The whole cafeteria rumbled with shouts, but I couldn"t make out what people said. All of Dan"s senses were fixed on Finn.
Finn broke out of Dan"s grasp and fell back, slipping on a tray. Dan jumped on him, lashing out with his fists. Pain erupted from his hand. I stayed close, trying to regain control before it was too late.
Dan kept punching Finn"s head and face and chest. Finn did his best to block the blows, but several connected. The gathering crowd grew silent, stunned by Dan"s violence. Finally, a security guard barged in and grabbed his arm. Then Mr. Huber helped pry Dan off of Finn. Still, the zombie struggled, spitting and twitching.
No one grabbed Finn. He got to his feet, brushed the food from his clothes, and touched his bleeding lip. He stared at the blood on his fingertips in stunned disbelief.
On the way to the princ.i.p.al"s office, I did everything I could to take back control. Dan seemed exhausted after his outburst. He retreated some, enabling me to find a small gap. I didn"t challenge him for control right away since I knew he"d overpower me. Instead, I fed his doubts, hoping to convince him to give up.
What"s wrong with you? I whispered. You"re not who you think you are.
The security guard sat Dan down in the outer office. Mr. Huber had taken Finn to a different room. Dan"s breathing gradually slowed. His pulse still raced and his skin tingled, but at least he wasn"t panting and twitching anymore.
Everything you do makes things worse, I whispered to Dan. Things would be better if you weren"t around.
I think Dan knew he"d done something bad. His thoughts curled inward, and bit by bit he gave in, surrendering his body to me.
By the time Mr. Huber stepped out of Princ.i.p.al Murphy"s office, Dan had withdrawn so much I could barely sense him.
"Princ.i.p.al Murphy will see you now," said the school secretary.
I nodded and stood. I would have liked more time to solidify my control, but Dan didn"t put up any resistance.
Finn was already seated in the princ.i.p.al"s office. He held an ice pack, dotted with blood, in his lap. His top lip looked swollen, and a few flecks of blood rimmed his nostrils. Other than that, he seemed okay. In fact, both he and Princ.i.p.al Murphy appeared unexpectedly jovial, as if they"d been swapping football stories. Finn even turned in his seat and winked at me when I entered.
"Take off your cap, Mr. Franklin," said Princ.i.p.al Murphy.
I removed the cap with one hand while brushing down my hair with the other.
Princ.i.p.al Murphy frowned. My clumsy attempt to hide the scab had only drawn more attention to it. "What happened to your head?" he asked.
"That was from before," said Finn.
"I"m asking Mr. Franklin," said Princ.i.p.al Murphy.
"I ran into a wall," I answered.
Princ.i.p.al Murphy looked unconvinced.
"I tripped," I added, although how a person might trip into a wall was beyond me.
The princ.i.p.al sighed and gazed at the files in front of him. "You two have been going to school together for, what, twelve years?" he asked. "And now you"re both starting varsity?"
"Yes, sir," said Finn.
"This should be the time of your lives," he continued. "Your best years." He folded his hands on his desk and eyed both of us. "Now, I know you"re friends, but you need to understand something very important. This school has a zero-tolerance policy for violence. Any incident results in automatic suspension as well as expulsion from all athletic teams. And Coach said we have a shot at districts this year. Maybe sectionals. So it would be a shame to lose two cla.s.s leaders to a silly misunderstanding. . . ."
I realized he was giving us a way out. He wanted to let it go - brush the whole thing under the rug.
"We weren"t fighting," said Finn, glancing at me. "Dan was just joking around. Right, Dan? He was showing me a wrestling move and I slipped. We"re friends. We"ve been friends since kindergarten."
"Mr. Franklin?" said Princ.i.p.al Murphy, peering over the edge of his gla.s.ses at me. "Do you have anything to add?"
Dan stirred again. I couldn"t tell what he thought, but one thing felt certain - if I screwed up, he would take control. And this time I might not be able to get it back.
I swallowed and tightened my grip.
"I"m not his friend," I answered, stating each word clearly.
Because I"d started the fight, I was given a suspension. Two days. I almost mouthed the verdict before Princ.i.p.al Murphy said it. Part of me had hoped something worse might happen - that I would get expelled or sent to juvie, and then things would really change. But no such luck. The future unfolded, relentless as fate.
