Chapter 21

"What time was Reid born?" The three Sons looked at each other.

"Um…"

"That was helpful, Tyler, thank you," Caleb said distractedly. "Well, I know he was born in the morning. Early." They were sitting in Tyler's truck, idling in front of the house where Mary was keeping the fourth member of the Covenant. Kat glanced at the digital clock in the dashboard.

"It's 8:30 now. That gives us a few hours before midnight. Define 'early'."

"Shit. I don't know. We'll have to find his birth certificate."

"Couldn't we just ask his mother?" Caleb sucked in a breath, and Tyler looked away from Kat.

"We could try," he offered. Kat gave him a 'well, duh' look, and nodded towards the steering wheel.

"So let's go."

"Do you want to call your dad? He was pretty freaked out when you went missing." Pogue handed her his phone from the front passenger side seat, and Kat dialed quickly as Tyler pulled away from the curb.

"Hello?" At the timber of his voice, Kat felt an unexpected rush of purely childish relief: Daddy was here, and he would… Well, no, he really wouldn't make everything okay. Still, she was smiling despite herself as she answered.

"Dad, it's me. Kat." There was an instant where she could have sworn she heard his heart stop over the phone, and then he was speaking so loudly that she had to pull the phone away from her ear.

"Kat? Are you all right? Where are you? What happened? Where the hell have you been?"

"Dad, I'm okay." Sort of. "I can't explain what's going on right now, but I'm all right. I'm with friends, and I'm safe."

"What do you mean you can't explain? Do you have any idea how scared I was?" She let out a little laugh, purely unintentionally.

"I have a pretty good idea, Dad." He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was softer.

"Are you sure you're alright? Not hurt in any way? Where have you been? Did someone… did they…"

"I'm… I'm not hurt." The new scar could be explained later. "Don't worry. I have to do something, and I can't tell you what's going on, but I promise I'll be careful. I'll be home tomorrow." And if I'm not, then I'm afraid I won't be coming home at all. But she couldn't say that.

"Please, Kitty," her father said quietly, a strange desperation in his tone. "Tell me what's happening. You've never lied to me before." She swallowed, heart pounding.

"Daddy," Kat whispered into Pogue's cell phone, "I've lied to you all my life. I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I love you."

"Kat! Kat, don't you dare hang up on me!"

"Bye, Daddy." And she closed the phone, handing it back to its owner with a steady hand. "How far to Reid's house?"

"A few more minutes," Caleb said into the silence, reading her expression. No more mention would be made of her father. "We'll just have to hope she's there." Kat noticed the bitter twist he gave to the word 'she', and oddly enough, felt happy because of it: Caleb felt Reid's pain, no matter how much he tried to hide it. They all did. They, too, were Reid's pack… and that was something she could understand. It bound her to them even tighter, and that was a good thing now.

"She will be," Kat said firmly.

"Then we'll have to hope she's not drunk or doped. And that she'll help us in the first place." This time, it was Tyler who replied.

"Oh, she will," he said. "She'll help."

In that moment, Kat thought, Tyler actually sounded dangerous.

They pulled into the loop of driveway that curved in front of the large house that Kat had been inside once before, gravel crunching as the tires spun to a halt. Caleb, Tyler, Pogue, Sarah and Kate spilled out of the car and followed Kat as she strode up to the front door, dressed in the jacket and a pair of old gym shorts that Tyler'd found wedged behind his seat cushion. (She'd thought it better not to ask.)

Kat didn't bother ringing the doorbell; from what she knew of Reid's mother, no one would answer. Stepping through the door, she looked around. The hallway was dim and deserted, and she could almost feel the house breath its stillness.

"Hello? Mrs. Garwin?"

"Mrs. Garwin," Sarah called from behind her.

"Hello?"

"What are you doing in my house?!" The voice came out of nowhere, startling everyone into yelps and jerks. Kat's attention swung to a doorway off to the right, through which she could vaguely make out a stairwell. A woman stood in the doorway, a sheer black bathrobe wrapped around her thin frame. Her long, white-blond hair sheeted down her back in perfect waves, but her face was hollowed and angular, the skin pale to the point of looking almost yellow. Her eyes were sunken in their sockets, the blue color glazed slightly by years and abuse. She stared at the teenagers with a look of angry, twisted suspicion mixed with a sort of trapped fear. Looking at her, Kat felt a visceral jolt of pity for any son growing up with this creature for a mother.

"We're Reid's friends," Pogue said calmly. "Remember me, Mrs. Garwin? It's Caleb and Tyler and Pogue. This is Kate, Sarah and Kat." The woman- Reid's mother- tilted her head to the side and back in a gesture so painfully familiar that it actually took Kat a second to recognize it: it was Reid's head-tilt. Somehow, seeing that blatant connection between the vibrant, attitude-filled teen she knew and this washed-out, wasted wreck of a woman struck Kat as the saddest thing of all.

"Reid's friends? No. Reid doesn't have friends," she said, sounding fretful. Caleb stepped forward and reached out his hand, but she flinched back.

"Yes, he does," he said instead, oh-so-gently. "And we're just trying to help him. We need to know what time he was born, Mrs. Garwin. Can you tell us that?"

