The Fall of Five (I Am Number Four) Read online

  We all turn to stare at him. “The Xitharis stone, you mean?” Six asks.

  “Yeah,” Five says. “That. I kind of, uh, dropped it.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “WOW, JOHNNY. I SEND YOU OUT FOR REINFORCEMENTS and you come back with an old man, a nerd and this little hobbit guy. Great job.”

  Nine is there to sarcastically greet our group as soon as we enter the foyer of his ridiculous Chicago penthouse. So, my first impression of him during our brief meeting in West Virginia wasn’t off after all. He really is a douche bag.

  We’re back later than anyone thought we would be. We searched for the Xitharis stone, but it was gone and we couldn’t stick around any longer than necessary. And while no one seems very happy about it, it’s like they’re trying not to blame Five for losing it. For now, at least.

  After it was clear it was gone, after Five had apologized for the hundredth time, Six just tossed her hair and shrugged. “It’s a rock,” she said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself. “A powerful rock, but we’re pretty powerful on our own.”

  Still, it’s clear that it hasn’t endeared Five to anyone. Especially Nine.

  “Be nice,” Sarah warns him. Clearly the others have gotten used to his not-so-witty banter. By the way he and John slap hands in greeting, I’d say they’ve even become friends. Five, though, seems wounded. Next to me, he subtly tries to suck in his belly. “Hobbit guy,” he repeats, under his breath.

  “It’s from a book,” I start to explain, but he cuts me off.

  “I get the reference,” Five says. “It isn’t very nice.”

  “That’s Nine,” says John, overhearing. “He’ll grow on you. Or, well, you’ll get used to him.”

  Five gives me a deadpan look like he doubts it and I can’t help smiling in return. I think we’re both feeling a bit like outsiders in this penthouse. Six tried to catch me up the best she could on the ride back, but there are a lot of new faces and stories here in Chicago, not to mention the most surreal hideout in history. I still can’t believe the Garde are living in a place like this. It’s the kind of lavish pad they used to tour on that MTV show, the one about rich celebrities and their jealousy-inducing lifestyles. How Nine and his Cêpan managed to put together a place like this and keep it off the Mogadorian radar to boot is pretty impressive.

  John introduces everyone to Nine, who has stopped cracking lame jokes long enough to meet Five and my dad.

  “And you remember Sam, right?” John finishes.

  “Obviously,” Nine says, striding forward to shake my hand. His grip is rough and he towers over me so that I have to crane my neck up. He lowers his voice, not wanting the others to hear. “Seriously, bro, sorry about leaving you in the cave. That was sort of my fault.”

  “It’s cool,” I reply, a bit taken aback by the apology.

  Nine turns my hand over before letting me go, noticing the fresh pink scars on my wrists. “So they put you through it, huh?” he asks solemnly. By his tone it’s like he’s just realizing we have something in common. I guess I’ve joined the secret fraternity of Mogadorian torture victims.

  I don’t know what to say. I just nod my head.

  “You made it out,” Nine says, patting me hard on the shoulder. “Good for you, bro.”

  John starts to lead us by Nine, who’s basically been standing right in our way. He sort of reminds me of one of those big dogs that jump all over visitors as soon as they come in the door. When he finally steps aside, I notice the three other Garde that Six told us about—Seven, Eight and the younger Ten. They’re waiting where the living room starts, a little more patient than Nine, at least letting us get inside.

  “If you’re wondering what the horrible smell is, it’s the vegetarian food Marina’s cooking for dinner,” says Nine.

  “Hey,” the dark-haired Seven—Marina—replies good-naturedly. “It’ll be good, I promise.”

  “Dinner,” Nine snorts, “whatever. Who cares? We’ve got the whole team together! They’re pudgier and dorkier than expected, but I’m cool with it. Let’s go blow some shit up.”

  “You need to calm down, dude. We’ve been driving for like twelve hours,” Six tells Nine, shoving a bag of equipment into his chest. “Here. Make yourself useful.”

