Home > The Possessed (Dark Visions #2)(8)

The Possessed (Dark Visions #2)(8)
Author: L.J. Smith

"It's getting light," Gabriel was saying. "I checked around; there's no activity out there: no cops, nothing. If we're going to get out, now's the time."

"Okay," Rob said. "But first, sit down a minute. We have to figure out what the plan is, what we're doing next. And we have to tell you what happened to us tonight."

"Something happened?" Gabriel looked around sharply. "I was—only gone for a few minutes."

"It wasn't anything real; it was a dream," Kaitlyn said, and she tried to quash her alarm again. That hesitation between "I was" and "only gone for a few minutes"—Gabriel was lying. She couldn't feel it in the web, but she knew.

Where had he been?

Rob was telling him about the dream. Gabriel listened to the whole story, looking amused and slightly contemptuous.

"If that's where you really think you're going, I don't care," he said when Rob finished. His handsome lip was curled. "All I care about is getting away from the California Youth Authority."

"Okay," said Rob. "Now, we ought to take stock—what have we got with us here? What're our assets?" He gave a rueful grin. “‘Fraid I don't have anything but my wallet and these files."

For the first time Kait consciously realized that neither Rob nor Gabriel had their duffel bags with them. Lost in the fight with Mr. Zetes, she guessed.

"I've got my bag," she said. "And a hundred dollars in my pocket"—she checked to make sure—"and maybe fifteen in my purse."

"I've got my bag," Lewis said. "But I don't think any of my clothes are going to fit either of you guys." He eyed Rob and Gabriel doubtfully—they were both several inches taller than he was. "And about forty dollars."

"I've only got a few dollars in change," Anna said. "And my bag of clothes."

"And I've got—oh, twelve-fifty," Rob said, flipping through his wallet.

"Jeez, only a hundred and fifty-something—remind me never to run away with you guys again," Lewis said.

"It's not even enough to buy bus tickets—and then we have to eat," Rob said. "And it's not as if we have just one destination—we've got to look for the place, so we don't really know where we're going. Gabriel, how much—"

Gabriel had been shifting where he sat, noticeably impatient. "I've got about ninety dollars," he said shortly—without, Kait noticed, mentioning that he'd gotten it from Joyce's purse. "But we don't need bus tickets," he added. "I've taken care of it. We've got transportation."

"Huh?"

Gabriel shrugged and stood, brushing crumbs of dirt off his clothes. "I've got us a car. I hotwired it and it's ready. So if you're finished talking…"

Kaitlyn leaned her head into her hands. "Oh, God."

She could feel the golden-white blaze of anger beside her. And now Rob was standing, moving up to get right in Gabriel's face. He was absolutely furious.

"You did what?" he said.

Chapter 4

Gabriel gave one of his wildest smiles. "I stole us a car. What about it?"

"What about it? It's wrong, that's what. We are not going around stealing people's cars."

"We stole Joyce's," Gabriel said musically and mockingly.

"Joyce was trying to kill us. That makes it—not right, maybe, but justifiable." He got even closer to Gabriel and said with deadly anger, emphasizing each word, "There is no justification for stealing things from innocent people."

Gabriel was clearly enjoying himself, relaxed but ready for action any minute. He wanted to fight, Kaitlyn realized—he was dying for it. Almost as if he were feeding off the blazing energy Rob radiated. "What's your idea, country boy? How do we get out of here?" he said.

"I don't know, but we don't steal. It's wrong. That's all." And for Rob, it was all, Kaitlyn knew. It was that simple for him.

She was chewing her lips, uneasily aware that it wasn't so simple for her. Half of her was impressed that Gabriel had gotten a car, and she had a sneaking feeling she'd be happy to ride away in it if she weren't nervous that they'd get caught. A car would be something to hold on to, an anchor against the uprooted, drifting feeling of being homeless.

But Rob would never go for it. Dear Rob. Dear honorable Rob, who was completely and utterly pigheaded and who could be the most exasperating boy on earth. Who was now glaring at Gabriel challengingly.

Gabriel bared his teeth in response. "And what about the old man? You don't think he's going to give up, do you? He'll have the police after us—and maybe other people. He has a lot of friends, a lot of connections."

It was true. Kaitlyn remembered the papers she had seen in Mr. Z's hidden room. There had been letters from judges, CEOs of big companies, people in the government. Lists of names of important people.

"We need to get out of here—now," Gabriel said. "And that means we need transportation." His eyes were locked on Rob's. Neither of them willing to give in.

They're going to fight, Kaitlyn thought, and she looked at Anna in despair. Anna had paused in the middle of brushing the dark and shining raven wing of her hair. She looked back worriedly at Kait.

We've got to stop them, she said.

I know, Kait thought back. But how?

Come up with another solution.

Kaitlyn couldn't think of another solution—and then it came to her.

Marisol, she thought.

Marisol. The research assistant back at the Institute. She'd been with Mr. Zetes even before Joyce, and she'd known about his plans. She'd tried to warn Kaitlyn—and Mr. Z had put her in a coma for it.

Kait said it aloud, with mounting excitement. "Marisol!"

It broke into Rob and Gabriel's stareout. "What?" Rob said.

Kaitlyn scrambled to her feet. "Don't you see—if anybody would help us, if anybody would believe us—and we're in Oakland. I'm sure Joyce said she was from Oakland."

"Kait, calm down. What are you—"

"I'm saying we should go to Marisol's family. They live here in Oakland. We could probably walk. And they might help us, Rob. They might understand this whole horrible thing."

   
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