Dead Water Zone - Kenneth Oppel [4]
“You’d better come with me. There’s a place you can stay. One night, no more.”
Paul didn’t want to take his chances alone in Watertown, huddled in some empty shack.
“Yeah, thanks,” he said. After a moment’s hesitation, he added, “I’m Paul Berricker.” He took a step forward, his hand half extended, but when she made no similar move, he let the hand fall to his side, embarrassed.
“Monica Shanks,” the girl said.
As he hefted his red knapsack, she gave a low laugh. “You look like a cartoon.”
Armitage Shanks was almost as skinny as his sister, with the same pale skin and piercing eyes. He wore baggy cotton trousers and a black tank top, beneath which Paul could make out the contours of his rib cage. His bare arms were slender, but they had definition—the small, hard bulge of biceps, low hump of the triceps. His jet-black hair was scraped neatly back from his face into a short ponytail. There was a small tattoo of a schooner on his forearm. Paul imagined him with an eye patch, a belt and cutlass slung around his narrow hips.
“Long way down from Governor’s Hill,” said Armitage, wiping sweat from his forehead. Behind him, four other teenagers unloaded crates from the old cabin cruiser tied up inside the boathouse. “How’d you get across from the docklands?”
“Water taxi.”
Armitage smiled. “How much did you pay?”
Paul chewed at his lower lip sheepishly.
“Fifty. I got ripped off, I suppose, didn’t I?”
“Oh yeah. So, is this a family outing? Should we expect your parents soon?”
The tone was amiable, even playful, but Paul could see the bright spark of suspicion in the other boy’s eyes. All those cardboard crates, stacked up against the walls. He didn’t want to know about it.
“I came alone.”
“He brought a big red knapsack,” said Monica, slouched against the wall. “Like he was planning on staying awhile.”
“Yes, I can see the knapsack,” said Armitage. “It’s a fine knapsack. You can probably fit a lot into a knapsack like that. Lunch box, coloring book, crayons—the works.”
Paul forced a grin. He wished he’d left the damn knapsack at home.
“Do they know you came here, your mommy and daddy?” Armitage inquired with a contemptuous twang.
“No, nobody knows.”
“Good.” Armitage scratched his nose distractedly. “Last thing we need is hysterical suburban parents trying to send half the police force in here to rescue their son. There’s only one other thing that bugs me, Paul,” he confided. “Let me tell you a story. Once, the police tried to set us up. They got some kid, some nobody punk, to come down here and say he needed a place to stay. When we found out what he really wanted, he ended up swimming back to the docklands.”
Paul shrugged, meeting Armitage’s gaze evenly. “That’s not why I came,” he said. He turned to Monica. “Look, forget it. I didn’t think it was going to be such a big hassle. I’ll just take my knapsack and—”
“Hey, Paul, come on!” Armitage said with a disarming smile. “We’re just giving you a hard time. I was getting to know you. I’m in a trusting mood tonight.” He opened his arms magnanimously. “Don’t you trust him, Monica?”
She shrugged, noncommittal. “I said he could stay one night.”
“See, we both trust you, Paul.”
Paul couldn’t help smiling. They trusted him. Great. They were probably the most untrustworthy people he’d ever met.
“I’m happy to have you stay with us,” Armitage said warmly. Paul expected him to throw an arm around his shoulder at any moment. “So, this brother of yours, he didn’t show, huh?”
“He said he’d meet me. I don’t know what happened.”
They’d arranged the time, the place; so why hadn’t Sam been there? What had stopped him?
“What’d he do, run away from home?”
“Yes,” Paul lied. He wanted to tell them as little as possible. “I think he came down three or four weeks ago. I’m not sure.”
“What’s his name?” Monica asked.
“Samuel Berricker. Sam.”
Armitage narrowed his eyes, as if thinking hard, but shook his head. “Haven’t heard of him.”
“A lot of people live here without showing themselves,” said Monica. “You can still be invisible in Watertown.”
“Look,” said Paul, “I’ve got a