"Tell you that? Why should I tell you that?" The harried, childlike tone was gone, replaced by anger and, again, that awful nervousness. "I've never seen you people before. What are you doing here? Did Reid tell you to come over and bother me? Is he punishing me? I'll set him straight," she continued, folding her arms and shaking her head. Her long, beautiful hair swung across her ruined face. "That boy. So ungrateful. Stupid, ungrateful son of mine; just like his father. I should have never-" That was when Kat took two steps forward, reached out, and slapped her across the face.

Reid's mother fell silent at once, her mouth open in shock. Kat took advantage of the silence.

"You have no idea who your son is," she hissed.

"Kat-"

"Shut up, Caleb." Returning her attention to the woman in front of her, Kat curled her lip. "He saved my life tonight. Your stupid, ungrateful son gave himself up to save me. So don't you say another fucking word about him." Reid's mother frowned spitefully, and drew herself up.

"Sure. He acts. They all act. His father acted, too. He acted like a pro, girl, like a pro." Her words dripped venom. "Don't let it fool you."

"He likes to sing." Both Kat and Mrs. Garwin broke their staring contest to swing the full brunt of their glares at Tyler, who for once did not back down. "Reid, I mean. Heavy metal, rock, mostly, but some jazz too. He tells knock-knock jokes when he's trying to cheer you up. He can whittle. His favorite food is sushi, but he hates cooked fish. Did you know any of that, Mrs. Garwin?" Before she had a chance to answer, Tyler continued. Kat and the others were watching him with unconcealed awe as he spoke in a low, steady, confidant voice that seemed to rest on the air like a cloud. "I know it because he's my best friend. He's been there for me since we were kids. He's beaten me up a few times, and he's beaten people up for me a few times, and he's let me hit him around a few times, too. Did you know that, either?"

"I want you out of my house," the woman replied in a soft, shaky voice. "Now." But Tyler wasn't going anywhere.

"He hates school, but he loves to read. Lots of Stephen King and Dean Koontz, but he likes Tolkien and he's at least read one of Pullman's books."

"Stop." Relentlessly, Tyler spoke on.

"His favorite movie is The Fast and the Furious, and he likes the Pirates of the Caribbean ones, too. Anything with action and humor. He can be the most annoying guy you'll ever meet, and he can be a real bastard, too, but he's also a great friend and a good guy to have at your back. Loyal. Smart."

"That boy is a lazy, good-for-nothing, neglectful-"

"Neglect? Neglect?!" Now it was Caleb who spoke, and the calm, gentle tone from before was wiped away. Cold fury lit his gaze. "Do you know what it's like to be twelve years old and to get a phone call at three AM and find out that the guy you consider a brother is home alone, again, and has been for two weeks, and he's really hungry but there's no food whatsoever because the last time someone went shopping was half a month ago? What about getting a call asking for a ride to the doctor because he's been throwing up for three days now but no one's been home? What about giving him a ride home and coming in for something to drink and having to stay downstairs the whole time because someone's reeling around the top floor with a nameless drunk in tow, screaming about how worthless her son is while she fucks a man that'll later come down and knock her kid around a little because he's hungover and bored? Ever experienced any of that, Mrs. Garwin?" This time, Reid's mother could not seem to find anything to say. Her yellowed, sunken face was shadowed by her hair, and Kat could not make out her expression.

"We don't have time for this," Kat said finally. "At this point, I really don't give a damn what you think of Reid. You're not worth it, not to me, and not to him. We need to know what time he was born, and we need to know now. I'd suggest you tell us."

"What do you care, anyway," she asked sullenly, her voice returning to that of a sulky, spoiled child. Kat, being the closest, reached out and took Reid's mother by the chin. She tilted the woman's head up, and looked into her faded blue eyes.

"Because I love him," she said simply. "And so do they. And if you don't help us now, so help me God I will do something I might not regret." She let go of the woman's chin and stepped back, feeling the warmth of Sarah's hand on her arm.

"His birth certificate's in the office. Down the hall to your left. It's filed. Get it and get out."

"We're trying to save your son," Kate said gently, trying to break the ice that seemed to surround the blond woman.

"You've all proved that I don't know him at all," she said, and in her voice was a mixture of wistfulness, regret, anger and, dominating over the rest, that same sullen stubbornness. It was a mix that Kat found vaguely repulsive, and somewhat pathetic. "So why don't you take him? I never wanted him to begin with. He's no son of mine, not really."

"Do you feel anything for him? Don't you love him, at least a little?" Sarah sounded pleading. Kat understood the desire to force this cold woman to care, at least a bit, but she also understood the futility of that desire. Mrs. Garwin was way too far gone by now.

"Get the certificate," Mrs. Garwin said, turning to leave, "and get the hell out of my house."

She did not answer Sarah's question, and before the girl could call out again, she had vanished into the shadows of her own self-constructed prison. The remaining Sons and the girls looked at each other, expressions mirroring: a sort of grim forlornness; a resigned pity. Then, Pogue clapped his hands. The sound was deafening, it seemed.

"Let's go find that birth certificate."