51
Ted
The last thing Andy had screamed over his shoulder at me before he disappeared after the little girl was, “ Get the goddamn car. Move your ass!”
I could picture the keys dangling from the Civic ’ s ignition.
I knew he meant that I was supposed to get the car and follow him. Help him catch the little girl who ’ d escaped.
But that ’ s not where my mind went first.
It went to the idea of turning that ignition key and then driving away from the quarry and Andy as fast as I could, heading for Florida.
Because a notification on my phone had just informed me that there was the equivalent of nearly two million dollars in my Bitcoin wallet.
I stared in disbelief. I figured the Bitcoin transfer had fallen apart the way every other part of the plan seemed to be doing right now.
That part of the plan hadn ’ t failed, though. The money was right there. More than I ’ d ever seen—or would see—in my entire life.
For a minute, while I stood there with my feet rooted to the ground, those dollar signs felt as tempting as they had the day me and Andy first came up with this plan to Robin-Hood that money away from the helicopter parents and bitch-ass management at Bright Beginnings.
All that money, ours for the taking, if we could pull off the perfect heist.
I pictured myself taking my share of the physical cash—probably soggy from Andy stuffing it into the cooler—then driving as far and as fast as I could, across state lines, until I could breathe again. Lying low for a while. Then slipping away into a new life with a clean slate.
Maybe I ’ d send Andy his share of the Bitcoin money eventually, but maybe not. Maybe, if I was really, really lucky, he ’ d take the fall for this whole mess. Or find a way to blame it on the bus driver.
I took a step away from the junk pile. Then another, and another as I pushed away the thoughts of what Andy was going to do when he caught that little girl.
My eyes moved to the sheet of metal I ’ d glanced at so many times over the past twenty-four hours, but I kept walking.
No matter what I did next, there was no getting away from the fact that I could feel my future about to cave in on top of my head, the way the bunker shaft had caved in on top of all those kids we ’ d buried twenty feet underground.
They were probably dead.
They had to be dead, with all that dirt, didn ’ t they?
I thought about the way Mom ’ s face would scrunch up when she saw me and Andy ’ s names in the news. Those deep furrows in her forehead and cheeks that would nearly make her eyes disappear. Same face she made when she ’ d come to visit me after I got out of the hospital from the dirt-bike accident—and straight into jail.
Not surprised. Not even disappointed, really. Just fully disgusted. Like she had any moral high ground to judge me.
“ What a waste,” she ’ d say, as if she wasn ’ t rotting from the inside out in her filthy trailer, high as a kite. “ Never knew how to apply himself.”
I clenched my jaw tight and walked faster, steeling myself for what I was about to do. What I had to do.
Because fuck it.
Everything had already gone to shit. That gangly little girl was a goner, and that was on her. Nothing I did would help those kids on Bus 315. Probably.
Probably. That word repeated at the end of every thought like a corrupted audio track in my mind. I slapped the side of my head to make it stop, but I wasn ’ t walking anymore. I was just staring into space.
Apply yourself .
To my surprise, those words sounded like my own voice for once, not Mom ’ s.
“ For shit ’ s sake,” I whispered, feeling the adrenaline hit strong, like a bump.
Everything had gone to hell.
I glanced at Andy ’ s Civic, parked on the side of the dirt road. Then I looked back at the spot where the bunker was buried, in front of the hulking shapes rising behind it in The Pit.
Apply yourself.
Something snapped inside me, and for the first time since everything went to shit, I knew for certain what I was going to do.
Right now, the only thing that mattered anymore was the feel of keys in my hand.