Gone (16 page)

“I want to show you something.” He beamed excitedly. “Speaking of the future… come here.”

Gaia quickly relaxed her fist and her breathing, hoping he hadn't noticed. So, it wouldn't be hand-to-hand combat. Apparently he was not, in fact, that stupid. So
what,
then? When was it coming? Skyler
dragged her over to his desk and pulled an envelope out of a drawer, handing it to her.

“What's this?” she asked.

“Open it.” He smiled.

She let her eyes linger on his, and then she ripped open the envelope and pulled out a pamphlet-sized folder with the blue Continental Airlines logo on the front. She turned to him dubiously.

“Keep opening,” he encouraged her.

She opened the folder and pulled out a plane ticket in her name. Destination: Key West, Florida. Her spine stiffened with anger. Of course. Get her prints on the ticket. Leave a nice clear paper trail for her sudden disappearance. They really were covering all their bases. She plastered on a look of elated surprise.

“Oh my God!” she shouted. “You didn't.”

“I did.”

“
Skyler.
You are so…
sweet.
You didn't have to do this.” She forced herself to hug him gratefully. “But… how come there's only one?”
Answer that one, asshole.
She knew the real answer. He couldn't book a companion ticket in his name or the police would know exactly which door to knock on first. That would point a finger directly at the Rodkes.

“I didn't want to be presumptuous,” he said. “But if you'd like a companion… I can call the travel agency tomorrow. They've got my ticket on hold.” He grinned sheepishly.

“Cute,” she said. “Very cute.” In the ugliest possible way.

He ran his finger along the side of her face. “Stay here,” he said. “I'll be right back. Nature calls.” He left her standing by the desk and walked down the hall to the bathroom. Gaia didn't skip a beat. She slammed the ticket down on the desk and moved with silent feline quickness to the bathroom door. She had no intention of leaving him unattended for even a moment. She pressed her hands to the door frame and listened closely. And sure enough, she could hear him speaking. Most likely into his cell phone. But he was speaking in such a whisper that even her highly attuned ears couldn't pick up the words. She whipped around and slithered back to her position at the desk, waiting for his return.

“You know what?” he announced, prancing back into the room. “I just had myself a little brainstorm.”

“Oh,
do
tell.”

“Well…” He picked up the wine and tucked it under his arm, grabbing the two glasses between the fingers of one hand and picking up the plate of pâté in the other. “It has turned out to be such a beautiful night. I think we should take this party to the roof.” He turned to her. “What do you think?”

Gaia stared at him long and hard. “I think that's a great idea.” She smiled.

“Well, then, off we go.” He walked over and held out his elbow for her to take. She placed her arm
through his as if she couldn't be more delighted. As if they were off to see the Wizard.

But now she knew. The roof. Whatever it was, it was going to happen on the roof. And she was ready.

OLIVER'S FINGERS WERE SUFFOCATING the handle of his gun. He was digging a small crimson impression into Chris Rodke's forehead with the barrel. He knew that it was essential time to control one's temper while holding a gun, but the images in his head were telling a different story. He wanted to decimate this kid. He wanted to splatter his brains all over the car window. He wanted to see him bleed. But he had to maintain control. He had to keep his finger off the trigger. Because he needed the information.

His trap had worked to perfection. With that soldier's one overheard conversation, he'd been able to contrive a perfectly plausible fake e-mail from this General Colter to Chris. All he'd needed was a fake e-mail address and for Chris to take the bait, which he'd obviously been young and stupid enough to do.

Now he had Chris where he wanted him, and he had no intention of wasting any more time. The city was racing by them through the window, and Gaia was out there somewhere. He needed to know where they were going. He needed an address for his driver in the next sixty seconds.

“Tell us where Gaia is,” Oliver demanded.

Chris looked at Jake with deep confusion. “Jake, who is this guy? What happened to you? Did he do this to you?”

“Shut up!” Jake snapped. “Don't waste your time lying, Chris. I know you set me up. Just tell us where she is. We know she's with your brother.”

