The Lost Saint (17 page)

Only Principal Conway informed us that we would be meeting the Good Samaritan group at the rec center in Apple Valley. Just a few of us would even be going into the city at all—depending on our driver’s agenda.

I passed out the stack of papers Gabriel had handed to me just before I got on the bus. He’d already paired everyone up, with Chris and me working together, just as I’d feared. When the bus pulled up to the rec center, we all filed out into the parking lot and were met by a line of vans marked with the Rock Canyon logo—two hands clasped.

“Your driver will have you back here in two hours, then we’ll all take the bus back to the school,” I instructed. Then the group broke up, and I hung back with Principal Conway to make sure everyone got into the correct vans and made it off all right.

I felt a pang of jealousy as I waved to April and Claire
as they pulled out of the parking lot with a middle-aged female driver in the last of the vans. My slip of paper said I was supposed to be on van number 8, but there had been only seven vans to begin with, and now everyone but the principal, Chris, and me was gone.

“That’s strange,” Principal Conway said. “I’ll go talk to the director and see what the holdup is with the last van.” He pulled out his cell phone and walked inside the rec center.

Chris and I stood alone in the parking lot for a moment. The wind tossed my hair. I rubbed my arms. It had been an exceptionally warm autumn this year, but now I found myself wishing I’d brought a light jacket. Hopefully, the last van wouldn’t take too long to get here.

“This is lame,” Chris said. “I’m out.”

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and started to walk away.

“Um, where do you think you’re going?” I called after him.

“I saw an arcade down the street. I’ll be back in a couple of hours before the bus leaves.”

“But the van is here.” I pointed at the white van with dark tinted windows and the clasped-hands logo that was just now pulling into the parking lot.

“Whatever,” Chris said, and kept walking.

The white van pulled up just ahead of me. I didn’t like the way I couldn’t see into the windows. It was one
thing to get into a van with a total stranger when at least one other person from school was supposed to be with me, but now that I was alone, I didn’t like the idea at all. Goose bumps prickled up my arms, and I hesitated on the curb.

The passenger’s-side window of the van rolled down a couple of inches. “You coming?” a deep voice called from inside. I still couldn’t see the driver.

I glanced back at the rec center entrance, to see if Principal Conway was coming back anytime soon.

“We gotta get on the road if we want to be back in time for your bus.”

I picked up my backpack and walked to the van. I pulled the door open and was about to tell the driver to go on without me.

“Grace Divine?” asked the driver. He smiled at me from under his baseball cap. The sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled up to his elbows. “I told you I’d be seeing you around.”

I almost fell over backward. I grabbed the handle of the door to steady myself. “Nathan Talbot? What on earth are you doing here?”

HALF A SECOND LATER

“Call me Talbot, please. Nobody but my mom ever called me Nathan.”

“Okay,
Talbot
, then … seriously, what are you doing here?” I was stalled halfway through the van door.

“Um, my job?” Talbot tipped his baseball cap toward me. It had the clasped-hands logo embroidered on the front. His unbuttoned flannel shirt revealed a T-shirt under it with the words
ROCK CANYON FOUNDATION: THE GOOD SAMARITAN PROJECT
written on the front. I guessed that was why that guy in the club had called him the Good Samaritan.

Talbot patted the passenger seat. “So you getting in, or what?”

I hesitated again and looked back at the rec center. No sign of Principal Conway or Chris anywhere nearby.

“I don’t bite, I swear.” Talbot grinned, and his dimples
appeared in his tan cheeks. “Like I said, we gotta hit the road now if we want to make it back in time for the bus.”

I couldn’t help but stare at Talbot’s friendly smile as he spoke. That wave of warm familiarity rolled through me. What was it with him? I mean, he was barely a step up from a stranger, yet
something
about him made me feel like we were old friends.
You can trust him
, a quiet voice whispered inside my head.

“Yeah. Okay.” I climbed into the van and sat in the passenger seat. I glanced back at the rec center entrance one last time and figured Principal Conway would know that I’d left with the last van when he came back and I was gone.

“Where’s your partner?” Talbot asked.

“He took off. Went to an arcade down the street.”

“Good,” Talbot said. He gripped the steering wheel with his large, tanned hands and drove the van away from the curb and through the parking lot. “I hate it when I get assigned kids who don’t want to do the work.” His green-eyed gaze flicked in my direction. “You’re up for this, right?”

“Of course.” I fastened my seat belt as we pulled from the parking lot onto the street. “Um … you’re not following me around, right?”

“Self-absorbed much?” Talbot chuckled.

The sound of his laugh again triggered those warm waves through my body. It made me shiver.

“I’m the one who should be asking you that, don’t
you think?” Talbot asked. “You going to show up at my dorm room next?”

I blushed. “No, um, it’s just weird to see you again.”

Talbot stopped at a red light. “Weird creepy, or weird pleasant?”

He smiled at me again, making his dimples super-pronounced. Why did he make me feel like I was curled up in a warm blanket on a cold winter afternoon? And how could the feeling be comforting, yet disturbing at the same time? I looked away so he wouldn’t notice the flush of heat in my face.

“Weird pleasant, I guess.”

Talbot flipped the blinker on and pulled the van onto the highway. We headed in the direction of the city. I felt a little thrill of anticipation that I might get another chance to look for Jude.

“You saved me some trouble anyway,” Talbot said.

“How’s that?”

“Now I don’t have to try to track down your number. Although I doubt there are many Divines out there.”

Crap, I blushed even more now. What was wrong with me? “You were going to look up my number?”