  Sarah quickly follows suit, tossing her bag to Nine. Before long, he’s shouldering pretty much all the stuff we carried up from the cars.

  “Fine, I’ll put this stuff away,” Nine says as he agreeably lumbers off to put away our gear. “But then we’re gonna at least talk about kicking some ass.”

  I notice Five staring down Nine as he leaves the room. Then, he turns to John.

  “We’re not really going to fight again right away, are we?”

  John shakes his head. “Nine’s just excited. Getting together was a huge first step. Now we need to figure out what to do next.”

  “I see,” says Five, gazing down at his hands. “I guess I’ve never viewed violence as something to get excited about.”

  “We’re not all like Nine,” Marina says apologetically as she steps forward. She greets us warmly, even pulling Five into a hug, which I think both surprises him and loosens him up a bit. She definitely puts me more at ease after Nine’s brusque display.

  Eight introduces himself next. I get a real easygoing vibe from him, a nice change of pace from the alpha-male routine Nine pulled as soon as we showed up. Still, I can tell he’s just as excited as Nine was, he’s just more tactful.

  “I’ve got so many questions for you. All of you,” Eight says. “Five, I’m dying to know where you’ve been, to hear about everything that’s happened to you.”

  “Uh,” grunts Five. “Okay.”

  “I’m sure you’ve overcome a lot to be here,” Eight continues encouragingly.

  “The grunting is all John and I could get out of him in the car,” Sarah whispers to me.

  I can understand feeling a bit overwhelmed in this situation; you meet the last living remnants of your people for the first time and it turns out they’ve already been hanging out a bunch. In a way, it’s nice to have Five with me, even though we’re not talking much either; it’s good to have someone equally awkward along in these social situations.

  “You were living in Jamaica before, right?” Eight asks Five.

  “That’s right,” Five replies. “For a little while, anyway.”

  Eight looks like he’s expecting Five to elaborate. When he doesn’t, John jumps in.

  “It was a long ride back and I think everyone is a little tired. Maybe we can share stories at dinner,” John suggests.

  Eight nods and doesn’t press Five for any more details. I get that John is trying to handle Five with kid gloves, letting him acclimate to the others at his own speed. I am a little surprised Five isn’t asking more questions about the others, but part of that seems to be a reluctance to answer any questions about his own past. Judging by the fact that he showed up without a Cêpan or a Chest, I’m sure it’s the kind of grim backstory all these Garde have.

  With Eight done trying to wring information from Five, the last of the new Garde is able to step forward and introduce herself. Even though Six told me she’d be younger, I’m still surprised at how small Ella is in person. I can’t imagine this girl stepping up to oppose Setrákus Ra, much less somehow being the key to scaring him off, but that’s the way Six said it went. I’m impressed.

  “I didn’t know there was supposed to be a tenth Garde,” says Five as he shakes Ella’s hand. It’s the closest thing he’s had to a question about the others since we walked in.

  “There wasn’t. I was sort of an accident.”

  I notice John shoot Marina a curious look. Marina raises her eyebrows in response, mouthing, I’ll tell you later.

  Five nods at Ella’s response, studying her for a moment longer before looking down at the floor.

  “Huh,” Five says, searching for words. “I’ve kinda felt that way about myself, actually. Our numbers, our Inheritances, the who
le mission to Earth. I mean—how much thought did the big Elders put into this whole thing? Do you think they just, like, drew our names out of a hat?”

  Everyone is silent for a moment, staring at Five. It’s a pretty strange speech, especially when you consider this is the first time the remaining Garde have ever been united. It should be a celebratory time, but Five seems intent on bringing things down.

  “Um, yeah,” says Eight, cheerily breaking the silence. “It is kind of funny when you put it like that.”

  My dad clears his throat, his voice soft. “I can assure you more thought was put into your selection than just a random drawing.” He turns to Ella, giving her the same reassuring look I used to get when I’d come home from school after being bullied. “And your escape from Lorien was certainly more than an accident. More like a blessing, I’d say.”

