Burned Ones

Chapter 24

Annabeth
15 years old.

Things had spiraled out of control the moment Finn lit the match that set Lucky's car ablaze. Maybe they'd already started spiraling before that or it wouldn't have gotten to that point.

Getting to his car was easy enough. Lucky didn't like to park his car on the Casey property. He said it interfered with him coming and going whenever he liked if he had to pass a guard each time he did it. Instead, he parked it right on the outside of the Casey fence. It was in the same spot behind the house every single time he was home. There was a long, paved path that went from the garage to the back gate so that any Casey member coming or going would have two ways to leave. It was a safety measure but apparently not good enough for Lucky.

Finn, Alex, and I left the house, stopped in the garage for supplies, and then avoided the cameras on our trek to the back gate. We climbed over the spot on the fence I'd instructed Finn to use to go undetected and there was Lucky's car, just waiting to be soaked in gasoline.

It was simpler than it should've been. But then, people expected the threat to come from the outside, not inside.

I had thought about running to Cam, right before we poured the gasoline. I had thought about stealing Lucky's car, too.

But we didn't have any clothes or food with us. So I decided when everyone was freaking out over Lucky's car, then we could walk out of the house, steal an unknown car, and head to Cam. No one would notice we were gone until we were out of the city and they'd have no idea which direction to even look in first.

Alex swung the empty gasoline can back and forth in his hand, Finn dropped the match in the car, and I wondered why Lucky told me that about my mom. He'd said he was bored but there was plenty he could do and he hadn't told me until this point. Why now? Why at all?

The three of us took turns showering off the ash and gasoline smell and I had thrown our clothes in the laundry. It didn't take long for people to notice the fire, it lit up the night. Soon enough, the backyard was full of gang members illuminated by the flames behind our fence. More and more people seemed to show up by the minute but that was fine. They were patrolling the fence with a vengeance but they would disperse soon, trying to find who did it and that was our chance.

We went to bed and I swore my hair still smelled like gas.

I woke up a few hours later when there was a loud crash from outside. I remained still, listening for clues as to what was happening but it was silent. Across the room, Alex was wide awake and alert in bed. Neither of us moved to look out the window. Windows were dangerous when you didn't know what you might see or who might see you.

We went back to sleep and when I woke up again, I showered a second time. I shampooed my hair twice, just to be sure.

I worried the entire morning about Lucky and about his knowledge of Max. With my latest burner phone, I sent Max a simple text that consisted of three words: "How are you?"

I meant: Are you alive?

I meant: Are you safe?

I meant: Forget my name.

I hoped that if anyone confronted him and asked him about me, he'd have enough sense to deny knowing me.

Alex had a lollipop in his mouth and didn't bother to take it out as he rambled on to Finn about something, making his words sound mumbled and all of the s-letters in his speech more pronounced.

We were in his bedroom and he was going through his drawers, digging for his favorite clothes before throwing them onto the ground. I was half inside his closet, looking for his duffle bags that we could use. He claimed they weren't in here but I knew they were because I had specifically put them in here. The only trouble was, Alex managed to collect utter nonsense like he was a magnet and everything ended up in his closet. The floor of his closet where I had originally put the bags was hidden with a massive pile of sports gear, dirty clothes, shoes, toys, comic books, more boxing tape than the kid could burn through in ten years, and schoolwork he never turned in or thought to get rid of.