“Of course.” I nodded, kicking myself. This was clearly not the time or place.
Zander smiled. “You free after school?”
I didn’t even protest when Zander suggested the mall, happily surprised he wasn’t going to avoid talking about Saturday. Probing his past wouldn’t be easy for either of us, but it was just the opening I’d been looking for. I felt closer to him already. So what if I’d started the conversation about his dad? His willingness to continue it told me he really did care about me. And trust me. Enough to open up the fragile parts of himself.
I’d left my gloves in the car and relished the touch of our palms as we walked hand in hand past Sears, toward the theater. I looked for the pimply kid, but he wasn’t at the ticket window. On break, I thought briefly, ready to ask Zander if he wanted to see the new movie this weekend. Then I saw him—the pimply kid—and did a double-take, staring as he walked across the color-flecked carpet, waving to a coworker on his way for a soda or fries or a horrible accident.
He had the mark.
Zander must have felt me tense up. He followed my gaze. “So it’s today.” A satisfied smile spread across his face. “Finally.”
It gelled, slowly at first, like metal inching within range of a magnet. Why we’d been coming to the mall so often, always passing the theater. Why he’d been so ready to come today, even if it meant a dreaded conversation.
None of it had been coincidence.
I stared at Zander, accusation all over my face.
“What?” he demanded. Zander glanced at the marked boy innocently. “You mean him?”
“You knew. Every day we came here. It wasn’t to buy a shirt or see a movie or go to that new restaurant. It was for him.”
Zander nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Correct.”
I was stunned. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were doing this together.”
“I wasn’t sure I could trust you.”
“What? You weren’t sure you could trust me? How can you say that? You’re the one who just tricked me into telling you about the mark!”
He turned to face me, hands on his hips. “So if I’d told you his time was close and I needed to know when, you’d have come? Helped?”
“Of course.”
“Really, Cassie?” He lifted an eyebrow skeptically. “Are you sure?”
No. Not when I knew what Zander would do without stopping to think or question. I wasn’t sure at all.
He nodded, able to read everything on my face and in the silence. “I think we’ve had this conversation before, Cassie. On our way to that woman in the alley. The one you couldn’t get over, even though it was clear there wasn’t a person in the world who needed our help more. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
Zander turned sharply on his heel then, a faint squeal of rubber on the tile, ready to go after the boy.
I caught his arm. “What are you doing?” I hissed. “You’re not going to—”
“I’m going to follow him, Cassie. Come with me or don’t, but I have a job to do.”
He pulled his arm free and strode toward the boy. I had no choice but to follow.
In less than a minute we were behind him, just two paces back. He wore baggy gray cargos and a dark tee that hung loose on his bony shoulders. He walked slowly, with a slight limp, pitching to his left side where his heavy boots were unevenly scuffed.
He was going to die today.
It was a jarring thought that I’d never get used to no matter how many times I saw the mark. Zander kept a steady distance behind him, not moving closer, but giving no room for his prey to escape. I stayed right beside Zander, with no idea how to stop him or if I should.
The boy was my age, at most. Had his whole life ahead of him. He could grow up to cure AIDS or be a world leader or business pioneer. Or a school shooter or ra**st or drug dealer.
I knew nothing about him and had no time to learn.
He glanced lazily into the stores he passed, totally oblivious to the fact that Death was right behind him. I willed him to stay in the open, give me time to decide. I was sure Zander would need a little privacy or at least a chance to get close to the kid in a way that wouldn’t attract attention.
Was this boy’s life worth risking—no, say it—taking someone else’s for?
In the end, it was a Lego that helped me choose. The boy with the mark looked down, startled by the snap of plastic. He’d been peering in his wallet when it happened and when the man leaving the card store bumped into him, it flopped to the ground, cards and slips of paper scattering all around.
Zander stepped forward, but I darted in front of him, kneeling next to the kid.
“Thanks,” he said as I pushed some of the money his way. It probably seemed strange that I didn’t hand it to him, but I couldn’t bring myself to actually touch him, dip my hand within the field of the mark.
“Are you here alone?” I asked, low enough that I hoped Zander wouldn’t hear.
The boy narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why?”
I could feel Zander behind me, edging closer. I shifted to the left, boxing him out.
“I just …” I floundered for a lie. “I thought I saw you with someone I knew earlier.”
“My mom?” He flipped over his wallet and the second picture was of a woman with this boy, maybe a year or two ago. It was just the two of them, a posed portrait like you might get at Sears. Just him and her.
It made me think of the one on Jackson Kennit’s nightstand, and that plus the fact that this slouchy, too-cool-looking kid actually kept a picture of his mom in his wallet, was all it took.
“Listen,” I said, cutting my eyes to the side, looking for Zander. “You’re in danger. Not from me. And I’m not crazy. But I am psychic. I don’t know what the danger is, I can only warn you to be careful. Have your mom come get you as soon as she can. Don’t do anything dangerous today.” I looked over my shoulder, ready to face Zander’s wrath, but he was nowhere around. “In the meantime, stay in the open, somewhere with people. And keep away from the guy who was with me. He’s tall with dark hair, wearing jeans and a black sweater.” I paused, trying to think if there was anything else, not quite able to say “it’s going to be okay,” without knowing if it was true.
The boy stared at me, his eyes big and round, scared.
Good.
I stood, my knees weak. I was scared too, had no idea how Zander would react, but was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be happy. I backed away, the kid still squatting and staring. I turned to walk down the store-lined hall but didn’t get two steps before Zander grabbed my arm, pulling me into the restroom corridor nearby.