Page 32 of Freedom
Jake shrugged, self-conscious and uncomfortable. “Just, I mean, it’s been a while since I was there.”
Toby’s brow wrinkled. “But it was just a couple of years ago, right? You said most kids finish when they’re about eighteen?”
“Yeah, I guess. Seems longer is all. I’ve had bigger things to worry about, you know.”
To Jake’s relief, Tobias let the point go. He was probably a coward for not owning up to his sawed-off education—and it was ridiculous, hiding this from Tobias—but he just didn’t want to admit to being a dropout, not when Toby’s hazel eyes were so big, every iota of attention trained on Jake’s lame descriptions.
“Science, math, history, English, art, PE.” Toby ticked each one off on his fingers almost reverentially, like a catechism to keep close to his heart. That was the same way he treated so many tiny things, like the ingredients for a cheeseburger or the value of each coin. It never failed to twist Jake’s heart, make him want to promise Tobias that it didn’t matter that fucking much, that there were better things to care about—family and duty and, fuck, even trees and books and finding the best pizza in the state. “And they change every year?”
“Yeah, you get algebra, then algebra II, and... trig? And biology and chemistry and physics—and there are electives, like Spanish or woodworking or computers, if you’re in a fancier school.” Jake kind of wanted to crawl into a hole and hide when Tobias just kept listening with rapt attention, eyes shining as though he was talking about a candy store instead of a damn high school. “Look, if you really want to know more, I can get you—I don’t know, some textbooks? Might have some shoved under the seats still. That’s where I found that one back in Boulder. They’re not too hard to dig up if you want to look through some yourself. Way better than me trying to remember that shit.”
“Oh,” Toby breathed, wonder filling the word like the first time Jake had taken him to a library, and that settled it.
The next day they roamed Harrisburg’s streets for bookstores. A place called the Midtown Scholar Bookstore sounded promising, but Jake had no luck finding standard textbooks or anything that really laid out the class schedules and instructions the way Tobias was looking for. Local bookstores weren’t exactly a familiar stomping ground for him, but Jake guessed that the run-of-the-mill textbooks they passed out in schools weren’t really available at your mom-and-pop bookstore. He’d probably have to figure out how to order something from a teacher’s warehouse or, barring that, do some breaking and entering. After all, how much security would they really put on a bunch of textbooks that most kids didn’t want to get anyway?
He had picked up an anthology that stirred up memories of being bored out of his skull in English class, along with an intro to algebra guide, and eventually found Toby kneeling before a shelf of local history textbooks. “Whatcha find, tiger?”
Tobias looked up with a half-apologetic smile. “I was... checking to see if there were more records of attacks on the river, particularly around the dark of the moon. Just to see if there’s anything like that w-waitress described last night.”
Jake leaned against the shelf. “That’s not why we came in here, you know.”
Tobias shrugged one shoulder. “It seemed like—since there are books, we might as well...”
“Nah, I hear you. Good thinking, Toby. We can head to the library next.” Jake hesitated, then held out the books he’d picked out. “Think you’d want these?”
Standing up, Tobias hesitantly skimmed his fingers over the covers, then looked questioningly at Jake. “If they’re—these are what students use? In school?” His voice dropped to a soft whisper, barely audible even where Jake stood and certainly impossible for anyone else to catch.
Jake frowned at the books. “Well, they’re... kinda. I mean, this one might be. I dunno.” He set the books on a nearby pile with a thump and sighed. “I don’t remember enough to say. But you don’t have to settle for them. I’ll find you the real deal.”
They ended up buying the anthology, a book on the history of Pennsylvania, and a notebook. A guy reading with his bandaged foot propped on the counter looked up when they brought up their purchases, then grabbed a crutch to limp to the cash register.
Jake nodded his head toward the guy’s leg and raised an eyebrow. “Kinda early still for Halloween, don’tcha think?”
The man glared. “I’m not wrapped up like a mummy for kicks. I got jumped. There’s a damn wild dog or something by the river, attacking whatever the hell it wants. If I hadn’t been carrying a knife, the thing would’ve taken out my throat.”
Jake’s heart rate jumped. That lined up with what Darla had told them the night before. A quick sideways glance at Tobias showed he was feeling the same excitement. “Whereabouts were you? ’Cause I heard a guy named Burns had a scare like that too. Pretty crazy, these things happening in the middle of the city.”
The man looked no happier. “You’ve been talking toBurns? No wonder your story’s all messed up. I was up by the Susky, same as he was—and if he says differently, you can be sure he’s had a few and can’t even remember his address. I don’t hold with all the stories old folks used to tell, but it was damn strange to see something that big coming at me that time of night. Most wild dogs won’t go after humans, even when it’s dark like that. I wouldn’t have been out there at all, but me and a buddy wanted to check out the deer hunting. Not the best night for it, but my buddy, he ain’t that bright, so one second we’re checking out where there might be ducks in the pitch black, and the next this dog is coming at me. It ran away real fast when I got out my knife, but you can bet it scared the crap out of me. I’m lucky to get nothing but a broken ankle out of it.”
“Your friend get home all right?” Jake asked.
The man rubbed a hand across his mouth, scowled at them and then at the books. “He’s fine. The cops are still looking for him, but he’ll be fine. And your total will be $18.75.”
Jake handed over a twenty. “Keep the change. I hope that leg gets better.”
“Yeah, you and me both.”
Jake turned to go, bag in hand, but Tobias’s hand on his wrist stopped him.
Tobias turned to the man and smiled, tentative yet so fucking brave. “E-excuse me, sir, but w-what kind of knife did you have?”
The man blinked at him and then took down the crutches and hobbled back over to his chair. “It was this one.” He reached into the space behind the counter and took out a dagger.
Even wrapped in a fine leather sheath, Jake could tell the thing was old just by the handle. When the man drew it, he couldn’t stop his eyebrows from shooting up to his hairline. The blade was a smooth line of polished iron, maybe crude steel, with symbols etched all the way down the edge and a wicked point. If Jake had seen that baby in a secondhand shop, he would have picked it up right away because it was the kind of blade that might—judging by the worn edges of the symbols engraved around the edge—have history and the power to take down monsters that iron alone couldn’t.
“This was my grampa’s knife,” the man told Tobias, turning the blade this way and that to catch the light. “I carry it everywhere because he told me it would bring me luck. Not that fucking lucky.”
“You’re still here,” Tobias pointed out shyly. “When did you say that d-dog ran off?”
