him. “What if I go with her and die?”
I felt like the spectator for the most alarming argument ever. “That is a very real danger,” I said. “People do tend to die around me.” This was all happening very fast. Augustus had been extremely helpful in the van explosion, but I was under no illusions about my ability to retain people close to me. They either died—like Zack, Breandan, my mother; they left—like Dr. Zollers, Scott, Kat; or they flat-out turned their backs on me and walked away—like Senator Foreman.
Or like Reed was going to.
“What if he could help you?” Momma asked. “What if he could save your life again?”
“Oh, so you believe me about that, now, too?” Augustus asked, still looking pointedly at his mother.
“Momma, this is dangerous,” Taneshia said quietly. Thank the heavens, a voice of reason.
“Life’s dangerous,” Momma replied sharply. “Nobody gets out alive, last I checked.” She turned her gaze toward Augustus. “All I hear you say when you talk about your future is how you’re going to ‘be somebody,’ like that means something at all in and of itself. I been telling you—your father told you—told you and Jamal both that you need to ‘be somebody’ someday. But you left off the last part of what we told you—that you need to be somebody you can be proud of. Somebody to be counted. Somebody who stands up for what’s right.” She looked at me. “We see a lot of things in the neighborhood. Some wrong things sometimes, but we live here. We love here. This is our home. You come here and you tell me someone’s killing people with lightning? Burying bodies in people’s yards?” She leaned forward on her couch. “Can my son help you find this person? With his powers?”
My mouth fell open and an answer came tumbling out. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Then he should help you,” she said and straightened up, like it was settled. Then she looked at him. “Provided it doesn’t interfere with his work.”
I found myself looking at him as he looked at me. “What do you do?” I asked helplessly, strangely reminded of my mother, but in a less threatening way.
“I’m a—” Augustus started.
“He’s in management at Cavanagh Technologies,” Momma said proudly. She launched into a description that I suspected had been repeated many, many times before, and I listened and nodded along, sparing only a look for Augustus, who seemed only slightly less embarrassed than he was proud at hearing her talk about him in such glowing terms.
12.
Augustus
“So how’s this going to work?” I asked her as I walked Sienna Nealon to the door. My mother had talked her ear off about how great I was for, like, thirty minutes. To her credit, she only looked glazed over during the last five, and it hadn’t exactly been thrilling stuff compared to a murder case involving a lightning-throwing person.
“You got a job, right?” she asked. I was almost used to her bloodied blouse by now. Almost.
Nope. Still weird. Who walks around in bloody clothes all the time?
“Yeah,” I said. “Six to two tomorrow. I mean, I could call in—”
“Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “Go to work, meet me when you’re done.”
“Okay. You got like a cell phone number I can call you on?”
“I—” she fumbled in her pocket and came out with an iPhone. “Looks like I still do, yeah.” She punched a button and summoned up her own contact, complete with phone number, which I dutifully snapped a picture of with mine for later. “Clever,” she said.
“Time saver and all that,” I said. “So am I like … your partner on this?”
She gave me a very guarded look. I got the feeling she wore it a lot. “Let’s call it an apprenticeship, since your mom kind of … talked me into it, and I don’t really have any backup at this point.” She dropped her voice to a level so low it was like she smashed through the floor for whisper and kept going. I was amazed I could
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