"Hey," said Mikey, jogging up to Pete when they all piled out of the buses at the rest stop. "I need to talk to you."
They found a picnic bench a reasonable distance away from everyone, and Mikey filled Pete in on what they'd found in Mark's bunk, leaving out the part about their dead parents. "So we really need you to put them back on our bus for the rest of the journey," he finished. "So we can find out what's going on."
Pete shook his head, bewilderment written all over his face. "They're just kids, Mikey. Danny isn't even twenty-one."
"I know." Mikey felt bad – it must be horrible to feel like someone who was supposed to be part of your own crew could do something like this, but even more than that he felt bad for the kids. "But that's why Gee wants to talk to them on the bus, you know, where they can't run away. I don't think Cortez and Charlie should be there to hear it, though."
"But what if they try to hurt you?" Pete said doubtfully. "Maybe Charlie should stay. He's a total hardass."
Mikey laughed. Pete looked offended, but it was just cute that he was worried about them when he was the one writhing in agony the night before. "I think Joe was right when he said we should try to keep this to the four of you. Besides, come on, dude, we can handle two kids."
"Pfft," Pete poked Mikey in the thigh. "Look at you, a stiff breeze would carry you away."
"Lucky for me most crazy evil masterminds don't rely on wind turbines."
Pete laughed, shaking his head. "Man, I can't believe this is even happening. Is it really happening? I mean, necromancy? It's like something out of a movie." Pete set his chin in his hand looked around at the other tables, people sitting, eating, smoking, talking on the phone. Then he looked up at Mikey suddenly, his eyes super-wide. "Wait a minute – does that mean it's all real? God, Jesus, the Devil, all that stuff?"
Mikey shrugged, and picked at a hole in the knee of his jeans. "We don't know for sure. Well, Gerard does. Thinks he does. I don't know." Mikey stopped talking, because it was all coming out wrong. He sorted through his thoughts before trying again. "There's definitely something, I guess, I mean...people keep being able to do this crazy shit. But I don't know about the rest of it."
"Wow," said Pete. He smiled suddenly. "Man, this is gonna piss Patrick off. He's an atheist."
"So's Frank," Mikey said, and then realized he didn't actually know if that was true anymore. "Do you? Believe in God, I mean?"
Pete nodded. "Yeah, totally. I just never thought that meant I ought to believe in the other side too, I guess." He was quiet for a while, picking at the cuffs of his hoodie where they were tugged right up to his fingertips. "Do you know why this is happening to me?"
"No," Mikey said honestly. "But if we can talk to the kids, then maybe we can find out."
Pete still didn't look convinced. "I don't know. Shouldn't we call the police?"
"And tell them what?" Mikey waited for Pete to do something other than look baffled, and when he didn't, added, "Yeah, that's where we always run out of ideas too. Look – the people that do this kind of thing? After we stop them, we have to hand them over to the Vatican."
"What do they do?"
"I don't know." Mikey pulled his knees up and rested his chin on one. "Gerard can't tell us. But I know that whatever it is, he doesn't want it to happen to Danny and Mark. We need to find out what's going on before it gets any worse."
Pete wanted to ask his boys before he'd agree to it, but when the buses started rolling again, Danny and Mark were herded unwillingly up the steps after Gerard.
"We should restrain them," Brian said quietly, putting a hand on Gerard's arm when he made a face. "I know, Father, but they could be dangerous."
"Fine," Gerard sighed. "But I don't know what we can use. I don't exactly carry handcuffs with me."
Frank held up a finger, then went to rummage in Cortez's empty bunk. He came back bearing two pairs of handcuffs. Both were padded. One was leopard print. Mikey liked those the best.
"Oh my God," said Ray, his eyes like saucers in his head. "There is no way you can possibly think this is appropriate."
"Ugh," Frank said disgustedly. "We didn't use them, you perverts, he just thinks they're funny. They're from the fans."
Bob took the non-leopard pair gingerly and turned them over in his hands. "They'll have to do, I guess."
Gerard was blushing so hard Mikey actually felt sorry for him. He cleared his throat like nine times and still sounded strangled when he said, "Just make sure they're comfortable."
