Tag, You're It! by Penny McCall Page A

called out, but those who were present in the diner immediately supplied a reason they couldn't guide Tag. Some of the reasons were pretty lame, and as people realized they'd gotten all they were going to get out of him, they began to leave.
    "I guess it's you as my guide or no one," Tag said to Alex.
    She pushed her empty plate aside and drank some more of his coffee. "You know all those people who couldn't guide you?" she said. "They're going out to look for the treasure themselves. Within a week the hills and valleys around here will be so crowded they'll be tripping over each other. They'll all be carrying guns, and some of these people shouldn't have passed the three-day waiting period to own one. They're harmless most of the time, but I wouldn't want to be wandering around with armed men all over the place."
    "You think they're going to shoot at me?"
    "I think they're likely to hit you. Hunting accidents happen all the time."
    Tag thought about that, and while he was mulling, Matt came in and stopped at their table.
    "Is it as bad as we thought it would be?" he wanted to know.
    "Worse," Alex said. "A lot of these guys are from out of town."
    "I was kind of hoping the people around here would keep this to themselves."
    "Word got out a lot sooner than you expected."
    "Yeah." Matt gave Tag a hard, warning look, and wandered off to the counter. Annabelle was there almost before he got his butt on the stool, pouring him coffee and batting her eyes.
    "Isn't he going to do anything about these lunatics?" Tag asked.
    Alex shook her head. "From what I understand this happens about every ten years and blows over in a few months. Your best bet is to wait it out."
    Except he didn't have a few months, Tag thought. He had to figure out what was going on. In order to do that he needed Alex's cooperation, and she was still refusing to come on board. Things could probably get worse, but he didn't see how.
    "There's some sort of commotion outside." Alex stood up so she could see out the windows.
    Tag retrieved his coffee and racked his brain for a way around the dead end.
    "Looks like more newcomers," Alex said, "in black SUVs. And the guy in charge is really… short."
    She headed for the door. Tag kept his seat. The dead end had just grown another wall. Shit.



Chapter Seven
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    BY THE TIME THEY GOT OUTSIDE, A HUMMER, A Land Rover, and a Jeep were parked in the middle of the street. All three of the vehicles were shiny, unadorned black, and all were equipped with tire chains. The rear license plate on the Hummer read "Eureka 1" Alex figured the others were "2" and "3," since the overall theme was "private army" and armies generally encouraged uniformity.
    The Hummer was dragging the kind of trailer workers used to transport a lot of tools, shiny black and completely enclosed. Keeping its own secrets. The Land Rover and the Jeep were keeping their secrets, too, the drivers staying inside, behind dark tinted windows.
    The Hummer driver was standing on his running board, one hand on the open door, the other on his hip, surveying his surroundings like Bluebeard on the poop deck of his pirate ship. Hilary atop Mount Everest. Pee Wee Herman in his playhouse.
    His head barely reached the top of the Hummer's winand Alex caught herself craning her neck to see if he used a booster seat. She was having a hard time taking him seriously, but she was the only one holding back her merriment. The rest of the crowd was speechless—which was saying something in Casteel—huddled together like a herd of wildebeests sharing their water hole with a leopard.
    Alex was puzzled about the fear until she looked into his hard black eyes, and then she understood. Cold was the word that came to mind, along with unfeeling, cruel. Ruthless.
    He peeled off a pair of leather driving gloves, one finger at a time, and took off his Ray-Bans to look around the town, ending with a slow and disdainful perusal of the people crowded along the sidewalk. They