  “Uh, right,” says Five, still staring at the floor as he addresses my dad. “I guess the old human would be an expert on Lorien.” He glances up then, forcing a smile as he notices the rest of us fixing him with weird looks. “Sorry,” he adds quickly, “I’m just thinking out loud. I don’t know what I’m talking about either.”

  “I don’t consider myself an expert,” my dad says diplomatically. “I’m sorry if I offended you. But I believe in the work of your Elders. If I didn’t . . .” He trails off, probably thinking about the time he’s spent as a Mogadorian captive.

  Five looks sheepish now. “Four—uh, John—I’m pretty tired. Is there a place where I can lay down for awhile?”

  “Sure, man,” John replies, patting Five on the back. “Why don’t I show all you guys where the rooms are?”

  A few minutes ago, I empathized with Five for what an awkward situation this must be for him. But, I don’t know, something about the way he talked to my dad really rubbed me the wrong way. There was almost a note of disdain in his voice, like my father couldn’t possibly have any useful information about the Garde.

  The whole group—minus Nine—lead us down a hallway covered in works of art that would probably fetch a small fortune at a museum auction. I still can’t believe a dude like Nine lives here. I feel like I should be wearing a tuxedo just walking around. As we walk through the penthouse, Sarah and Six break off to get cleaned up from the road, and Ella excuses herself to go help Nine put away the gear. Eventually, John stops in the middle of the hallway.

  “This one’s free,” John says, opening a door for Five. “There are some extra clothes in the drawers too, in case you feel like a change.”

  “Thanks,” Five says, trudging into the room. He’s about to slam the door, but realizes we’re all lingering outside, kinda staring at him. “Uh, see you guys at dinner, I guess,” he mutters, before closing the door.

  “Cool dude,” Eight says dryly. Marina elbows him in the ribs and shushes him. I glance towards the closed door where I bet Five is still standing, listening. I feel a little sorry for him again. It isn’t easy being an outsider.

  John turns to my dad and me. “Are you guys beat too? Or do you want the grand tour?”

  “Nah,” I say. “Lead on. This is my first penthouse.”

  “Mine too,” my dad adds, smiling.

  “Awesome,” John replies, looking relieved that we aren’t being as antisocial as Five. “I think you guys are really going to like the next stop.”

  My dad trails a few feet behind the group, admiring the artwork. Once we’ve continued down the hallway and put Five’s room out of earshot, Eight asks the question that I think most of us are thinking.

  “What’s with the new guy?” He glances over at me. “Not you, Sam. You seem perfectly normal.”

  “Thanks.”

  John shakes his head, looking a little bewildered. “I don’t know, honestly. He’s a little strange, right? Not exactly what I was expecting.”

  “He’s probably just nervous,” Marina adds. “He’ll settle in.”

  “Where’s his Cêpan?” I ask. “What has he been doing all these years?”

  “He was pretty closed off the whole car ride back,” John answers. “Even Sarah couldn’t get much out of him, and you know how she is.”

  “Yeah. She’s social enough to get you secretive Loric talking about pretty much anything.”

  John chuckles, catching my joke right away. “Sarah is so charming she could convince an on-the-run alien to get his picture taken for the school paper.”

  “So charming that same alien might even throw rocks at her window in the middle of the night, even if the feds are staking out her house.”

  Eight and Marina exchange a look of confusion as John and I start laughing.

  “You threw rocks at Sarah’s window?” Marina asks John, her eyebrow cocked in amusement. “Like Romeo and Juliet?”

  “Uh, allegedly, according to the FBI—oh, check it out, we’re here,” John says, anxious to change the subject. I smirk at Marina and nod.

  At the end of the hall, John shows us into a room that looks like the Garde have been using for a base of operations. There are huge computer screens on one wall, one of them running a program similar to my dad’s web crawler. The Loric Chests are stored here, along with the tablet we recovered from my dad’s laboratory. The rest of the room is absolutely cluttered with various pieces of tech; some of it new and just out of the box, other pieces looking like they were recovered from a junkyard. In some places along the walls, the gadgets and spare parts are piled as high as the ceiling. My dad’s face immediately lights up.

