Seizure(96)

“Chance isn’t the only one,” I muttered. “Two days ago, I made a mistake at cotillion. I flashed my eyes at Madison Dunkle.”

“You did what!?” Shelton popped to his feet.

“Tory, no!” Hiram’s eyes were dinner plates.

“Quiet!” Ben raised a hand. “Tell us what happened.”

I did. Every last detail. When I’d finished, the boys sat mute, considering the implications of my actions.

“Maybe you can play it off,” Shelton suggested. “Pretend it was a trick with the lighting. Or funny contact lenses.”

I nodded, but wasn’t convinced.

“You’re sure Courtney and Ashley didn’t see?” Ben asked.

“Reasonably. I leaned close to Madison for maximum effect.”

Hi shook his head. Shelton’s gaze found the ceiling.

“Look, it was stupid. I know that.”

My statement was greeted by vigorous nods.

“But only Madison saw, and she isn’t likely to talk. Everyone heard me tell her off, and I was incredibly rude. If she starts saying weird things about me now, no one will believe her. Plus, she’ll look weak.”

“You can smell people’s emotions?” Shelton had retaken his seat on the bench. “Seriously? That’s kind of dope.”

I shrugged. “Sometimes. Hi and I did some research, and it’s not as wacky as it sounds. You just need a crazy-good nose.”

To clean the slate, I told Ben and Shelton about my flare at the yacht club, and how I’d used my sniffing power to read Lonnie Bates.

“How many times have you flared in public?” Ben scowled. “Ridiculous.”

“So dogs can smell fear.” Shelton scratched Coop’s ears. “I knew it.”


“We need to keep Chance away from Madison,” Hi said. “Both have seen too much, but alone, neither would be believed. Together? Different story.”

“Chance saw the most,” Ben said grimly. “He’s witnessed two separate flare incidents. The whole deal. He’s a major threat now.”

“Maybe an alligator ate him,” Shelton joked lamely.

“Plus, Chance is an escaped mental patient,” Hi added. “That’s not exactly the apex of the credibility pyramid.”

“He won’t go to the police,” Ben guessed. “Chance thinks we found treasure.”

“We’ll deal with Chance when he turns up,” I said. “Right now, we need to focus on our next move.”

“Let it go!” Shelton slapped his knees in frustration.

“There’s no move to make, Tory.” Hi pointed to the empty chest resting against the bunker wall. “We found the treasure, and it’s right there. Nothing.”

“We can’t just quit.” I sounded like a broken record. “If we do, I’ll be moving to freaking Alabama!”

That got their attention.

“That’s right. Kit has accepted an offer. I’ll be gone in a month.”

“Me too,” Hi said quietly. “My dad lined up a gig in Missouri. Some chemical factory. I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you guys.”

“We’re moving, too.” Shelton kicked a tennis ball. Coop scampered after it. “Palo Alto. Next month. But hey, West Coast is the best coast, right?”

Worse and worse. My eyes flicked to Ben.

“I’ll still be here. Only over in Mount Pleasant, with my mom. She’s enrolling me at Wando High.” Ben gave a tough-guy shrug. “Could be okay.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. Each Viral was wrapped in his or her own gloomy thoughts. The meeting now felt like a hospital vigil. Our pack was on life support.

“We have to keep at it.” I tried for one last rally. “We can’t allow anything to split us up! I’m afraid.”

Hi crossed the room and placed a hand on mine.

“I wish things could be different, too.” His eyes were glassy. “But sometimes you can’t win. We’re just kids.”

With those words, he ducked into the crawl and slipped out of the bunker.

Shelton bailed next, wiping his eyes. Ben followed, unwilling to meet my gaze. That left Coop and me.

I got down and rubbed his snout. Coop rolled to his back, delighted by my attention.

“You won’t leave me, will you boy?”

The tension of the last week finally overwhelmed my defenses.

Anguish rocked me.

I wanted Mom. Needed the warmth of her embrace. The soothing, familiar comfort of her hands stroking my hair, her arms hugging me, her lips whispering that everything would be okay. That I was safe. Loved.

And I couldn’t have it. Not then, or ever again.

I cried and cried and cried, my only comfort the companionship of my loyal wolfdog. We huddled together on the bunker floor, me weeping, Coop licking the tears from my cheeks.

I’d never felt more beaten.





“GET A GRIP, Victoria. Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

Coop cocked an ear.

“Not you, big guy.” I scratched his snout. “Mommy’s upset that everyone threw in the towel.”

Maybe the boys were right. What else could we do?

There were no more riddles or poems. No treasure map to follow.