On the Edge of Humanity (9 page)

I knew Mr. Jackson was a nice man and as principal of our high school, he was usually fair in handing out punishment. But this wasn’t school and our problems were far worse than Blake and me getting into a fight. A cop was in a coma because a man was chasing us. What if the man found us here? What would he do to Mr. Jackson and Ben? Suddenly, I didn’t want to stay. I didn’t want to be responsible for someone else’s life.

“We’re sorry, Mr. Jackson,” I said in a soft voice.

He drank his orange juice, then placed the glass in the sink. “I don’t want you two leaving this house until school begins next Monday. It’s too dangerous,” Mr. Jackson said as a muscle in his jaw ticked.

Sam rose from the bar stool, walked around the counter and shook Mr. Jackson’s hand. “Thank you, sir. I know you don’t have to help us. My sister and I really appreciate it.”

“If anything happens to Ben, I’m holding both of you responsible.”

My heart sank. I would hold myself responsible if anything happened to Ben.

Chief Garrett knocked on the door at three in the afternoon. Mr. Jackson and Ben had left the house to run some errands while Chief Garrett spoke to Sam and me. The man was short and stocky with a bald head. Gold wire-rimmed glasses framed his dark brown eyes. Sam and I sat on the couch in the living room while Chief Garrett sat in the winged back chair adjacent to the fireplace.

“Well, which one of you wants to start?” he asked.

“I explained my side to Officer Bradley,” I blurted out.

“Young lady, do you think Officer Bradley can tell me what happened? You do know he’s in a coma,” Chief Garret snapped.

Heat rose high on my cheeks and I began tapping my foot against the couch.
Stupid me. I’m an idiot.

“Sir, we didn’t do anything wrong. I was trying to save my sister from Mr. Birch. When I got to the hospital, a man showed up and for some reason he was asking where my sister’s room was. A few hours later the man is outside the hospital room fighting with the cop. That’s all we know.” Sam grabbed my hand.

The chief stared at us, his glance shifting between Sam and me. “What did this man look like?”

“He’s a tall, big dude, wearing a blue bandana around his head,” Sam replied.

“And has pitch-black eyes,” I piped in. I debated whether to tell him about the man’s supposed fangs and how they were stained with blood, but I decided that the chief would only call the nearest mental institution.

“You haven’t found him?” Sam asked.

“No, son, we haven’t. I was hoping you could tell me more. Why is this guy chasing you or what does he want?”

Those were my questions too.

“We’ve never seen him before yesterday,” Sam said.

“Why did you run from the house?” Chief Garrett was looking at Sam.

“I wanted to be with my sister. I couldn’t leave her alone.” Sam squeezed my hand.

“Did you come here directly from the hospital?” Chief Garrett asked, staring at both of us.

His glare was terrifying. I gnawed on my bottom lip, tensing for Sam’s answer. I wasn’t going to answer the question. Was he going to tell him about Neil and the funeral home? I dropped my gaze, afraid to look at the chief.

“Sort of. When we left the hospital we ran. We ended up at the high school and hid in the dugout until yesterday morning,” Sam said.

What? My gaze was still peeled to the floor. I didn’t dare look at the chief. I slid a sideways glance at Sam who was still staring at the short, stocky man in the chair. Sam’s voice was confident and he didn’t waver when he spoke.

“Jo, can you look at me?” Chief Garrett asked. “Is that true?”

Sam nudged me.

Oh shit! I wasn’t a good liar. I imagined Sam had a reason to lie, but what was it? I thought I had better go along with it or things could get ugly.

Sam squeezed my hand harder. I slowly raised my head and looked at the Chief.

“Yes, sir,” I managed to squeak out, hoping I sounded confident.

Chief Garrett pierced his thin lips together and shook his head. Did he believe us? He studied us intently, trying to read Sam more than me. My heart pounded and I prayed he couldn’t hear it from across the room.

Chief Garrett rose from the chair. “I know where to find you if we have any more questions. Tell Mr. Jackson we’ll be in touch.” He turned on his heel and walked to the front door. He twisted the knob and paused. “You two be safe.”

The tone of his voice made me shiver. Then he walked out.

I let out a sigh, but my muscles were still tense.

“Why did you lie?” I punched Sam in the arm.

“He didn’t need to know anymore right now. If I told him about Neil and the funeral home, he would’ve hauled us down to the station and then… more questions. Besides, you need to get some rest and heal.”

“Do you think he bought our story?”

“I don’t know. But Mr. Jackson isn’t going to let us leave here so let’s be thankful we have a place to stay for now.”

I didn’t like lying to the cops, but Sam had a point. It would’ve opened a ton of questions and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it either. But, then again, I wasn’t sure we had much more information to tell. With the exception of Neil and the funeral home, Sam told the truth.

Sam left the room. The basement door opened then closed. I leaned back against the sofa picking through the events of the last few days. What was happening to me? How did things get so out of control? Life was falling down around me and I hoped I could make sense of what it all meant.

Chapter 7

T
he rest of the week
was quiet. I had a chance to sleep for more than four hours, which I hadn’t done in a long time. Mr. Jackson worked in his office in the garage, although he claimed he would hang out with us, but he never did. He visited the Birches and was able to get all our belongings including Sam’s baseball gear, which he was worried about.

While my wounds were healing, I was a little concerned about the cut on my cheek. A scar was inevitable, as was being ridiculed by Blake Turner. He was going to have a field day with me when we returned to school. I shuddered just thinking about what he would say when I ran into him at school next week. This time I was going to be ready.

Sam kept his anger in check, which meant that his eyes didn’t change colors. Fresh blood wasn’t on any of the menus, so I wasn’t tempted to test my resolve for the sticky red stuff. I was beginning to think it was just a weird one-time thing in our lives.

