Cipher

Chapter Eighteen

Troy walked up beside Summer and stuck his surfboard in the sand. Water dripped from his hair and eyelashes. “You’re doing pretty good out there, Sunshine.”

Summer tipped her head forward and wrung the water out of her hair. “I feel like I got worked over. You and Ashlyn caught tons of waves, and all I did was flail around in the water. I think I’m actually getting worse. I kinda thought if I could replace dancing with surfing, I could quit the dance team.”

“Things still that bad?”

“Nothing I can’t handle. But let’s just say they’re far from pleasant.”

Ashlyn walked over to them, surfboard tucked under her arm. “So, my house is the closest, but my mother only makes egg white omelets.”

Troy jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a breakfast place on the corner that’s really good. It’s cheap, tastes good, and even better, they give you tons of food. I say we go there.”

They secured their surfboards on Ashlyn’s car and slipped T-shirts and shorts over the top of their wet swimsuits. The day had hit eighty degrees—warm for mid-October, and perfect for playing in the ocean.

As they made their way down the boardwalk, Summer drifted left. There was a large crowd in that direction, but it was like her feet didn’t belong to her anymore. This was the only direction she could possibly go. She scanned faces as they parted around her, trying to figure out who or what was compelling her. As she came out of the larger group, there was a dark-haired man who refused to move one way or the other, simply striding toward her. Sure he was going to plow into her, Summer started to move to the side. The man stepped directly in front of her. She moved the other way at the same time he did.

They stood in limbo for a minute before he reached out and gripped her shoulder. “Choose a way already.”

“Get out of my house!” a gray-haired lady shouts.

The man turns, arms loaded with electronics. The outline of a gun is visible under his shirt, where it’s tucked into his pants. He drops the items to reach for his weapon. The lady already has a gun in her hand. She whips it up and fires, once. Twice. The impact sends him back into the counter. He slides down to the floor, leaving a bloody trail as he gasps for air.

Blood pools around his body, his limp arms flop to the floor, and a wet, strangled noise escapes his mouth.

Then he stops breathing altogether.

“Back off,” Troy said, pushing his way between Summer and the man.

He turned his angry gaze on Troy. “You kids need to get out of my way.”

Paralyzed by what she’d seen, Summer couldn’t do anything but stare for a moment. Her gaze drifted to the place she’d seen the gun. There, underneath the man’s shirt, was the outline of the weapon. Summer grabbed Troy’s arm. “Just let it go.” Her voice came out so shaky, she was worried Troy didn’t hear.

The man glared at her for a second. Then he pushed past her and Troy and charged down the sidewalk.

“You okay?” Troy asked, two creases forming between his eyebrows. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Almost. He’ll be a ghost soon.

Ashlyn stopped in front of her. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Summer shook her head. Two in a matter of weeks? Most of the time she went months between occurrences. And while Gabriella scolded her for trying to save the guy she bumped into in North Park, Summer didn’t want to warn the man she’d just encountered. She wanted him to get what was coming to him. Still, she worried she should call the cops to make sure the elderly lady was okay.

What would I say, though? I think there’s going to be a break-in somewhere near the beach. Get the bad guy so the old woman doesn’t have to. Feeling like she might vomit, Summer folded over, squeezing her eyes closed. The world was still spinning, so she dropped to her knees.

Troy and Ashlyn crouched down next to her.

Troy cupped her cheek, his hand warm against her skin. “Tell me what you need.”

Where to even begin? She needed the world to stop spinning. To not see people die. To not know that Ashlyn was going to. Summer took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I think I just need some food. I’m hungry, and it’s making me light headed.” She forced herself to her feet. “How far is this place?”

Troy put his arm around her waist to steady her and pointed to the blue building on the corner. “It’s right there.”

Summer was almost sure she could make it.

“Hey listen to this,” Dad said, calling Summer into the living room. “This guy tried to rob a little old lady, but she shot him when he reached for his gun. They think he’s been responsible for several break-ins down in the PB area.”

It was too big of a coincidence to be just that.

Summer sat on the couch and Dad un-paused the television.

“A man was shot today when he tried to rob an elderly resident,” the news anchor said, and the footage cut to one of their reporters. He held his microphone up to the gray-haired woman from Summer’s vision, and ice spread through Summer’s veins.

“I heard something downstairs,” the woman said. “So I called 911 and got my gun. When I saw the man reach for his weapon, I fired.”

“That’s one tough lady,” the anchor commented when they cut back to him. “Cops arrived on the scene and took the body away. No charges will be pressed against the woman for defending herself…”

“That’s crazy, huh?” Dad said, turning the volume down a couple of clicks. “Maybe more criminals will think twice before they go take whatever they want now.”

“Yeah crazy,” Summer said, unable to take her eyes off the screen. He deserved it, she told herself over and over, trying to convince herself she’d done the right thing. A shudder went through her body. A cold so cold it burned, took hold of her insides. You’d think she’d be used to it by now. How do you get used to death, though? To seeing it happen before it really happens?

The answer was simple.

You don’t.