David stood on shaky legs between Evan and Joey. Across the dancing water, both cops aimed at Evan’s head.
The entire block was now locked down by backup officers and SWAT.
Evan gauged his next move. The young cop stood in front of his partner, taking lead. He seemed capable, more confident than nervous.
Evan could work with that, play to the cop’s ego. He let a worried breath rattle out of him. “Thank God. Is it clear, Officer? I was picking up my daughter, and … my son, he got knocked over. His arm’s cut open, and—”
“Calm down. Sir? Calm down.”
David cupped his hand over the wound, red showing in the seams between his fingers.
The officer’s elbows stayed locked, but he swung the gun down and to the side. “Does he require medical attention?”
“I can take him to urgent care,” Evan said. He put his arm around Joey’s shoulders, gathered her in. “I just want to get my kids out of here. I wasn’t sure it was safe to come out yet.”
The cop’s partner, a tough-looking woman, said, “Where’s your car?”
Evan pointed. “Minivan over there.”
“Come with us.”
The cops gave them an armed escort across the park, passing by dozens of officers, none of whom took notice.
They reached the curb, and the young cop gestured at the SWAT trucks to allow the minivan to pull out.
Evan rushed the kids into the van. “Thank you so much, Officer.”
The cop nodded, and he and his partner jogged off to resume the search.
Evan pulled out of the spot, driving past the rows of police cruisers with flashing lights. Two units at the intersection, parked nose to nose, reversed like a parting gate to let the minivan through.
At the next street, Evan signaled responsibly and then turned. The flashing blue and red lights slid out of his rearview mirror.
Joey tilted her head back and shot a breath at the roof.
* * *
Evan waited until they’d cleared city limits to pit-stop. He parked behind a liquor store and wrapped David’s forearm using gauze pads and an Ace bandage he’d pulled from the first-aid kit lodged beside the spare tire.
The alley behind them gave off the sickly-sweet odor of spilled beer. Flies swayed above an open Dumpster. Broken glass littered the asphalt around it; somebody had practiced empty-bottle free throws with a twelve-pack, showing all the accuracy one would expect from somebody who’d drunk a twelve-pack.
The hatch was raised, David sitting at the edge of the cargo space, his legs dangling past the rear bumper. Crouched before him, Evan smoothed down the bandage and snared the fabric with the metal clips to secure it.
Joey came around to check on their progress. “All good?”
David turned his arm this way and that. “Yeah. Can this be stitched once we get there?”
“Get where?” Evan asked.
“To the Program HQ or wherever.”
Past the boy, Evan sensed Joey pull her head back slightly.
“We’re not going to any HQ,” Evan said. “You’re not joining any Program.”
David’s tone hardened. “What are you talking about?”
“That’s no longer an option,” Evan said.
“No way. That big guy said I could be part of it.”
“That big guy will dispose of you if you don’t make the grade,” Joey said.
David spun to face her. “I’ll make the grade,” he said. “It’s all I ever wanted.” He glared up at them. “I want a way out. I finally got it. And you want to take it from me?”
“These guys killed Tim,” Evan said.
“Then Tim wasn’t good enough.”
“Watch your fucking mouth.” Joey stepped forward, shouldering Evan aside, her intensity catching him off guard. “He died for you.”
David’s mouth pulsed as he fought down a swallow. But his eyes stayed fierce.
Joey leaned over him. “You don’t even know what the Program is.”
“I don’t care what,” David said. “I don’t care. I want to go back with the guy who took me. I want something better than a shitty life in some shitty facility.”
“Did Jack teach you anything?” Joey said.
“Yeah. To be better. I deserve better than this.”
Joey said, “None of us deserves anything.”
“Maybe so,” David said, hopping to his feet and finger-stabbing at Joey. “But that’s my choice. I’m not going with you if you’re not part of the Program. You take me back to those guys, or the first chance I get, I’ll tell that you kidnapped me.”
His features were set with a bulldog stubbornness that seemed well beyond his thirteen years. Given the life he’d led up to now, that made sense. Hard years counted double.
Evan had been a year younger than David was now when he’d stepped off the truck-stop curb into Jack’s car and never looked back. He thought about who he was then and what he thought he knew.
Evan said, “Is there anything we can say to dissuade you?”
David’s face had turned ruddy. “No.”
“Can we give you more information to—”
“No.” The boy was on tilt, his nose angled up at Evan, shoulders forward, fists clenched by his hips.
