The Storm King(28)

“Me? I’m fine, but—”

“What?”

“Adam. He did this to his own girlfriend.”

“Kinda doubt the winter formal’s in the cards for them now, don’t you?”

“Hasn’t she been through enough?” Before Halloween, Nate had taken his own shots at Lucy. He understood now that she hadn’t deserved them, which was one reason why he’d tried to make up for it yesterday at the boutique. He’d stopped Mrs. Sackett from calling the police on Lucy. They were even now.

“Well, not compared to you. Compared to you she’s barely—”

“Stop,” Nate said. “Don’t compare her to me. Try comparing her to every other person in this town. Every other person you’ve ever met. Who else has a dad in prison? Who else lost all their friends and all their money? Does anyone else feel totally alone all the time, and just when she felt so sure things couldn’t possibly get any worse?”

“Okay, yeah,” Tom said. “It’s a really crappy thing. You’re right. It sucks for her. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

“People like Adam, they’ll hurt anyone they can get away with hurting just because they can. And he did it to his own girlfriend. That makes it betrayal.” It was one thing for the universe to conspire against you, but for people to do it to each other—to those who trusted them? “He can’t get away with it.”

—

NATE STARED AT his bedroom ceiling as a reel of destruction played through his head. He imagined Adam Decker being chased down the Strand by crop threshers with whirling blades, tied by a line to a motorboat that whipped him across the lake’s freezing surface like a skipped stone, encircled by townspeople on the beach below the cliffs as they pitched its smooth rocks at him one by one.



Nate had left his email open, and the ping of a new message pulled him from the furnace of his mind. The email was from Tom: Got an idea. Room 214, HS. 3:00. He’d also sent the email to Johnny.

It was Sunday, but Nate bet some of the school’s entrances would be unlocked. Opening night for a student production of Our Town was only a few days away, and he suspected the auditorium would be filled with the sounds of hammering and the smells of fresh paint.

He doubted whatever Tom had come up with would sate his own appetite for ruin, but it might be a start. When he pulled on his coat, his mind danced with razors and ropes and flames.

Greystone Lake’s high school was an imperious neoclassical building that loomed over its neighbors. Nate was a block away when Johnny and Owen crossed the street in front of him.

“Nate, the Vengeful King himself,” Johnny shouted when he saw him. “O was over, so I brought him.”

Nate nodded to Owen. The big guy wasn’t really one of them, but he’d demonstrated he could be trusted.

After Johnny had showed them his bruised back on Halloween, Nate promised that they’d punish Mr. Vanhouten. That storm had been perfect cover for his plan. When they’d crept out of the Night Ship, the Lake’s streets had been empty except for the roar of wet leaves by the legion. Rain had seared their faces as they’d approached the Wharf, where Johnny’s father docked his beautiful sailboat, the Pharaoh.

They’d cut the Pharaoh loose from its moorings, and the wind had done the rest. Its bottomed-out hull had been discovered all the way out on Blind Down Island two days later. The lake returns what it takes. The boat was a small loss for Mr. Vanhouten, but Johnny had been flying high ever since.

Though Mr. Vanhouten blamed the storm and the dock supervisor, Johnny knew the truth. He’d enjoyed the intoxication of revenge without the hangover of consequences. Destroying the sailboat had been good for Nate, too, though in a more complicated way. The fury inside him had to go somewhere. So many things in the world deserved it.



Owen had accompanied them back on Halloween, and they’d hung out with him a few times since. Nate had intended to punish Mrs. Liffey, Owen’s mother, during the next big storm, but this morning’s email had sent Adam Decker to the top of his list.

“Any clue what Tommy’s cooking?” Johnny asked. “Not like him to start trouble.”

Nate had himself been pleased by Tom’s enthusiasm. This morning, it seemed like his friend hadn’t understood why Nate wanted to protect Lucy from Adam. Nate wasn’t sure that even he fully understood it.

“You think this has to do with Adam sending those pictures of Lucy Bennett?” Owen asked. “Because I thought we didn’t like Lucy either?”

“Adam’s our enemy, O,” Johnny said. “Remember Halloween?”

Room 214 was in the school’s science wing. Each classroom had hexagonal tables with sinks and designated taps for Bunsen burners. Hazard signs were hung next to the doors with safety rules for the labs.

Nate entered the lab first and was confounded by the sight of Tom crouched in a corner. Then he saw Adam and Adam’s friend with the face like baked beans perched on a lab table and understood. The wider of Adam’s two minions appeared from behind to hustle the other boys into the lab.

Stocky slammed the lab’s door behind him.

When the door shut, the pressure in the room changed. The buzz of the ventilation system seemed to amplify.

“Hey, Nate,” Adam said. “How’s your day going?” His laid-back smile didn’t touch his unblinking eyes. Both he and Beans tapped lacrosse sticks against the lab bench to the rhythm of a song only they seemed to hear.