Secrets, Lies and Dragonflies

Chapter 36

Like a rag doll, the little boy is swept up against the beach in one last push from the merciless sea. He drags himself along the wet sand until the waves are no longer a threat.

"Aaaah, poor baby. Better luck nexsssst time," Calculus says, slithering off his surfboard.

I've lost track of Shrewdy, but he's still lurking. "Told you he couldn't hack it, Calculous. Bet he won't get back out here now," he says.

"He will if he wantssss to prove he'ssssssss a man."

The boy tries to stand, coughing and gulping air like a fish. It is Spencer. My Spencer. I bolt after him.

Appearing out of nowhere, Mr. Peter intercepts me. "It is not the way, Mackenzie. You need to remain here. Keep telling us what you see. Are there any more non-human forms?"

Trying to force my way through him, I'm no match. I span as far as I can see. "No. Now will you please let me make sure he's okay?"

Hot on Mr. Peter's trail is what's left of my class: Ashley, Elizabeth, Shannon, Monique, Christina and Courtnee.  Only the two girls I saw with Joan earlier, disengaged in the surf lesson, are missing.  Gathering behind them are more girls that I've never seen before.

"The boy on the beach down the way is a Target," says Mr. Peter, towering over the group.  "The Invaders, do you still see them, Mackenzie?"

I can't pull my attention away from Spencer crawling across the sand. He finally stops and rests, burying his head into knees.

"Mackenzie!" Mr. Peter snaps at me.  

"Huh?" I can't think straight. My gaze skims across the water searching for snake heads.  "I'm sorry. I've lost sight of them both."

"There's two then?" asks a pale, petite girl breaking through the pack. With wild, strawberry blond hair, she's not much older than me. Her rich hazel eyes are locked in on something off shore. "I believe I see them. In the ocean over there, Brittany." She nods her head, indicating a spot in the water with a group of swimmers and boogie boarders.

Glued to her side, a taller girl matches her gaze. "Okay.  We'll spread out for now.  Everyone. Let's mingle until Isabella can get a minute to check everything out."

When they disperse onto the beach, a portly man emerges from the bunch. The father of one of my very best friends, who never passes up an opportunity to talk sports with me, blows right by like we've never met before. Heading straight for Mr. Peter, he stops short, crouches down, puts his index finger in the sand and draws an elongated u-shape.

Without a word, Mr. Peter drops down and mimics the same actions, but reverses the drawing.

Together, both crouched men gaze at their combined simple sketch—a hieroglyphic-looking fish symbol.

"Peter," the squatting man says, extending his arm.

"Philip, old friend," Mr. Peter replies, clasping his forearm. Their closeness was palpable. When they release, the two stand and slightly bow to one another.  "So this is your new Shillelagh?" Mr. Peter asks.

"It is. They are a fine bunch. On their first official mission. It is pleasing you are here to bear witness." Despite the uncanny resemblance, I'm guessing this man is not Mr. Stewart, Abigail's dad. "Tell me, how is yours coming along?"

"Training is going well. Although, our Thyatiran's Day of Discernment has begun after only a few meetings."

"My. That is quite unusual. A rare occurrence, I must say. And she has not yet ascended?"