Finn got off with detention because he"d only been defending himself. Princ.i.p.al Murphy even commended him for doing the n.o.ble thing and not tattling on me. Then Finn asked Princ.i.p.al Murphy to take it easy on me, saying the scuffle wasn"t anything serious. No harm, no foul.
"I appreciate what you"re trying to do," said Princ.i.p.al Murphy. "It shows a lot of character, but rules are rules. Now, get to cla.s.s."
Finn thanked him and left.
I watched Finn through the window on the side of Princ.i.p.al Murphy"s office. He paused once he reached the hall and shook his head, as if scolding me for refusing his friendship.
On my way out, I took off Dan"s varsity jacket and hung it in his locker. I was pretty sure Dan would never wear it again. And neither would I.
Dan"s mom was furious when she got home. The school secretary had called her at work to inform her of the suspension.
"I don"t know what to do with you, Daniel," she said, pacing the kitchen. "This acting out has got to stop. Maybe I should be stricter. Is that what you want? More boundaries?"
"No," I said. "I don"t think more boundaries will help."
"Then what do you want me to do?" She picked up a dish and set it in the sink. That"s the thing about Dan"s mom - she always had to be doing something.
"I just made a mistake," I said. "It"s no big deal."
"You"re suspended. That goes on your transcript. What"s your dad going to think?"
That Dan"s a quitter, I thought, recalling the conversation Dan had with his father.
"He"ll blame me," she continued.
"Why? You didn"t do anything wrong."
"Is it attention? Is that what you want?"
"I don"t want anything."
"I give up, Dan. I don"t know who you are anymore. You"re not acting like yourself."
That got my attention. "How should I act?" I said. "You want me to smile and work all the time and pretend everything"s great like you do?"
"No. Things haven"t been great in a long time."
Her response surprised me.
Dan"s mom sighed and put down the sponge. "I"m sorry. I shouldn"t have said that."
"It"s okay."
"It"s not okay. I know this past year hasn"t been easy for you. Or your sister. But I want you to know that I"m trying. I really am. There"s just so much I have to do -"
"You don"t have to do anything for me."
"That"s not true."
"I"m fine, Mom." It was the first time I"d ever called her that. "I can take care of myself."
Her expression softened. "You shouldn"t have to," she said. "I"m your mom. It"s my job to take care of you."
I stepped back, hating how she blamed herself for Dan"s actions. "There"s nothing you can do," I repeated. "Please, just let me go."
"Dan -"
I ducked into his room and locked the door.
Things would have been better if I could have gotten the zombie to fall asleep, only I was too keyed up from the conversation with Dan"s mom and the fight at school. I surfed the Internet and paced his room for a while. I even tried doing push-ups, but it didn"t help. Sleep stayed a million miles away. Eventually I climbed out his window, unable to stand being cooped up inside a moment longer.
Going to Cat"s place wasn"t an option since I was still in Dan"s body, so I headed downtown instead. That"s when I heard the sirens. A police car approached, lights flashing and engine roaring. It rushed past and careened around a corner. I followed the sirens to see what was going on.
A fire truck, ambulance, and two police cars lined a road bisecting Main Street. Orange cones blocked off one lane, and flares burned around the accident site, casting a sickly mauve glow. Drivers slowed to see the wreck, causing traffic to back up. About a dozen people stood on the sidewalk or peered out from nearby windows and porches.
I crossed the street to get a better look. The car appeared to have missed a turn and skidded into a concrete drainage ditch. It looked like it had rolled once or twice because the windows were all broken and the roof was crushed. Skid marks snaked across both lanes. A couple firefighters circled the car, but most of the activity surrounded the ambulance where a body lay strapped to a stretcher. Two paramedics bustled around, attaching wires and tubes.
One of the paramedics, a tall guy with a shaved head, looked familiar. He"d come to Dan"s house my first day here - the one who b.u.mped his knee on the bathtub faucet while lifting the zombie.
The other paramedic, a stocky woman, worked an air bag while the tall paramedic got out a defibrillator and rubbed gel onto the electric paddles. He ripped open the guy"s shirt and pressed the metal plates to pale flesh. The body twitched, then lay motionless. The tall paramedic fiddled with a few dials and gave the guy another jolt with the paddles. Both paramedics stood still, staring at a computer screen. The whole scene appeared to freeze.
