Freaks of Greenfield High

Freaks of Greenfield High (Chapter 20)

When his mom drove off, Tyler didn't look back. If Jay got away, she'll find me. I know she will.

~*~

Tyler rolled on to his back and stared at the ceiling of their fancy hotel suite. "What do you mean you're sorry? What are you trying to say?"

His dad heaved a heavy sigh. "I was trying to pick the right time to tell you this, but I don't think there's ever going to be a right time.

"Tell me straight."

"I don't think she made it."

"Jay?"

"Yeah. All I found was this." He held out something wrapped in a towel. "I wasn't going to give it to you but your mom said I should."

Tyler sat up and took the offering, laying it in his lap. His dad sat next to him on the couch. Tyler slanted him a sideways glance. He looked tired, worn out. Dark rings beneath his eyes, deep lines bracketing his mouth. He'd ditched the moustache, thank God. Must have shaved it off last night before he hit the couch.

Tyler was sharing a room with Caro. Their mom had the other room to herself. Their dad was sleeping on the couch. It was an arrangement both seemed content with, and for that, Tyler was grateful. At least his mom hadn't slung her estranged husband out on his ass.

Tyler contemplated the lumpy whatever-it-was, cocooned in the grubby frayed towel. He had a bad feeling about what it could be. But he had to know.

He unwrapped it.

It was bad, all right. Real bad.

Waves of sickly heat washed over him. He drew in a breath and then another. And another. And still he couldn't get enough oxygen.

Enough. Suck it up, dude. Deal.

His internal pep-talk worked. He stared at the severed hand. At first glance it appeared to be human. He steeled himself to pick it up, take a closer look.

There was no blood. It'd been completely washed clean. And the closer he looked, the more fascinated he became. Its construction, the metallic-looking bones, the tendons—all encased in smooth, pale, humanlike skin.... It was miraculous. A work of art.

He rewrapped it carefully. It was a part of her, of Jay. The only part left. "Where did you find it?" he asked, proud of how steady his voice sounded.

"I tracked the extraction team to a house—vacant, thank God. The place was completely wrecked. There'd been an explosion. It was professionally done, set to cause maximum damage. I can only presume Jay was responsible."

"Or maybe it was the extraction team," Tyler said, thinking aloud. "If they couldn't capture her, they might have decided to eliminate her."

His father rubbed his chin. "A possibility," he finally conceded. "They'd cleaned up and gone by the time I arrived, but I think she got a few of them. I didn't find anything on site and I figured they'd taken her. And then I spotted something in the pool by the filter. It was the hand."

"Jay's hand."

"Tyler, I'm ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain Jay deliberately blew herself up in that explosion. And for some reason, her hand was the only part of her that wasn't obliterated. I'm sorry."

"I know." Tyler met his eyes. "What're you gonna do, Dad?"

"About the people I work for?"

Tyler nodded.