The Lost Saint - Page 32/79

“This is bogus,” Chris said. “My dad will never let us go off campus like that.”

“Actually, your father will be helping oversee your group today. And I think you’ll make a good co-captain for Grace.”

Even more perfect. I doubted Chris had done a single school assignment in the last three years. The only reason he hadn’t been kicked out of HTA was because his dad was the principal. I could just picture myself doing all the work on my own.

I was about to protest and insist on being in Daniel’s group, but I realized this might be the perfect opportunity to look for Jude in the city again. Maybe I’d be able to sneak away at some point—stake out The Depot, more incognito this time, or some of the other surrounding businesses.

“Okay,” I said. “So when do we get started?”

ON THE SCHOOL BUS

Gabriel hadn’t been kidding about Mr. Shumway’s having made all the arrangements already. He had permission slips signed by all of our parents, and we were set to get working immediately.

Half the class went to the market with Daniel and Gabriel, and the rest of us got on a school bus with Principal Conway. I thought we wouldn’t be getting started at least until the next day, but Gabriel said that the project was actually supposed to start last Friday, so the Rock Canyon people were eager to get us working. I didn’t have a problem with this sudden development, since it meant that I’d be able to get to the city sooner than expected.

Only Principal Conway informed us that we would be meeting the Good Samaritan group at the rec center in Apple Valley. Just a few of us would even be going into the city at all—depending on our driver’s agenda.

I passed out the stack of papers Gabriel had handed to me just before I got on the bus. He’d already paired everyone up, with Chris and me working together, just as I’d feared. When the bus pulled up to the rec center, we all filed out into the parking lot and were met by a line of vans marked with the Rock Canyon logo—two hands clasped.

“Your driver will have you back here in two hours, then we’ll all take the bus back to the school,” I instructed. Then the group broke up, and I hung back with Principal Conway to make sure everyone got into the correct vans and made it off all right.

I felt a pang of jealousy as I waved to April and Claire as they pulled out of the parking lot with a middle-aged female driver in the last of the vans. My slip of paper said I was supposed to be on van number 8, but there had been only seven vans to begin with, and now everyone but the principal, Chris, and me was gone.

“That’s strange,” Principal Conway said. “I’ll go talk to the director and see what the holdup is with the last van.” He pulled out his cell phone and walked inside the rec center.

Chris and I stood alone in the parking lot for a moment. The wind tossed my hair. I rubbed my arms. It had been an exceptionally warm autumn this year, but now I found myself wishing I’d brought a light jacket. Hopefully, the last van wouldn’t take too long to get here.

“This is lame,” Chris said. “I’m out.”

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and started to walk away.

“Um, where do you think you’re going?” I called after him.

“I saw an arcade down the street. I’ll be back in a couple of hours before the bus leaves.”

“But the van is here.” I pointed at the white van with dark tinted windows and the clasped-hands logo that was just now pulling into the parking lot.

“Whatever,” Chris said, and kept walking.

The white van pulled up just ahead of me. I didn’t like the way I couldn’t see into the windows. It was one thing to get into a van with a total stranger when at least one other person from school was supposed to be with me, but now that I was alone, I didn’t like the idea at all. Goose bumps prickled up my arms, and I hesitated on the curb.

The passenger’s-side window of the van rolled down a couple of inches. “You coming?” a deep voice called from inside. I still couldn’t see the driver.

I glanced back at the rec center entrance, to see if Principal Conway was coming back anytime soon.

“We gotta get on the road if we want to be back in time for your bus.”

I picked up my backpack and walked to the van. I pulled the door open and was about to tell the driver to go on without me.

“Grace Divine?” asked the driver. He smiled at me from under his baseball cap. The sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled up to his elbows. “I told you I’d be seeing you around.”

I almost fell over backward. I grabbed the handle of the door to steady myself. “Nathan Talbot? What on earth are you doing here?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Rescue

HALF A SECOND LATER

“Call me Talbot, please. Nobody but my mom ever called me Nathan.”

“Okay, Talbot, then … seriously, what are you doing here?” I was stalled halfway through the van door.

“Um, my job?” Talbot tipped his baseball cap toward me. It had the clasped-hands logo embroidered on the front. His unbuttoned flannel shirt revealed a T-shirt under it with the words ROCK CANYON FOUNDATION: THE GOOD SAMARITAN PROJECT written on the front. I guessed that was why that guy in the club had called him the Good Samaritan.

Talbot patted the passenger seat. “So you getting in, or what?”

I hesitated again and looked back at the rec center. No sign of Principal Conway or Chris anywhere nearby.

“I don’t bite, I swear.” Talbot grinned, and his dimples appeared in his tan cheeks. “Like I said, we gotta hit the road now if we want to make it back in time for the bus.”

I couldn’t help but stare at Talbot’s friendly smile as he spoke. That wave of warm familiarity rolled through me. What was it with him? I mean, he was barely a step up from a stranger, yet something about him made me feel like we were old friends. You can trust him, a quiet voice whispered inside my head.

“Yeah. Okay.” I climbed into the van and sat in the passenger seat. I glanced back at the rec center entrance one last time and figured Principal Conway would know that I’d left with the last van when he came back and I was gone.

“Where’s your partner?” Talbot asked.

“He took off. Went to an arcade down the street.”

“Good,” Talbot said. He gripped the steering wheel with his large, tanned hands and drove the van away from the curb and through the parking lot. “I hate it when I get assigned kids who don’t want to do the work.” His green-eyed gaze flicked in my direction. “You’re up for this, right?”