Some blip or beep or other sign set them into motion again. Maybe the guy"s heart had started up. The tall paramedic gave the guy a shot while the woman went back to pumping the air bag. They raised the stretcher and slid it into the brightly lit interior of the ambulance. A firefighter climbed into the back with the female paramedic. I wanted to see their brisk, urgent movements as hopeful, but they might have just been putting on a show like they would when Dan died, and as soon as the ambulance pulled away, they"d tug a sheet over the guy"s face and talk about sports.
The tall paramedic shut the ambulance doors and jogged to the cab. He turned, briefly meeting my gaze before getting in. I swear he hesitated for a moment, as if he knew me.
Time sped up again and he hopped into the driver"s seat. Lights flashed as the ambulance rushed away. After a block, the driver turned on the sirens, just like he"d do for Dan twelve days from now.
A tow truck arrived and pulled the car out of the ditch. Later, a policeman swept up the broken gla.s.s. Almost everyone else had left by then. The policeman seemed to resent being the last one there. He didn"t do a very thorough job of sweeping. After a few minutes, he glanced around and scowled at me. Then he tossed the broom and dustpan into the trunk of his squad car and drove off, leaving shards of green-edged gla.s.s sparkling in the road.
Dan wouldn"t fall asleep until late that night. When I finally slipped free of him, I went straight to the Coffee Spot to meet TR. Except for a few drunk guys eating waffles, the place looked empty. TR sat in the back corner booth where Cat and her friends usually sat. He was hunched over someone"s dirty cup, as if he might pick it up at any moment and take a sip.
I slid into the seat across from him. "Been here long?"
He kept staring at the coffee. I expected him to be p.i.s.sed that I hadn"t come earlier, but his thoughts seemed elsewhere.
"I saw you at that accident tonight," he said after a minute. "At least I saw the zombie there. It was a bad one. The guy almost died."
"How do you know he didn"t?"
TR peered into the coffee mug for several seconds. I considered whether it was Cat"s cup, but red lipstick stained the rim. Cat didn"t wear lipstick.
"I saw a rider like us," TR said.
I straightened, wondering why he hadn"t mentioned this right away. "Did you talk to him?"
TR shook his head. "He seemed dazed. Just kept staring at the body on the stretcher. I think that"s where he came from."
"Came from?"
TR took a deep breath. "I think we"re them," he said. "The corpses. I think we come from them - like we"re bits of their soul or something, and we broke off. And now we"re echoing back."
"That"s ridiculous."
"Don"t tell me you"ve never thought about it," said TR.
I had, of course, but that didn"t mean it was true. "I"m. Not. Dan." I stood and walked through the wall into the parking lot.
TR followed me out. "That"s exactly how I felt at first. Like I"d ever want to be Waster. But then I thought, what if the reason Waster acts the way he does is because I broke off," he said. "What if he gets drunk all the time and crashed his truck because he lost me?"
"Look, even if I was once part of Dan, I"m not anymore. I"m my own person now." I cut through the back lot and headed toward Cat"s place.
"You"re not the only one who"s done bad things," said TR.
I slowed, not sure what he was talking about. I hadn"t done anything bad. Granted, losing control and letting Dan attack Finn hadn"t been good. And hara.s.sing Cat with the figurines was a mistake. But I"d fix that. Ever since I"d arrived, all I"d tried to do was make things better.
"Waster messed up, too," continued TR. "He did something terrible. It"s not easy for me to admit that I"m him - that I messed up like that. But maybe it"s the only answer."
I kept walking.
TR jogged to catch up with me. "The rider I saw merged back into the guy," he said.
"So? That doesn"t prove anything. We get pulled back into the corpses every morning."
"Yeah, but this was different. This rider didn"t fight it. Instead, it was like he surrendered himself. And then everything was okay," said TR. "The guy"s heart started to beat again."
"Don"t be stupid," I said. "If you surrender like that, you"re done. Waster will take over, and you"ll be lost. No more TR."
TR nodded, seeming to agree with me. We pa.s.sed through some bushes into a neighborhood.
"What if that"s the sacrifice we need to make?" he asked.
I couldn"t believe this. After all we"d been through, was he trying to convince me to give up? "Waster isn"t going to make things right," I told him. "And neither will the zombie. They"re the ones who messed things up. That"s why we have to take over completely, so we can undo what they did."
TR paused. I turned to see why he"d stopped.
"Do you ever wonder if maybe, instead of saving Cat, you"re supposed to save Dan?" he asked.