When she got halfway, something bright flew, blinding her. The light swung away. “It’s me,” Charlie loud-whispered. Then he cupped the flashlight under his chin. It made him look scary.
A lump expanded in Julia’s throat. His presence made this real. He came over, stood close. Offered his hand. She took it. Then he swung the light to his left, illuminating Dave Harrison and the sinkhole behind. Dave looked like always, only more so: angry and frustrated and vibrant. He’d been a good match for Shelly.
They were closer to the hole than she’d thought. It had grown too gaping for a giant wood cover, and parts were exposed. She could see bright things atop the pitch. These were tools for the excavation, but in the glow they looked like bones.
In the quiet, more human sounds. Charlie shined his light on four more kids standing along the half-lit dark: Mark and Michael Ottomanelli, Lainee Hestia, Sam Singh, and even little Ella Schroeder. Pinched face and light brown hair, she wore all black like a widow.
“You told them?” Julia asked, letting go of his hand.
“They want to help,” Charlie said.
“They can’t help. They suck!” Julia hissed.
“Your dad had a gun!” Lainee Hestia cried. Lainee was in pajamas that said MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU, and the shirt and shorts were raining pink stormtrooper heads.
“Fuck you! You stup—”
“We took it back. We said it’s not true,” Michael Ottomanelli, the mean twin who’d once said she had food line feet, interrupted. “We all did. We took it back.”
“You took it back? Your dad was beating on my dad! He broke his jaw. My brother’s got a concussion!”
“It’s not our fault,” Lainee said. “You can’t blame us for stuff we got tricked into saying.”
“Let us help, Julia,” Sam said.
“Go home,” Julia answered.
“I’m sorry,” Mark Ottomanelli said. He was crying. “I tried to tell my parents. They didn’t listen.”
“Go home,” Julia said.
Then everybody was talking over everybody else. Lots of words Julia didn’t care to hear. Words of regret and conviction and justification. Words of wounded pride and childish words. Words and words. At last, she covered her ears until they stopped. “This doesn’t belong to you. I’m going down there to prove my dad didn’t do it. When I bring her back, you’ll be the ones who go to jail because you lied and I’ll be the one who laughs.”
Pinched, tattletale Ella Schroeder spoke for the first time. “It doesn’t belong to you, either.”
Julia had no answer to that.
Mark cried harder. Sobbing and slurping. Then Michael started in.
“They’re sorry,” Charlie said. “Let them help.”
Julia looked away, so she didn’t change her mind and feel sorry for them.
“She’s my sister,” Ella said.
“Yeah,” Julia let out.
“Was,” Ella added.
“We don’t know that.” Even as Julia whispered it, she knew it was wishful thinking.
“We were all friends with her. Even before you came, Julia,” Lainee said.
Julia tried to keep it together, but now she was crying, too. “If somebody gets hurt you’ll blame me. You’re just here to get me in trouble. Then your parents’ll stomp on my face, too.”
“I don’t tell anymore,” Ella said. “I’m here for my sister.”
Mark was still blubbering. Everybody stood close. By flashlights and cell phone lights, she could see their intense faces, assembled in a semicircle. She wanted to hate them.
“We’re not our parents,” Dave said. “Neither was Shelly. We need to do this together. The Rat Pack.”
She looked from one kid to the next. She didn’t forgive them. She didn’t think she could trust them. But how could she stop them? “Fine,” she said.
They went to the edge, the place from which they’d seen the rescue crew descend. Dave bent down first. Then the rest. Somber as pallbearers, they lifted the slab’s edges and wrenched up stakes. Chemical candy apple wafted as they eased the giant thing to the side, leaving a small opening through which to squeeze. Inside the deep hole, the ladder rungs disappeared into nothing. They’d heard and read that hydraulic shoring went down to the bottom. Beyond that was the small, metal tunnel that narrowed into something impassable, at least for an adult.
Julia looked each of them over: Charlie, Dave, Ella, Lainee, Mark, Michael, and Sam. All earnest. All here to right a thing that had gone so very wrong. None of them remotely resembling their parents.