Don't Get Caught(64)

Setup for the Asheville Celebration began two days ago, and carnival rides and booths fill the front lawn. Erected on the walkway to the school is a fifteen-foot-high curtained barrier concealing the Zippy statue that arrived this morning. A large stage has been constructed in front of the school’s entrance, with a large white screen behind it that will show Ellie’s documentary tomorrow. And there, sitting in lawn chairs on the stage like the Royal Guard of Assville, are Stranko and Hale.

“What are you smiling about?” I say.

“This,” Ellie says. “All of this is awesome. How often in life are we going to get to do something like this?”

“Probably not very much.”

“But we are now. That’s why I’m smiling. Even if this doesn’t work, this has been an awesome year. I’ve loved having a project for all of us to work on. It almost makes everything that’s happened worth it.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

“Ready?” I say.

“Absolutely.”

I take out my phone.

Me: Where r u???

We watch through the trees as Stranko takes his phone from his pocket.

Stranko: ?

Me: I’m in the tunnel. Hurry up.

Stranko: ?

I’ve texted about the tunnel to Stranko’s phone more than a dozen times in the last week, but whenever he’s asked for more information, I haven’t answered. Now it’s finally time to give him what he wants.

Me: Duh.

And with that, I attach a picture I’ve had waiting for just this moment.

Stranko stands up and shows the text and picture to Hale, who rises to join him. But Stranko shakes his head, and Hale sits back down. No way Stranko’s going to leave the statue unguarded. When he descends the stage stairs and disappears into the building, I send a text to Adleta.

On his way.

Adleta doesn’t reply, but he’s not supposed to. Leading up to this night, Adleta’s job was to keep close tabs on Stranko, and the only way he could do that was to be a part of the team again. It’s only because of his sacrificial apology to Stranko and the team that he knew tonight’s practice schedule and, therefore, Stranko’s whereabouts. It also gave Adleta a reason to be in the school well after hours—something we needed from him.

“I’m sort of bummed I’m going to miss this,” I say.

“We won’t,” Ellie says.

Before I can ask what she means, her phone vibrates.

FaceTime Request from Tim

She clicks Accept, and suddenly we’re in the loading dock, looking at the small open door and tunnel that Wheeler, Adleta, and I explored during work crew. Adleta crouches among the boxes on the opposite wall, hidden and waiting for Stranko.

“Wow, I should’ve thought of this,” I say.

“That’s why we’re a great team.”

I gnaw at a fingernail waiting for Stranko to appear on Ellie’s screen. But what if Stranko misunderstands the photo? Or he knows where the tunnel is but doesn’t go? Or shows up with someone else? Not that he would. If Stranko is going to bust the Chaos Club, he’s going to do it by himself. Which is unfortunate for him. If I’m not mistaken, I think the correct term is hubris. Wouldn’t the Asheville High English Department be proud of me?

Adleta’s wedged back in the boxes, so for minutes we can only see the tunnel entrance, but then Stranko’s jeaned ass fills the screen.

“There he is,” Ellie whispers.

Stranko has no idea he’s only a few feet from Adleta. He stands staring at the open door without moving for so long I think maybe the phone’s frozen. Then he takes one slow step forward and another, like an animal warily approaching unexpected food in the forest.

“He’s thinking about it,” Ellie says.

Stranko takes one more step, then bends over for a better look at the tunnel. He’s probably wishing he had a flashlight with him right now. He inches ahead, then kneels in front of the tunnel, his head almost inside.

“Come on,” I say. “Get in there.”

But Stranko doesn’t enter. He just kneels there, listening hard, probably hoping for definitive proof someone’s really back there. It’s just when I think Stranko’s not going to move forward any farther that the screen changes, and we’re looking at the side of Adleta’s leg, and then there’s a blurry rush and the screen fills with light. The picture on the screen jumps so chaotically that I get dizzy. I have no idea what I’m seeing. It’s all just fuzzy, nausea-inducing pandemonium.

Then the image completely disappears.

FaceTime Ended

“What happened?” Puma says.

My instinct is to grab Ellie’s hand and run, but no, we can’t do that. If Stranko has Adleta, there’s no way we’re leaving him behind. I type a text to Malone and Wheeler reading Abort. My finger goes to Send, but right before I tap it, Ellie says, “Oh!”

FaceTime Request from Tim

“Don’t answer it,” I say. “It could be Stranko.”

“But it could be Tim,” she says. “Besides, if it’s Stranko, he’ll know Tim was FaceTiming me. It’d be in the call history.”

She has a point. And if Stranko has Tim, I’m not letting Tim take the fall by himself. So I tell her to go ahead, and Ellie touches the Accept button. There, standing in front of the closed tunnel door, which inexplicably has a large box against it, is Adleta giving us a thumbs-up.