scott stood a chance against Hank. And I did as well, by association.

“Thought what?” I said, frazzled.

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m sweating.” When I realized what he was getting at, I rushed on, “I am not impressed! What you did back there — What could have happened—” I shoved some stray hairs off my face and collected myself. “I think you’re reckless and careless, and you’ve got some nerve making this all sound like a big joke!”

His smile turned into a full-on grin. “No further questions. I have my answer.”

CHAPTER 17