Evan looked at the boy calmly until he settled onto his heels. David shook his head, eyes welling. “I don’t want to be a nobody.”
Evan said, “You go down this road, that’s all you’ll ever be.”
At that, Joey touched her hand to her mouth as if trying to stop something from escaping.
“Maybe so,” David said. “But it’s my road.”
Evan watched him for ten seconds and then ten seconds more. Not a thing changed in his expression.
Evan said, “Stay here.”
He walked over toward the Dumpster, Joey trailing him. They huddled up, facing the minivan to keep an eye on David.
Joey looked rattled. “We have to change his mind.”
“It’s not gonna happen,” Evan said.
“So we just what? Leave him for Van Sciver to pick up again?” She took a few agitated breaths. “He’ll kill him, you know. Sooner or later, directly or indirectly.”
Evan said, “Unless.”
“Unless what?”
Evan cleared his throat, an uncharacteristic show of emotion.
“Unless what?” Joey repeated.
“We take him public.”
She gawked at him.
“He doesn’t know anything yet,” Evan said. “Not one proper noun in his head.”
“He knew Tim Draker. And Jack.”
“Both of whom are dead. Anything he has to say about them will sound like a foster-kid fantasy.”
The words were so true that saying them out loud felt like a betrayal.
“There’s safety in exposure,” he said. “No one wants a spoiled asset.”
“Then why didn’t Jack just do it months ago?”
“Tim Draker was alive. I’m sure he wanted to get David back once it was safe.”
Joey flipped her hair over, revealing the shaved band. She lowered her head, crushed shards of glass with the toe of her sneaker. “I don’t know. It’s a risk.”
“Everything’s a risk. We’re juggling hand grenades.”
She didn’t respond.
Evan said, “With everything else going on, with us still out here, you really think Van Sciver’s gonna burn resources and risk visibility for a screwed-up thirteen-year-old kid?”
She fussed with her hair some more. Then she pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaled. “Okay,” she said. “Fuck. Okay.”
When she looked up, all emotion was gone, her features blank.
She walked back over to David, her hand digging in her pocket. She came out with the phone in the stupid Panda case, held it four feet from David’s face. The shutter-click sound effect was more pronounced than necessary.
She bent her head, a sweep of hair hiding her eyes, and clicked furiously with a thumb.
“What the hell?” David said. “What are you doing?”
She kept on with her thumb.
David grew more uncomfortable. “I said, what are you doing with my picture?”
“‘My cousin’s best friend was kidnapped by the U.S. government,’” Joey read slowly. “‘Jesse Watson. Please retweet. Exclamation point.’” Now her eyes rose, and Evan was startled by how little they seemed to hold. “Twitter. Facebook. Instagram.”
A few chirps came from the phone, notifications pinging in.
Joey frowned down at the screen. “Looks like BritneyCheer28’s a popular girl. Lotta ‘friends.’”
She held up the phone. David’s face duplicated with each new post, a Warholian effect on the endlessly refreshing screen. The chirps quickened, reaching video-game intensity.
“You bitch.” David’s voice was so raw it came out as little more than a rasp.
“I don’t expect you to understand,” Joey said. “Maybe you’ll get it when you’re older.”
“You just took away any shot of me being anything.”
“No, you stupid little shit,” Joey said. “We saved you. We just gave you a normal life. Where you don’t have to spend all your time running away from … running away from yourself.” Her voice cracked, and beneath the vehemence there was something wistful, something like longing. She swallowed hard and turned away to stare at the rear of the liquor store.
“Go back to the McClair Center,” Evan said to David. “There’s a charge nurse who’ll be happy to see you.”
“Fuck McClair.” Tears streaked David’s red cheeks. “Fuck the charge nurse.”
“I’m going to give you my phone number in case you ever need my help.”
“I’m never gonna call you. I’m never gonna ask for your help. I never want to see you again.”
Evan took the first-aid kit out of the trunk and dropped it at David’s feet. Then he walked to the driver’s seat and got in.
Joey stayed in the alley, gazing at the cracked stucco wall, her arms folded. It took her a moment to start moving, but she did.
She climbed in, slammed the door louder than she needed to.
Evan said, “Look up the number of the McClair Children’s Mental Health Center and tell them you spotted him here. I already called. It should be a different voice.”
Joey said, “Gimme a moment.”
David didn’t move as Evan backed out. The side mirror passed within a foot of his shoulder. Evan hit a three-point in the cramped space and spun the steering wheel toward the open road.
They left him in the alley, staring at nothing.