“Doing what?”
Perry shrugged again. “Does it matter?”
Dean was silent. Really it didn’t. It was a chance to get out and do something. “Does Mr. Solomon know I’ve been told to stay in my quarters?”
“Probably.” Perry made a show of looking around. “Doesn’t appear to be anybody gonna make sure that’s what you do. So I guess whether you stay or go is mostly up to you.”
A well of resentment opened up in Dean. He’d been more or less abandoned at the school by his dad, even after he’d voiced an objection to coming there. He’d minded most of the bigger rules, his mostly minor infractions more inconsiderate than rebellious. It wasn’t until he’d gone to see Phaedra Lemon that things seemed to come apart.
And Phaedra hadn’t appeared all that angry about his coming to see her.
So he couldn’t understand how Brody had a real bone to pick with him.
“If I get caught, will Mr. Solomon talk to Mr. Brody for me?” Dean asked.
“Fuck that,” Perry said. “None of us are gonna get caught.” He smiled. “We’ll even teach you to be more sly than you were this morning.”
Listening to the other boy made Dean feel better. Maybe something good had come out of getting caught sneaking around after all. Of all the student body, Perry and his group seemed to be the most like Dean. They were fierce, hard, rough and feared throughout the school. They weren’t pampered kids at all.
Used to being a loner, Dean hadn’t tried overly hard to take up with the group. But he wouldn’t have objected to an offer of friendship or interest on their behalf. Mr. Solomon had never before tried to pair any of Perry’s group with him.
“So what’s it gonna be?” Perry asked. “If you don’t want to do it, I gotta ask somebody else.”
“What time am I supposed to be there?” Dean asked.
Perry smiled. “I’ll come get you when it’s time. Mr. Solomon said it’d be after dark, and to try to sleep this afternoon if you could because we’re gonna be out most all night.”
“Okay,” Dean said.
Perry left without another word.
Dean lay back on the bed, excited and scared at the same time, and wondering what Mr. Solomon had in mind. Skulking around in the dark, though, sounded good to him no matter what the excuse. He closed his eyes and, after a time, slept.
Chapter Twenty-Two
A pair of skikes came up out of the water in tandem, breaking the choppy gray surface, and streaked for Ryan. Hoyle had identified the creatures. Ryan moved to the side quickly, his blaster already in his hand. The five-foot wide section of graveled earth that formed a natural berm for the river didn’t give him much room to work with.
The wedge-shaped bodies arced fluidly, bringing the barbed tails around into attack positions. There wasn’t much air current in the cavern to allow the skikes to maneuver gracefully. Once they’d launched themselves from the river, they were more projectiles than fliers.
“Goddamn!” Hoyle shouted. The man went to ground, taking cover behind an outcrop, seizing two stones in his fists.
Ryan brought up the SIG-Sauer and cut loose two rounds at the lead skike. Only one round hit the mutie creature, but it punched through the skike’s chest, blowing its heart and backbone through its dorsal surface.
The skike died with a shrill cry that ululated throughout the cavern. Writhing out its death throes, the creature plopped to the ground in front of Ryan, the barbed tail sticking out into the river.
The second skike hit the cavern wall over Ryan’s head. The mutie creature seemed hardly dazed at all by the sudden impact against the wall. Flexing its sides, it scooted across the gravel, heading back to the river.
“Kill it!” Hoyle yelled. “Kill the bastard thing before it gets the chance to tell the others we’re here! Those shitters hunt in packs.”
Ryan kicked the dead skike out of his way as he pursued the live one. Shrilling now, the skike planed across the shallow water, obviously waiting until it reached a deeper part of the river before diving. Taking deliberate aim, Ryan squeezed the SIG-Sauer’s trigger three times.