“Yeah, but isn’t that so they can keep a lid on the investigation?” Sarah asks. “That’s the FBI’s job, right?”
“My dad doesn’t think so. He should at least be kept in the loop, even if he can’t tell the rest of his officers about what’s happening. Plus, I know they found some bodies at the school and there was a lot of damage, but John got moved straight to the FBI’s most-wanted list. That seems a little extreme, right? Especially considering there’s no actual evidence that John was the one behind all this.”
“So, what? Do you think this is some kind of government conspiracy?” She sits up straighter in the passenger seat, leaning towards me.
“I just think maybe they know more about what’s going on with John’s people than they let on. I’m guessing some of the people in black suits are smart enough to realize that it wasn’t just some angry teenager who dug gigantic claw marks in the football field.”
“Jesus, Mark, you’re starting to sound like Sam,” she says. Then she shrugs a little. “But I guess he was right about some of that stuff we all thought was crazy. That would make sense. I mean, if stuff like this is happening across the country, someone is keeping track of it all, right? The FBI swooped in here really fast. Maybe they’re working with John’s . . . species?”
I can’t believe Sarah has fallen for someone who could be classified as another species.
“Or else they’re working with the monsters with all the glowing swords,” I say. “Which would mean we’ve just allowed the opposing team to set up shop in town.”
Sarah lets her head fall against the window again.
“Where are you, John?” she whispers, her breath fogging up the glass in front of her. “Where are you?”
We’re quiet for the rest of the drive home.
All I can think of is the promise I made to John when everything was going down at the school—that I would keep Sarah safe. Of course I’ll do that. I’d be doing it even if he hadn’t asked me to. But it makes my insides twist up to know that he’s the one she’s thinking of while I’m the one who’s actually looking out for her.
CHAPTER THREE
AFTER I DROP SARAH OFF AT HER HOUSE, I switch into detective mode.
It’s only been a little while since the whole “aliens are real and attacking your school” thing, but since then I’ve been trying to get as much information about what’s going on as possible. I’d like to say that it’s so that if Earth has to fight, I can take on the bad guys, but I think it’s mostly just because I need something to do. And because I like to be a person in the know. Preferably the one calling the shots. Maybe that’s what made me such a good quarterback. It’s surprisingly tough to go from being the guy who knows everything that’s going on in school to some dumb jock who didn’t even realize there was a war going on around him.
I can fix that. I just have to gather info.
Plus, it gives me something to talk to Sarah about other than whether or not I think John—and the others, but mostly just John—is okay or not. Even if it does make me sound a little like nutso Sam.
I take the long way home and drive past the high school. Not that I can get anywhere close to it—the authorities have the whole area around it pretty locked down. It isn’t the police who are running the show now. If so, I could probably camp out on the school lawn if I wanted to since my dad is the sheriff. No, there are people much higher up running the investigation. The FBI, and I’m guessing some other three-letter government groups that we civilians aren’t even supposed to know about. There are a lot of people in black suits walking around Paradise these days, which I guess makes sense since this is some grade-A Area 51 shit. Once I’d tried to sneak over to the school through the woods that border it, but they’ve got all the surrounding areas lit up with giant floodlights at night. I couldn’t get within a few yards of the edge of the trees or else someone might have seen me.
It would have been a nice time to have that alien girl—Six—and her invisibility powers around.
Today I recognize the cop who’s posted to make sure that no one turns down the street that leads to the school. Todd is only three or four years older than me. He was a big town football star back in the day and always likes to corner me and talk stats and plays when I’m at the station. I hesitate for a second and then decide to try my luck. I want to know what’s going on at the school. Maybe if I can get close enough to see what kind of detective work they’re doing, I can get an idea of how much they do or don’t know. Maybe I can even talk one of them into spilling a few secrets if I don’t see any pale dudes walking around.
I make a loop and come back to the school. As I’m doing so, I take off my letter jacket and toss it into the backseat, shoving my backpack on top of it.
“Hey, man,” I say, pulling up beside Todd. A couple of traffic barrels sit in front of my bumper. “How’s it going?”
“Just freezing my ass off to protect this sacred ground,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets and nodding his head towards the school. I can’t tell if he’s joking about the sacred ground or not because he’s definitely the kind of guy who will be talking about his high school glory days until his dying breath.
“Yeah,” I say, trying my best to sound casual. “What are they doing over there, anyway? I mean, I heard the place is a mess, but Dad says they aren’t telling you much about whether they’re finding anything useful or not.”