He wanted to pound his fist into the wall so hard that it bled.
Comatose? Now?
The officers turned toward them.
Ray gulped. His dad wasn't there yet.
"Kidnapping and Attempted Murder are very serious crimes, boy." The short one with a whisker-like moustache said.
"What!" Kirby exclaimed.
"Then, tell us exactly what happened. Leave nothing out."
Kirby started talking. He even went as far as telling them about the shard Ray had been looking for.
Ray noticed the taller one's eyes darken at the mention of the shard. His gaze drifted down to the medals on his uniform. They were different from the one the officer who had attended to the case at Mrs. Tolen's house wore.
The man followed his gaze.
"Like 'em? Well, you can see more of it at the station."
Both boys stepped back.
"My dad is on his way. Just wait a few more minutes."
A harsh laugh escaped the two men.
"Who's your dad? The president? Justice waits for no man."
Ray bit back his retort. This was totally unfair - Sarah needed them.
"We didn't hurt her!" Kirby argued.
Another scrape of laughter - if it could even be called one.
"Cuff him."
Ray winced as the cold metal was clasped around his wrists.
They were dragged out, their dignities evaporating with each step.
His gaze flicked briefly to the nurse. A crooked grin rested on her messy lips. She was leaning her cheek on her palm and staring with a satisfied expression.
That's when he saw it - there were two grey marks on her hand.
His stomach sank. Ray turned to the arm of the officer leading him. He had a grey mark as well.
Kirby's head was bowed, like that of a lamb being led to the slaughter.
"Kirby."
Kirby glanced up.
He pointed at the man's hands. Kirby didn't understand his meaning. He must have not noticed the marks that appeared on the arms of both his mother's and Jory's Reflections.
The hospital doors swooshed closed and the cool night air swept over them. The gas station across the road was still active.
He knew they were in trouble, although he wasn't thoroughly certain. His fingers clenched and unclenched in a nervous rhythm.
The door of the police vehicle swung open and Kirby was thrown in first. He followed suit.
The car smelled like mint chewing gum and soda.
He wrinkled his nose.
"What would we do now?" Kirby asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
His shoulders sagged.
"I don't know." Then he leaned closer. "I don't think these men are real cops."
"What makes you say that?"
Ray looked out the window. The taller of the two officers was on the phone a good distance from the car. The other one kept glancing around the premises with a hand on the gun in his holster.
"Those marks…"
"What marks? Ray, chill. You're starting to lose it. We just have to endure one night in the cell, okay? Our parents would bail us out if it gets to that. Stop going that far."
He leaned back against the chair. What if he was wrong?
But then again, the marks on their arms could not be denied.
The officers entered the car and slammed their doors.
With a glance at us through the rearview mirror, the car started rolling.
Ray kept glancing out the window. He didn't want to talk to Kirby. Part of him hoped he'd be right, just so he could prove a point, while the other part of him prayed Kirby was right - his assumption was less dangerous.
The police building was a few blocks away from their school, he was sure of that. But, the so-called officers took the highway.
They weren't going to the precinct, were they?
The man caught his gaze through the mirror and grinned.
"Where are you taking us?"
Both men chuckled.
"You'll see soon enough."
Kirby's gaze snapped to mine. Perspiration beaded on his forehead. He had begun to realize that I was right.
"We have to get out of this car, Ray."
Ray glanced at the doors. They were locked. The windows were too foggy to see through.
The shorter one in the passenger's seat turned to face them.
"You boys are too smart for your own good, aren't you? Let me make it easier for you." Both men placed clothes over their noses as he sprayed a chemical into the air.
Ray's vision began to blur. The streetlights that strained into the car blinded him. His head pounded - like someone was bringing a jackhammer down on it.
Even his movements slurred. A glance at Kirby showed that he had already been taken out by the gas.
"Mom…" He breathed as he collapsed on the chair.
—
His eyes snapped open. Everywhere was dark. Ray tried lifting his head. Light seeped in from the ends of the fabric that had been slung over his face.
He was seated - he could feel the hard planes of the chair pressing into his back. His hands were tied at the back of the chair.
There was a grunt beside him.
Kirby?
Footsteps echoed. The sound of shoes scuffing against the floor made him shudder. He wriggled against his restraints but to no avail.
"Don't do that, boy. You'll only succeed in bruising your wrists." A calm voice said.
His head jerked up.
"Who are you and what do you want with us?"
A chair scraped along the ground until it rested just in front of him.
He could hear the faint creak as the man settled down on the chair.
The room smelled musty, but mostly like cologne - probably the man's.
"You have something that belongs to us. Hand it over and get your life back."
The cloth over his head was roughly snatched off.
The man before him was dressed in an impeccable grey suit.
"I'd know if I had something of yours." Ray said, looking the man in the eyes.
"Not mine. What you took belongs to the Glass Order."