  “This is quite the collection,” he exclaims, his eyes scanning the room like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “Nine’s Cêpan, Sandor, this was his workshop,” explains John. “We’ve put some of the stuff to use, but none of us are exactly technological whizzes.” John turns to my father. “I’m hoping you could see if there’s anything useful, Mr. Goode. Er, Malcolm.”

  My dad rubs his hands together. “With pleasure, John. It’s been too long since I had a place like this at my disposal. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  “I’m also wondering if you could take a look at this,” John says, motioning us through a set of double doors. “Nine calls it the Lecture Hall.”

  Entering a huge, high-ceilinged white room we pass by an intimidating weapons rack which makes the guns my dad acquired in Texas look like toys. The room is about the size of our high school’s gym, making me marvel all over again at the overall hugeness of the penthouse. At one end of the room a large cockpit-style apparatus is built into the wall, an array of consoles set up around it. The chair looks sort of smashed, like something huge fell on top of it.

  “Amazing,” remarks my dad.

  “We’ve been using this room to train. Nine says that Sandor had a bunch of traps and obstacles hooked up at one point.” He taps a panel on the wall where it looks like something should shoot out, but nothing happens. “Except, Nine threw a temper tantrum and smashed the controls. Now it only sort of works.”

  “Sounds about right,” I say. It’s definitely not hard to picture Nine flying off the handle.

  “That thing,” he says, waving to the chair. “It’s called the Lectern. If we could get it working again, I think we could really improve our training.”

  My dad is already kneeling down before the Lectern, picking at frayed wires and bent steel plating. “This is very impressive work,” he says.

  I examine the machinery over his shoulder even though I have no idea what I’m looking at. “Can you fix it?”

  “I can try,” he says, turning back to John. “I’ll be of service in any way possible.”

  “Me too,” I say, giving John a quick salute. He chuckles.

  “I know you just got here,” John says. “I hope I’m not being pushy. Honestly, it’s just really good to have you here. And, not to get all sappy, but I’m glad you guys found each other.”

  When John talks about me and my dad, there’s a bit of longing in his voice. I wonder if he’s thinking about how we could’ve had this conversation in
Paradise, my dad and Henri dorking out about technology together, if only things had played out a little differently.

  My dad shakes John’s hand again, patting him on the arm as he does. “We’re glad we found you, John. I know it’s been hard for all of you, but you’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  MARINA REALLY GOES OVERBOARD WITH THE DINNER spread. There are dishes heaped with rice and beans and fresh tortillas, an iced bowl of gazpacho, some kind of fried honeyed-eggplant dish, and like a dozen other Spanish dishes that I don’t even know the names of. I’ve forgotten how good home cooking can be and I eat wolfishly, going back for seconds and then thirds.

  We’re all seated beneath the glittering chandelier in Nine’s banquet hall of a dining room. John sits at one end, my father at the other, and the rest of us in between. I sit next to my father and Nine.

  “Crazy,” Nine mumbles as he scoops a tortilla into his mouth. “Never had so many people at this table.”

  Everyone is relaxed, just chatting and joking around. Five eats a lot, but he doesn’t say much. Next to him, Ella picks at her food, looking tired yet still smiling and laughing whenever someone cracks a good joke. Six is sitting right across the table from me. I try to play it cool and not stare at her too much.

  When the meal is over, John stands up and gets everyone’s attention. He glances at Sarah and receives an encouraging smile. He clears his throat and I can tell he’s given a lot of thought to what he’s about to say.

  “It’s really incredible to see everyone come together like this. All of us have come so far to be here, and gone through so much. Being here—it gives me hope that we could actually win this war.”

  Nine lets out a high-pitched woop woop noise that makes everyone laugh, even cracking John’s serious speech-giving face for a moment. Five looks around at everyone, a quiet smile on his face like he’s finally starting to feel more comfortable.

  “I know some of us have just met for the first time,” John continues. “So, I thought it might be helpful if we went around the table and told our stories.”