Since Sam and I weren’t allowed to leave the house, Mr. Jackson had given us homework in Math and English. He had crafted some exercises that he had said would help us when we returned to school. As Sam and I worked on the exercises in the mornings, Ben trotted off to baseball practice, which irritated Sam. But it was a price that he admitted was better than running or jail.

After Chief Garret had questioned us, he and Mr. Jackson had a long conversation and agreed that it would best for Sam to attend an anger management course at school. Sam was required to report to Mr. Bale during second period on Monday morning when school was back in session.

Officer Bradley came out of his coma, but was still in the intensive care unit. I made a mental note to ask Mr. Jackson if I could go see him.

Chief Garrett didn’t have any news on catching the fanged bandana dude. I prayed I never saw him again.

On Friday, Mr. Jackson had given a list of chores to Sam and me with detailed instructions to complete all the items on the list by the end of the weekend.

By Sunday, the April snow had melted and the weather had warmed. The smell of lilac trees permeated the air. Sam and I had cleaned out all the flowerbeds and trimmed the rose bushes in the yard. I had never worked in a yard before and within one hour of trimming roses, my hands had tiny punctures from where the thorns broke my skin, but thankfully, no blood surfaced. I thought staying with Mr. Jackson was going to be easy—not a chance.

We completed every task on the list by early afternoon. Afterwards, Mr. Jackson made us clean out the garage. I couldn’t believe all the sports crap Ben had accumulated over the years. Once we gathered everything into a pile, Mr. Jackson hauled it off to Goodwill.

I breathed a sigh of relief when the sun finally dipped behind the horizon. Around six in the evening, I climbed the stairs to my new temporary bedroom, which was just down the hall from Ben’s. A hot shower and a pillow sounded wonderful.

Unlike the sports dungeon down in the basement, my new room had windows with sheer curtains. While it didn’t have a view of the Bay like the one I witnessed from Ben’s window, it didn’t matter. What mattered most was that I didn’t have to share a room or a bunk bed with anyone.

I woke early on Monday morning, nerves propelling me awake. I rose from bed and sauntered into the bathroom, which connected to the bedroom by a sliding door. I slid it to my right and the door disappeared into the wall.
Cool.

Daylight filtered in through the frosted glass window located above the bathtub and a large walk-in shower stood next to it.

I pulled the glass door open and stepped in. A granite bench lined the glass wall to the left and double showerheads jutted out of the wall to the right. I turned on the water and stood beneath it, letting the hot water pummel down on my shoulders and neck. The crick I had in my neck a week ago was gone, but my nerves were active this morning. I wasn’t sure why.
I’m only going back to school.

I stepped out of the shower and steam swirled around me. I turbaned my hair and brushed a hand over the clouded mirror. My reflection wasn’t as gruesome as a week ago, although the stitches didn’t help to complement my appearance. My eyes were still silver and I said a silent prayer in the hope they would stay that way today.

I ran my fingers over the stitches. I couldn’t help but think of what stupid comments Blake would have if I bumped into him. He was the only one who picked on me for my eye color, which I never understood.

“Your black hair and silver eyes are a lethal combination,” Ben had said. “It’s like you’re looking into a mirror. People can see their own reflection, which can be creepy. Blake probably hates the way he looks and blames it on you.”

Ben might be right, but now I had a potential scar to add to my list. Whatever Blake’s motives, I wasn’t dealing with him anymore.

I traipsed into the bedroom with a towel knotted around me. The cool air caused me to shiver. I pulled open the top dresser drawer and surveyed my choices of what to wear. I didn’t have a lot of outfits like the other girls in school. I had two pairs of old jeans and one pair of new skinny jeans, which Mr. Jackson was kind enough to buy me when he saw how little I had. I decided to go with the layered look, a white tank top underneath a long sleeve pink Henley and my new jeans. I loved the boots I borrowed from the funeral home, which looked great with my outfit. I brushed my hair and grabbed my backpack. Then with a sigh I made my way toward the door to face what the day had in store for me.

Ben, Sam and Mr. Jackson were all in the kitchen. Mr. Jackson was reading the paper; Ben and Sam were eating cereal. When I walked in, all three of them turned their heads and stared.

Ben’s brows lifted at the same time he let out a low whistle.

Sam growled and punched Ben in the arm. “That’s my sister, dude.”

“Now, boys,” Mr. Jackson spoke up. “Jo, you look nice.”

I nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Jackson.”

I grabbed a bowl and spoon from the dish rack, ambled over to the empty bar stool and sat down. The boys were eating Raisin Nut Bran; not my favorite, but I wasn’t particular about what I ate. In foster care, I learned quickly to eat what was given to me whether I liked it or not. This morning I had a few choices and Raisin Nut Bran was not on my list. I picked up the box of Lucky Charms and poured a heaping mound into my bowl. My mouth watered in anticipation of that first bite with the sweet marshmallows soaked in milk.

As I savored every bite, Mr. Jackson cleared his throat.

“Jo, I had some time to think about your situation.” He rose from the table and washed his coffee cup.

Sam and Ben jerked their heads up at the same time.

What situation was he talking about? There were a lot of weird things happening to me. Did Sam tell him about our physical changes?

“Huh?” I said, scrunching my nose.

“You need to know what to do when someone tries to attack you. You need to learn how to protect yourself. Just like your brother needs to learn to control his anger.”

While I was relieved to hear it wasn’t about my eyes changing colors, I still had no idea where this conversation was going.

“Therefore, I want you to see Coach Welles after school. He has a program dedicated to helping young ladies learn the art of Aikido.”