The Departed by Shiloh Walker Page B

instead of hiding somewhere and making an anonymous call, he found himself heading to the water park. He got there just as she was pushing through the doors. Trailing after her, he watched as she breezed by the lifeguard checking the wristbands—they should have checked her bag, he thought as sweat collected and trickled down his neck. They should have checked—it was the rules.
    But they didn’t and he even knew why.
    She walked around with that I belong here attitude. Luther had told him all about that attitude. If you act like you got a right to be someplace, a lot of people won’t even question it. She acted like she belonged there, like there was nothing unusual about the bag she carried. Like there was nothing unusual about her walking, fully clothed, toward the three-story water fort.
    Mark’s radio buzzed, but he ignored it. Water was all over him now, but he ignored that, too. Nothing mattered now except her. She was near the edge of the first floor of the fort now, letting that bag slide off her hand. Something about the way she caught it made him think it was heavy. Very heavy, despite how easily she carried it. She dumped it on the ground and then turned, looked up at the water bucket.
    His heart leaped into his throat at the look in her eyes.
    Oh, fuck. She knows.
    Then she slanted a look his way.
    * * *
     
    SHE’D known he was following her almost from the second he came inside. She’d felt him, even through her shields. Felt his torment, his confusion—shit, he was almost as screwed up as some of her ghosts.
    Dez stared at him, her heart so full of fury, it took a moment to realize what she was seeing in his eyes. There was terror, yes, but there was also something else. Relief. And hope.
    One thought blasted at her shields, so strong and clear, she had to wonder if he had some sort of psychic skill — Oh, fuck. She knows . Shit, there was just too much stimulus coming at her here. It was driving her nuts.
    “Yeah.” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the water. “I know.” Flicking her wet hair back from her face, she glanced at his radio, then back at him. “What do you plan on doing about it?”
    He swallowed and glanced around, as though he expected the boogeyman to jump out at him. Then he just shook his head.
    “What’s that mean, kid? You plan on standing there? Doing nothing? Does it mean you’re not going to tell me?”
    “I’m not going to do anything,” he said, his voice shaking…but certain enough. He was pale and she was pretty sure some of the moisture she saw on his face was sweat and tears, not just water.
    She blew out a breath and studied his face. “Okay, then.” She couldn’t waste any more time. She’d already sent a message calling for the cavalry, although she had no idea when they’d get here. She’d dreaded sending that message, but if by chance somebody stopped her before she got up there…besides, as insane as this story was, she needed somebody to back her up.
    Crouching down, she unzipped her bag. One thing the past year had taught her—be prepared. For everything. That might include needing things like ropes and such. Once she’d had to go down into a cave—an unmarked one, unmapped, to help one of her ghosts.
    Yeah, the past year had been an eye-opening experience, all right. Standing, she met the boy’s eyes once more.
    He was staring at the rope, that odd look still on his face—dismay, confusion…and hope. Then he met her eyes. “Hurry. She’s been in there a long time. I…” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “Just hurry. And be careful. They’ve got things set to get all fucked up later tonight, but if they see you…”
    “I’ll be careful.”
    * * *
     
    “WHAT?”
    Taylor clutched the phone, certain he’d misheard Gina, because this couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not here . Not now . Not here …here, of all the fucking places. If Taylor had still believed in God, he just might have thought the big guy was pissed