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  Looking back, Danny realized that while Aaron would later be part of his real-life nightmare, he wasn’t the architect of the nightmare. That was someone else.

  The day it happened started out perfectly. It was sunny, warm for Illinois in the fall. There was a half day at school. To top it off, Dad was going to take him to a park that had just installed a new rock wall and bungee swing. Danny wasted no time riding his bike past the crossing guards and down the few short blocks to his home.

  When he saw Steve’s car in the driveway, the air seemed to go out of Danny’s tires, along with his hopes for the day.

  Adult time.

  Disappointed, Danny went around the back of the house to use the sliding door so that he wouldn’t make noise and interrupt their meeting.

  As he opened the door, he realized there was no reason to be quiet. He could hear them yelling at one another.

  “I don’t see why you’re being such a jerk about this!” Steve yelled.

  “Because the guy is guilty!” Dad shouted. “We’ve been watching him for months. I heard some of the phone recordings from less than an hour ago!”

  “So did I and so did the rest of the team!” Steve defended. “And we certainly haven’t heard any proof that he has any connection to terrorists!”

  Dad raged. “What are you talking about? The conversations are perfectly clear. He talks about guns, money, dates, and times. This guy is working with terrorists! There is no question whatsoever!” Suddenly, Dad got quiet. “Unless someone altered the tape …” Dad’s voice got a little louder. “Wait, I’ve got a duplicate of the audio right here.”

  Danny tried to understand the conversation about phone taps, photographic evidence, and weapon sales that followed, but it flew past him. He had never heard yelling and cursing like this in his life and he was scared.

  Danny picked up the phone to call Mom — she’d know what to do. But he hesitated because he remembered the rule: when Steve was here, Danny was supposed to go to his room. He should be upstairs with his door shut — he shouldn’t even be down here. Danny decided that he was just overreacting, and that Dad was just having an argument with Steve. Adults argued sometimes. That’s all there was to it.

  Danny put down the phone.

  His dad yelled, “Then let’s just listen to the rest of it! It’s right there in the audio!”

  Danny could hear a recorded voice, but he couldn’t hear the words.

  “Right there!” his dad roared. “Did you hear that? He’s buying weapons.”

  Steve said something Danny couldn’t hear over the audio.

  There was a pause, and then his dad yelled, “Did he just say your name?”

  Danny turned the phone on again and punched the first few numbers of the bank, since Mom usually turned off her cell at work. But then the voices in the office grew quiet.

  It’s okay now, he told himself. Everything is fine. He hung up the phone.

  He hovered at the office door, trying to hear inside.

  “How could you do it, Steve? How could you betray your own country?” Rick yelled.

  Steve’s voice remained quiet. Danny could only hear him murmur.

  His dad’s voice was still loud and clear. “You’re working for him, aren’t you? You’re selling him weapons and covering it up, aren’t you?”

  Steve murmured.

  “You and who else? Frank? Aaron?” Rick accused.

  Danny couldn’t take it anymore. He picked up the phone and dialed his mom.

  “Can I speak to Eileen Torbert, please?” he asked the person who answered the phone.

  There was suddenly a commotion in Dad’s office. Danny could hear the sounds of tumbling furniture and breaking glass.

  How could he still be on hold? Why hadn’t Mom picked up yet? Phone at his side, Danny ran to the office door and pushed it open.

  Rick and Steve were fighting. Both stopped and stared at the boy.

  Danny’s voice cracked. “Dad? Are you okay?”

  Steve was the first to move. He grabbed the phone at the desk and pressed the talk button. With Danny’s handset on, there was no dial tone. In fact, the muzak from the bank’s hold line was blaring out of the speaker.

  “Who did you call, Danny?” Steve screamed in Danny’s face. He threw the phone against the wall. “Who did you call?” He backhanded Danny across the face, knocking him against the wall.