“Where's General Colter?” Chris asked.

“
I
wrote the e-mail, you idiot.” Oliver smacked the gun into Chris's head again, bumping him against the car window. “And you're going to tell me who this General Colter is and what the military has to do with your family's plans. You're going to tell me everything
after
you give me your brother's location. Now.”

“Who are you?” Chris squawked.

“I am Gaia Moore's uncle, and you have screwed with the wrong family. Now stop asking questions and start answering them or I will unload this entire cartridge into your face.”

“All right, all right!” Chris held out his hands. “I'll tell you where she is.”

“Good.”

“If you let me out of this car.”

Oliver's eyes widened. “What did you say?”

“I said, let me out of the car, and I'll tell you where she is.”

Oliver's hands began to tremble with frustration. He grabbed the lapels of Chris's jacket and tugged him closer. “This is not a negotiation. We are not
bargaining
here, you little—”

“Look, I'm sorry,” Chris interrupted, “but we
are
bargaining. You need to know where she is. I'm the only one who can tell you where she is. If you kill me, you have nothing, so
I
set the terms, right? If you stop the car and let me out,
then,
and only then, will I tell you where Gaia is. It's really that simple.”

Oliver stared into Chris's defiant little eyes and something inside him just snapped. He felt it happen. He felt the last vestiges of his patience implode in his head. He shook Chris's entire body like a scarecrow, rocking him back and forth again and again until even he was dizzy. Then he shoved his gun deep into Chris's mouth. His hand was shaking with rage, knocking the gun against Chris's teeth. “You cocky little bastard. You think I care whether you live or die? I don't care.” He pushed the gun to the back of his throat until Chris began to gag. “You really are an imbecile, aren't you? You just signed your own death certificate.” Oliver cocked the gun and brought his finger to the trigger.

“Oliver, don't!” Jake shouted. He reached for
Oliver's arm, but Oliver shoved him back in his seat. “Don't!” Jake pleaded. “Jesus, we need him to tell us where she is. We don't want to kill anyone, we just need to know where she is—”

“Shut up!” Oliver shouted. “Just shut up, Jake! I'll find her myself. This little bastard is dead.” Oliver shoved Chris up against the window and pulled the trigger halfway back.

Chris cried out helplessly, flailing his arms forward in surrender, coughing violently. Tears were suddenly dripping from the corners of his eyes. He was trying to form words.

“Wait!” Jake hollered. “Just wait, wait! He's trying to talk—”

“He had his chance.”

Chris's cries jumped an octave to a simpering whine. “I'll tell you,” he was trying to say with the gun stuck in his mouth. “I'll tell you where she is.”

“Oliver,
calm
down,” Jake begged. “
Please
. Please don't do this….”

Oliver froze in place. His heart was pounding like a hammer. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins like bolts of electric current. He had one desire and one desire only: to shoot this boy in the face. Shoot to kill.

But he stared long and hard into the boy's eyes. And he finally took a breath. He breathed in, and he breathed out. And then he pulled the gun slowly from Chris's mouth and placed it back in its holster.

“I'll tell you,” Chris cried, finally able to speak clearly. “I swear to God. I swear….” Chris pulled his knees up against his chest. He coughed painfully and shielded his face to hide his childlike tears. He tried in vain to catch his breath.

Oliver pushed himself back against the seat, trying to regain his sense of reason. It was like he had been in some kind of trance state. It was like trying to recover from a bout with demonic possession.

He had nearly done something completely irrational. He had come within centimeters of killing the one person who could get him to Gaia. He'd been ready to strike down yet another child young enough to be his son. Just as he had done to Sam Moon. Just as he had done to Mary Moss and to Josh. Just as he had nearly done to Jake the day before.

It was the first time he had really come to terms with the truth. Oliver Moore was entirely gone. And Loki was all that remained.