“Your friend dropped her bracelet at the club. I figured she’d want it back, but she didn’t tell me her last name. But yours was hard to forget. I’ve got the bracelet in my bag in the back. Remind me to give it to you before you leave.”

“Oh, okay.” A little rush of relief calmed the burning
in my cheeks. Of course he hadn’t wanted to call me just for the sake of calling me. “So where are we headed anyway?”

“I’ve got about twenty boxes of donated books in the back of the van. We’re taking them to the library on Tidwell Street. Most of their books started falling apart about a decade ago.”

“That’s it?”

“What, not exciting enough for you?”

“I don’t know, I guess I expected something a little more hands-on. I don’t really get the point of me being here just to help deliver some books.”

“You’re here because I’m supposed to teach you the finer points of helping your fellow man. Charity work isn’t always glamorous. Yeah, some weeks we get assigned to feed the needy or help build a house in a weekend, but half of what I do is just deliveries.” He adjusted his hat. “But don’t worry, we’ll get pretty hands-on eventually.”

I shot a surprised look at him even though my face blazed more than before.

“What?” He smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to get your hands dirty? Because if you’re one of those kids who gets freaked out by homeless people or is too worried about breaking a nail to swing a hammer, I should just turn this van around right now and ask for a new partner.…”

“What? No. First of all, I’m not a kid. I’ll be eighteen
in three months. And I am most definitely not afraid to get my hands dirty.” I didn’t know why, but I felt the urge to justify myself to Talbot—prove myself or something. Maybe it was because Gabriel had made so many assumptions about me after our first meeting, and I didn’t want Talbot to do the same. “Charity work isn’t exactly new to me. My dad’s a pastor. We used to do stuff like this all the time. You know how many hours I used to spend helping out with food drives and volunteering at the shelter?”

“
Used to?
Why do you say
used to?
”

I stared out the window, watching the pedestrians on the street. We were in the city now, so I wanted to keep my eye out for anyone who might look like Jude. “Things have been complicated lately. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to make a difference to anybody.”

“Well, now’s your chance.” Talbot pulled into a deliveries-only parking place outside the library. We each got out, and I met him at the back of the van.

Tidwell Library sat only a few blocks from Markham Street and The Depot. I checked out the faces of every person on the street. I knew Jude could be somewhere nearby, but if this place was anything like Markham, the neighborhood would be deserted by the time the sun went down.

Talbot opened the van’s back doors. “Come on, let’s get started.”

I pulled out a box and almost fell over because of the
weight of the thing. I finally steadied myself and looked over at Talbot. He had three boxes of the same size stacked in his arms.

“You can do better than that,
kid,
” he said, with a little goading jab in his voice on that last word.

“Yeah, right.”

I thought it would take a million years to unload all those boxes into the library, but Talbot carried in six boxes for every one that I managed to haul in. I hated looking weak in front of him, and I finally got annoyed enough with myself that I managed to muster up a burst of strength that helped me carry in two boxes on my last trip. Considering how much easier it was, I wished I had been able to do that in the first place. But I guess I didn’t really want Talbot to notice my disproportionate girl-to-upper-body-strength ratio.

“That’s more like it,” Talbot said as he held the door open for me on his way out. I carried the last two boxes to the information desk and left them with the librarian.

“So where to now?” I asked when I got back to the van, feeling like I’d gotten a second wind. “Can we go paint over some graffiti or something?”

“Not sure what we have time for, kid.” Talbot pulled off his hat. His wavy brown hair all squashed against his head made
him
look like the kid. He reached up to sweep his hand through his hair. But then he dropped his hat and whirled around. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

I concentrated hard, holding my breath until I felt that stinging irritation in my ears. Then I heard it, too: a woman’s scream. It sounded so close in my ears that I thought she must be only a few yards away, but the street was dusky and deserted except for Talbot and me. It could have come from a couple blocks away for all I knew.

“Come on!” Talbot said. “We’ve got to help.”

“What? No. We should call the police!” I reached for my phone in my pocket.

The scream sounded again but suddenly cut off, like someone had covered the woman’s mouth. My muscles flared.

“There’s no time.” Talbot grabbed my wrist. “The police can’t help her, but
you
can.”

“Me?”

Talbot let go of my arm. “I’m going.” He tossed the van keys at me. “Lock yourself in the van if you’re too afraid.” He took off jogging in the direction of the scream.

“Stop!” I shouted after him. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Not if you’ve got my back,” he yelled.

What the hell did he mean by that? I glanced down at the keys in my hand. I’d caught them midair without even realizing it. When I looked up again, Talbot had already disappeared around the corner.

“Crap, he
is
going to get killed,” I said to myself. The
tension in my muscles coursed like fire. My body wanted to do
something
, even if my better judgment screamed at me to stay put. Then an explosive bang rattled the sky.
A gunshot!

Go!
a foreign voice shouted in my head. I took off running before I could even stop myself. In a matter of seconds, I rounded the corner where Talbot had turned, and ran smack into a woman who was running the opposite way. Tears streamed down her face, and she held her torn shirt closed in front of her chest.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” I tried to grab her arm, but she pulled away from my touch.

“Get away,” she cried, and kept running.

But I couldn’t leave without Talbot. I took a few more steps and stopped dead at the scene in front of me. Three guys. Two dressed in black with bright red ski masks. I could tell by their slight build that they were probably teenagers. The third person was Talbot. One of the ski-masked guys had him pushed up against a cement wall, a gun pressed to his head—the muzzle lost in the mop of Talbot’s hat-head hair.