  As Danny slid to the floor and raised his hands to protect his face, Rick screamed and hurtled the coffee table at Steve. The table exploded across Steve’s chest and sent him flying backward. Rick rushed Steve and punched him, again and again. Steve wrestled free, his face swollen and bloody. Suddenly, he dove toward his briefcase.

  As if in slow motion, Danny watched his father lunge at Steve, to stop him from doing whatever he was doing. But Steve was out of his grasp. Steve turned around, slowly raised his hand, and aimed his gun at Rick. Then he fired. Over, and over, and over again.

  Danny knew he screamed. He opened his mouth so wide, his lips cracked. He felt it tear his throat on the way out, but he couldn’t hear it because of the thunder of Steve’s pistol.

  His father’s limp body crumpled to the floor.

  Danny knew what was next. Still numb from the beating and the sight of his dad’s body, he got to his feet.

  Time returned to normal.

  Steve rolled to his side and fired, but Danny was already out of the office.

  Through the kitchen, around the corner, to the back door. Danny heard an explosion from the gun and something splintering behind him. He yanked the back door open and stepped one foot into the backyard. Then he heard the gun shot and felt something thrust his body through the doorway.

  He felt weightless. Then, he felt nothing.

  Two weeks passed before Danny regained consciousness. And it wasn’t until more than a month later that he could wrap his brain around exactly what had happened.

  His mom told him that the doctors had kept him sedated throughout the surgery, the transfusion, and the first ten days of recovery. Paramedics had revived him at the house. He lost the lower lobe of his right lung and would need months, maybe years, of therapy to regain his strength.

  A couple of weeks later, a tutor came to Danny. He brought make-up work from school and would be Danny’s teacher for the next several months so that he wouldn’t have to repeat sixth grade. Because of his injury, Danny was most interested in the human anatomy lessons from his life science class. He absorbed all he could about the vital parts of the body and what he would need to do to take care of them. Danny later understood that these same vital parts were an enemy’s weak points.

  In physical rehabilitation sessions, Danny had to exercise and lift weights. He hated every minute of it. His body strength was drained. His mental strength wasn’t there at all. He just didn’t care.

  Of all the sessions, he hated group counseling the most. Sitting in a circle. Sharing feelings. It was a little too much like being on Oprah. Get in touch with your feelings; set yourself free. He knew his feelings would not set him free. His feelings would chain him to the bed and never let him see the light of day again. Guilt overwhelmed him — he had waited too long to call his mom. Why had he hesitated? If he had listened to his first instinct and called his mom, the police could have been there in time to save his dad. Instead, he had burst into the room with the phone in his hand. Steve knew that he had called for help, so that’s why he attacked him. His dad only attacked Steve because he had hit his son. Steve shot his dad because his dad attacked him. The entire thing was all Danny’s fault — through his own actions, he had caused his father’s death. And his killer had still not been found by the police.

  No matter how the counselors tried to explain it to him, Danny believed that he was just as guilty as Steve. His father was murdered and there was nothing Danny could do to bring him back.

  Several months into his rehabilitation, Danny was getting into the routine of it all. However, one afternoon as everyone was
leaving their group counseling session, one of the other patients lunged at Danny and tried to stab him. Some orderlies had managed to restrain the patient, whose name was Jorge, while another orderly rushed Danny to a secure room.

  Jorge had only been part of the rehabilitation center for a few days. In the course of their investigation, the police discovered that Steve had sneaked Jorge into the center to kill Danny, who was the only witness to his crime. After a long interrogation session, Jorge told the police where they could find Steve. Steve was then arrested and in police custody within the hour.

  After the incident, Danny was whisked out of the hospital in a minivan to another hospital many hours away. There, his mother and someone named Mr. Lankford from the FBI talked to him in private. Mr. Lankford explained that as a witness to Steve’s crime, Danny was in danger. Also, because both Danny and Eileen could identify Steve’s criminal associates, they were both in danger. Steve wanted them both dead, and he had the power and influence to make that happen, even from behind bars. The FBI wanted the Torberts to testify against Steve in court so that they could put him in jail for a long, long time. Mr. Lankford explained that Danny would have to tell the court about everything he knew and everything he had seen that day. Although Danny knew it would put their lives in even more danger, he could not handle the guilt that weighed like lead on his shoulders. He agreed to testify in court. Mr. Lankford gave the mother and son information about new identities, new lives, and new beginnings. But inside, Danny knew the truth: You can’t hide from yourself.