Brian watched while Bob and Brian urged the kids to sit down and tried to find a way to restrain them that wouldn't hurt or be too much...well, too much like they were handcuffing kids. Mark had a face like thunder, but Danny just looked terrified.
"You know you could totally go to jail for this," Mark spat, making it as difficult as possible for Bob to close his cuffs. "You're like, holding us against our will or whatever. You can't do this. You're not cops."
"No," Brian agreed, snapping Danny's cuffs closed. "The cops have to read you your rights."
Gerard had disappeared into the back lounge; he came back carrying Danny's red backpack, which he placed on the table in front of him. "I believe this is yours?"
"Oh, shit," Mark said, comprehension dawning on his face. He whipped around to his brother. "What the fuck did you do? You idiot, what the hell were you thinking?"
Danny flinched away a little, hunching in on himself. He shook his head miserably, not meeting his brother's eyes.
Gerard sat down and reached into the bag, pulling out the ball. He set it on top of the empty backpack. "Do you guys know what this is?"
"No," Mark said immediately, lifting his chin. "I've never seen it before in my life."
"Really," said Gerard. "Okay. So can you tell me what it was doing in your brother's backpack?"
Mark threw Danny a murderous look. "I really can't."
Gerard looked at him thoughtfully for a minute, then leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. "Why don't you like priests, Mark?"
Mark snorted. "How long do you have?"
Gerard smirked. "As long as it takes, kid. We're in a big metal tube going seventy on the highway. Nobody's going anywhere."
Seeing them go back and forth over the table like this, Mikey felt like he was back home in Jersey, watching Gerard try to wrangle his youth ministry kids. When he first started they gave him so much shit; one of them even stole his car. Gerard was like a freaking bulldozer when he wanted to be, though, plus he pretty much wrote the book on being a moody adolescent.
"So you can talk to me, or you can talk to the cops," he was saying now. "Your choice."
"The cops can't do shit, man," Mark said in a bored voice. "Do you think I'm stupid or something? What, are they going to put me in jail because you say you found a ball in my brother's bag?"
Gerard folded his arms over his chest. "Jail?" he said. "No. Back in the care system I suspect you ran away from? Absolutely."
Mark gaped, but recovered fairly quickly and scowled, "I'm twenty-one."
"He's not, he's seventeen," Danny blurted out, wincing when Mark glared at him. "I'm sorry, Mark, but he obviously knows."
"What about you?" Mikey asked Danny.
Danny shot a nervous glance at Mark. "I'm fifteen."
"Jesus Christ," said Brian. "Father, they're just babies."
"Fuck you, man," snapped Mark. "I can take care of myself, and my brother."
"Is that what you're trying to do?" Gerard said gently. "Are you trying to bring back your parents?"
Mark stared at him, all the color draining quickly out of his face. "How could you – how do you know about our parents?"
"I told him," Danny confessed in a tiny voice.
Mark stared at him, a bunch of emotions battling each other across his face.
"Mark," Gerard went on in the same soothing voice. "I swear I'm not trying to play you. People's lives are at risk and I just need to know what's going on."
Danny turned his wide, rabbity eyes on Mark. "Lives? Mark, what is he talking about?"
"He's just trying to scare you," Mark insisted, but he didn't sound entirely sure. "He's full of crap just like the rest of them. You think your collar makes you hot shit, motherfucker?"
"Kid," said Mikey, because enough was enough. "Watch your mouth."
"Fuck you," Mark scowled.
"Hey!" Gerard said sharply. "You might not have any reason to trust me, Mark, but you don't have any reason not to either and right now, I'd say I'm your best bet of getting out of whatever mess you've gotten yourself into. I don't think you're a bad kid, and you obviously care about your brother, so unless you want me to call the police right now and report your ass, I suggest you drop the attitude and start answering some questions. Now for the last time," he said hotly, indicating the ball again. "Do you know what this is?"
Mark flushed but held Gerard's gaze for a few seconds, before glancing quickly at his brother and admitting, "No."
Gerard let out a huge, relieved breath and nodded. "Good. That's what I wanted to hear."