Scar Island(18)

“Dang, man,” Miguel panted, wrestling with a leg that was slippery with rain. “Why’d I get stuck with three of the littlest guys?”

David, who was trying to get a good grip on the Admiral’s right arm, shot him a look.

“I ain’t no weakling.”

“Nah, nah, you know what I mean,” Miguel said quickly. “We all know you tough. That’s why you’re here, right? For being all tough and stuff and, like, almost killing some guy or something?”

Jonathan glanced nervously at David, but David just rolled his eyes.

“No. Just for fighting.”

“Yeah,” Miguel said. “But, like, a lot of fighting, right?”

David shrugged. They struggled for a few more steps in silence, but then he spoke again, his quiet voice a rush of frustration.

“I’m the only Japanese kid at my school, right? And every day—every day—they make fun of me. They push. They throw things. Whisper things. And so, yes, I fight back. So I get lots of practice, right? So, after a while, I start to win. And what’s wrong with that? So some … some … moron starts up again and ends up with a broken jaw and a concussion and I’m supposed to be sorry? The judge says”—David bitterly slipped into a deep, adult voice—“ ‘All these terrible fights, all these stitches and broken noses, and you are the common denominator.’ Me? I laughed at the judge. ’Cause from where I was sitting, the common denominator was all those stupid white boys.”

Miguel dropped the Admiral’s leg and straightened up to catch his breath.

“Sure, man,” he said. “Whatever you say. You’re on top. You’re the numerator, man. Just remember I ain’t white next time you start swinging, okay, champ?”

David scowled.

“What about you?” he asked. “What are you in for?”

Miguel shrugged.

“Eh. Truancy. I’m not, like, super great at showing up to school, you know? My folks chose to send me here, to fix my attitude. Can you believe that?” A grin spread across his face. “But look at me now! Choosing to stay here, when we could go home! I’m reformed!”

He looked around at them, waiting for a laugh, but they were all too tired and out of breath. Jonathan gave him a little smile and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“What about you, newbie?” Miguel asked. “What’d you do to get yourself sent here?”

Jonathan’s smile flickered away. His eyes dropped away from Miguel’s. The Admiral was looking up at him, his foul mouth open and his dead eyes gaping.

“Come on,” Jonathan said. “Let’s get this over with. This guy ain’t getting any lighter.”

The boys stooped and regained their holds and hoisted the Admiral up with a chorus of grunts and curses.

“Thith ith abtholutely inthane,” Colin complained under his breath, changing his grip around the Admiral’s left armpit. “We thould’ve told right away.”

“I’d keep that to yourself,” Jonathan murmured, looking up the hallway. “I think Sebastian’ll actually kick your butt if you keep talking like that.” Jonathan was holding the Admiral’s other limp arm and dragging him backward. Walter and David each had a leg.

“Thebathian? Thith wath all your idea, Jonathan.”

Jonathan frowned and cleared his throat. The Admiral’s head rocked from side to side as they walked, looking back and forth from him to Colin like he was listening to the conversation. Jonathan tried to avoid the Admiral’s glassy, staring eyes.

“Yeah, well, I was right. I didn’t want to go home.” The Admiral’s head flopped over to Colin.

“Well, thome of uth do.” The Admiral’s head flopped back to Jonathan.

Jonathan didn’t know what to say. He looked away from the Admiral’s accusing eyes.

“It’s just for a few days, Colin,” he said through gritted teeth. His fingers were burning from the Admiral’s weight. “Just relax. It’ll be fun.” The Admiral’s corpse looked back to Colin. His tongue was starting to stick out.

“Fun? With him in charge? He’ll be worth than the Admiral!” Colin looked down at the Admiral’s empty stare. “No offenth.”

“Sebastian’s not in charge,” Jonathan assured him. “No one is. It’s just all of us. He’s not taking over.”

Colin looked up into Jonathan’s eyes and frowned his little frown.

“Jutht wait and thee.” He shook his head. “The inmateth are running the athylum.”

“The inmates are running the asylum? What does that mean?”

Colin shrugged. “It’th jutht a thaying.”

“Who says it?”

“People.”

“When do they say it?” The Admiral’s head rocked back over to look at Jonathan.

Colin sighed and put his shoulder under the Admiral’s uncooperative arm.

“When everything thtarth to go wrong.”

By then, some of the boys had already made it to the freezer and dropped their bodies off. They walked out of the kitchen, red-faced and sweaty. Sebastian was among them.

“Listen up,” he called out, panting. “Once you get both your bodies put away, we’re gonna meet at the big table. We need to decide some stuff. And hurry up.”