  The trial was quick. Eileen, Danny, and Mr. Lankford testified. Eileen explained that although Rick’s phone had been broken, Danny’s handset had still been connected and she had heard everything from her desk at work. Danny relived every moment of that horrifying day. Mr. Lankford gave background information on the case, stating that the FBI suspected Steve of terrorist activities. Unfortunately, because there was not enough proof — Steve had destroyed all of the surveillance files that proved his guilt — Steve was only convicted on the charge of murder, and not on the charges of terrorism. Steve was sentenced to life in prison, but he made it very clear that the first chance he got, he would appeal.

  Despite the fact that Steve was behind bars, Danny and Eileen were still not safe. Steve’s associates were still on the outside, and would no doubt try to hunt them down. With Mr. Lankford’s help, Danny and Eileen became Dylan and Nicole in Colorado. Then, they were Zack and Kate in Tennessee. With each new incarnation, there was always a problem, a fluke that put them in jeopardy. No longer trusting anyone, Mom convinced Mr. Lankford to give her computer equipment so that she could generate their identities herself. That way, she would only have to contact him if absolutely necessary. Mr. Lankford gave them the freedom they needed to move in and out of identities, like spirits. He gave them life, even though Danny didn’t feel he deserved it.

  As Danny — now Alex — stared at the article breathlessly in his classroom, he could feel the guilt enveloping his heart and creeping back into his lungs. He knew he had killed Mr. Lankford too.

  CHAPTER 13

  “ALEX,” TIM WHISPEREDas he quickly glanced at the paper. “What’s wrong?”

  History class came back into focus. Alex was standing, and everyone was staring at him. “I, uh … ” He couldn’t form words.

  Thinking fast, Tim interjected, “Mr. O’Neil, Alex is gonna be sick all over the place. Can I get him to the nurse?”

  “Yes, by all means. Alex, are you okay?” The teacher stopped them as they walked by. “I’ll call the nurse and tell her you’re on the way.”

  Safely out of the classroom, Tim shuffled Alex into the closest bathroom. As Alex squatted and put his head between his knees, his friend checked under the stalls.

  “You ready to tell me what’s going on yet, Alex?” Tim waited, but received no answer. “Does this have something to do with the dead cop?”

  Alex didn’t move a muscle. He was trying to make the cold sweat, the fuzzy vision, and the high-pitched squeal in his head go away.

  Tim refused to let Alex off the hook. “I’m your friend. You can talk to me.” He paused for a minute, but still no response. “By your reaction, this guy must have been a relative of yours?” His eyes widened with realization. “Or you’re in some kind of trouble. Is that why you get quiet sometimes and act funny?”

  Alex tilted his head to look at his friend but had to drop it again when the fuzz returned.

  Taking that look as a confirmation, Tim blurted, “What can I do to help?”

  Alex spoke from his tucked position, “Nothing, we’ll be all right.”

  “Nothing? How can you say that? Dude, I’m your friend.”

  “Yeah, and I want to keep it that way. So just stay out of it and don’t mention this to anyone, okay?”

  “Stay out? I’m already in this.”

  “No you’re not. So leave it alone, or you’ll be dead too.”

  Tim was silent.

  “I can’t tell you anything,” Alex said, picking his head up and dropping it back against the bathroom wall. “Not yet anyway ... And really, by the time — ” He cut himself short before he could say anything else and closed his eyes.

  “What?” Tim prodded. “You’ll be gone? Is that what you were going to say? Is that why you guard everything so well? You move every time there’s trouble?”

  Silence.