MEGAN FELT LIKE A STONE-COLD princess. She couldn't help it. She just knew her “look” was firing on all pistons tonight. She stepped slowly out of the limo,
making sure to show off her perfectly waxed legs and her four-hundred-dollar Prada shoes, and then she waited on the brightly lit sidewalk, smoothing out her black Hermes scarf and gazing through the glass doors of the Supper Club.

She checked behind her to make sure that her date looked as elegant as she did. Rob Preston was her prince for the evening. He looked damn fine in his tux, and thankfully, he'd gotten an excellent haircut. Not that his hair was his best quality. His best quality by far was his body, which was cut like a Greek god's—pretty much a requirement for the captain of the football team, which was the closest thing to a prince that high school had to offer. They were perfectly matched for this royal occasion.

Megan's heart raced with excitement as Melanie and the ladies gathered on either side of her and they began their supermodel strut down the small red carpet that led into the club. How perfectly appropriate that the carpet be red. She could just imagine a slew of paparazzi lining up on either side of them, blocked off by velvet ropes , flashing away and calling out their names, desperately trying to get their heads to turn for a good shot.
Megan, over here! Melanie, give us a smile…!
After all, how often was it that five stone-cold princesses could be captured in one shot? This would probably be the last time.

As they entered the lobby, Megan could already
hear the pounding bass drum and the din of the crowd through the doors of the club. Perfect. Their fashionable lateness couldn't have been better timed. The party was already in full effect—which was just what the girls had wanted. They had come here to turn some heads, and that required that everyone be there when they burst through the doors like superstars.

The girls all checked their coats, letting the boys handle the tickets while they gave each other one last once-over before their grand entrance.

Megan turned to Melanie first, as her opinion was the one that really counted. “Mel? Hair?”

“Perfecto,” Melanie replied, flashing the “okay” sign. “Lipstick?” She flashed her teeth to Megan for a smear check.

“Pearly,” she replied with a thumbs-up.

“Wrinkles?” Tammie asked, smoothing out her skintight Versace dress.

“Not a one,” Laurie said.

“Oh my God, you guys!” Trish shook her fists with excitement. “This is it. This is
our
prom!”

They all hooted in unison.

Megan gave them all one last looking over and then she was satisfied. “Ladies? I do believe we look hot. Are we ready to head in there and greet our royal subjects?”

“Ready,” they confirmed with a giggle.

“Then let's do this.” Megan tugged her prince by
her side, and they headed for the gold-trimmed royal blue doors. The ladies grabbed their dates and followed suit. They strutted to the two separate sets of double doors, gave each other one last nod, and then they swung open the doors to the sudden roar of the music.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Megan shouted. “We have arrived!” She threw her hand on her hip and flashed a massive grin, secretly waiting for the heads to turn en masse.

But no heads turned. In fact, most of the heads were turned in the other direction.

It seemed like half the senior class had all gathered around one table. They were practically lined up, as if someone was handing out free beers or something. Megan craned her head to try and see what was up at that table. Who could possibly be drawing that much attention?

“Who
is
that?” Melanie asked, sounding perturbed. She stepped next to Megan to try and get a better view.

“No way,” Rob said as a smile spread over his face. He let go of Megan's arm and stepped directly in front of her, as if she weren't even there. “Is that Heather?”

“It totally is” Brad agreed. “Heather freaking Gannis. Heather's back. We gotta say hello….”

Rob and the boys all trotted quickly down the steps, joining the crowd for Heather's one-woman
receiving line. Megan and the girls were left standing at the doorway alone.

The girls just stood there in awkward silence. Now Megan could see Heather, seated in her chair in a black strapless dress, giving out huge gracious smiles, handshakes, hugs, and kisses to each of her adoring fans one by one. She looked like…

She looked like a queen.

“Heather's back…,” Laurie uttered. “Wow”

“Yeah,” Tammie breathed. “That's… That's awesome.”

“Yeah,” Melanie agreed. “Definitely.”

They continued to stand there in silence.