  “You’ve got to quit running sometime!” Tim was yelling now. “I’d like to think that your friends here mean enough for you to make this your home.”

  Alex locked eyes with Tim. “My friends are important enough that I don’t want them dead.”

  A second later, the door rattled. “Alex? Tim? Are you all right? I’m coming in.” The nurse opened the door to see Alex still crouched on the floor.

  Alex shot Tim a panicked, pleading stare. Please, Tim. Help me.

  “He couldn’t make it down the hall. We came in here to get some water on his face.” Tim’s eyes never left Alex.

  Alex looked up at Tim and knew that he could trust him with anything. Maybe even with his life.

  * * *

  When the phone rang at the pizza shop, Alex’s mom assumed it was another pick-up order. Bonnie yelled, “Sonya, phone’s for you!”

  She almost dumped the broccoli cheese soup in her customer’s lap. What’s wrong? No one knows I’m here, except… Alex! In her mind, a million disasters happened to her son on her way to the phone.

  Bonnie gave a baffled look as she handed her the receiver.

  “Hello? This is Sonya.”

  “Hi. This is Mrs, Layton, the school nurse. I’m afraid Alex is sick. He’s all cold and sweaty — I think he’s been vomiting. Can you come pick him up?”

  “Oh, thank God!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Oh, I mean, yes. I’ll be right there.”

  * * *

  In a small, windowless room lit by fluorescent tubes, a happy computer geek typed away on his computer. The underpaid National Security Agent, whose name tag identified him as Ed, was earning his retirement money early.

  He had first met Frank on the job maybe two years ago. Seemed nice enough. Frank started bringing Ed some side work and paid him with huge sums of cash. A week ago, Frank gave him another assignment: find all contacts associated with Tom Lankford of the FBI. The amount of money promised to Ed was even larger than normal, probably because of the FBI connection, Ed figured. No biggie — hacking was his job and he was good at what he did.

  Ed worked in the world’s largest surveillance center, Echelon, where the United States, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and England worked together to check all emails, faxes, phone calls, and text messages for threatening information. There were certain keywords like “bomb” that were his usual targets, but Ed could change the target words to anything he wanted, like “spaghetti,” “Jessica Simpson,” or “Witness Relocation Program.”

  When one of these keywords popped up, it took Ed little time to tr
ace the message back to the exact computer, phone, or device from which it had come.

  With dollar signs in his eyes, Ed modified the search procedure a little. He started with Lankford’s workstation, followed all incoming and outgoing messages to their servers, and located every workstation on the other end.

  On Wednesday at 11:18 am, while Alex was lying in the nurse’s office, Ed made an unmonitored phone call.

  “Frank, I’ve got the addresses. Now you bring the money.”

  CHAPTER 14

  ALEX REFUSED TOspeak until they were in the car.

  His mother opened her mouth, but Alex beat her to it. “Mom, Mr. Lankford’s dead.”

  “What?”

  “It was in this morning’s paper. They shot him!” he yelled. In the last couple of years, his mother had never known her son to lose control. He always put on an outward show of strength and composure. But now, he was completely freaked out. “They know! We’re in trouble! We have to leave! We — ”

  “Okay. Just a minute. Calm down,” his mom cut in. “How do we know it was Steve?”

  “Because I can feel it.”

  “Okay. First I need to see this newspaper. Let’s see exactly what it says before we go crazy.”

  “Crazy? We’ve relocated for a lot less than this,” Alex insisted. “We need to move.”

  They were silent as they pulled into the driveway of their townhouse. They didn’t speak again until they were safely inside.

  “Okay,” his mom continued once the door was closed. “Just think about this for a minute. Even if they did kill him, he didn’t tell them anything ... He didn’t know anything. The only communication I’ve had with him in the last two years has been through e-mail. And I stopped doing that at least two moves ago. Nobody knows where we are.”

  “Still, our one protector is dead — murdered,” Alex argued, but much quieter than before. “And we’re left waiting for somebody to find us.”