Read Online The Neon Graveyard by Vicki Pettersson - Free Book Online Page B

tossed from the troop. Then you could have stolen every map in that warehouse.”
    But the agents of Light had since shut it down, clearing any sign of their time there, and confiscating all of Hunter’s belongings.
    Kai scratched his belly and stretched. “Then again, maybe Lorenzo just biffed it.”
    “Hunter Lorenzo doesn’t fuck up,” I said immediately, then blushed at my use of the present tense, as if Hunter was still here, active and alive. He was, in a way. Alive in my mind as surely as his child was alive inside my body. “I’m just saying those aren’t random markings. There’s a reason behind everything Hunter does.”
    “So maybe he had another hidey-hole. A loose floorboard or ceiling panel. Something like that.”
    I shook my head. “Too obvious.”
    And Warren would have scoured the entire warehouse by now. There wouldn’t be a dust bunny, much less an untouched wall panel. Forget about a map. I wished now that I’d taken a photo of that sky rendering over Hunter’s bed. “That one was marked wrongly as well,” I said absently.
    Kai looked up from picking orange dust from his nails. “Come again?”
    “Oh, this rendering of the night sky he had posted in the warehouse’s crow’s nest. It wasn’t like this though. All the constellations were in the right place, but he tracked the frozen stars as well.”
    “Dead stars?”
    I looked over as Kai’s voice sharpened.
    “Yeah,” I said slowly. “Black holes.”
    Giant stars that’d evolved, contracted, and died. The largest ones, Hunter had explained, had the shortest lives. I sighed at that.
    “Hidden in plain sight,” Kai muttered, nodding to himself before glancing at me. “Think it’s still there?”
    “I don’t see why not.” I shrugged. “But Warren knows Tripp and I broke in before. It’ll be locked up tight.”
    Kai scoffed. “They won’t bother with patrol now. Not with the Tulpa going commando on their asses.”
    “So it could be worth a look?”
    Kai looked at me like I’d been smoking ganja. “Bra had a mishmash of dead stars hanging above his bed. If he does everything for a reason, like you say . . . ?”
    Kai trailed off, and I turned my attention back at the map, peering through the loupe once more at Hunter’s tight, scribbled writing. Pisces. Kai was right. A man overly fond of maps had been making notations, hiding the proof, and putting himself to sleep by looking at black holes.
    It was worth more than just a look.
    “Now. The manual.” He held out his hand for the comic book Joseph had given us. I pulled it out, but held it back.
    “One more thing.”
    “Aw, man!” Kai flopped back like a rag doll, and wriggled there for a little bit. I just waited, and when he finally sat up again—still whining, face still pained—I had the flashlight pointed at a page I’d marked. One with a panel featuring the Tulpa.
    He was dressed in the skin of a mild-mannered professor, but pacing a room that looked to be used for formal worship. I pointed to the corner where a sand tablet sat on a table, a small rake used to erase the tablet’s images parallel to its side. But this drawing had yet to be erased.
    Kai squinted at it, then looked back at me, the light playing over the left half of his blank face. “So?”
    “So this symbol is important to the Tulpa. It looks to me like a snake wrapped around a stick. You’re supposed to come from a long line of Seers. What does it look like to you?”
    Kai tilted his head. “A snake wrapped around a stick.”
    I pulled back the manual and began to stand.
    “Okay.” Kai spoke quickly, holding his arms up to me in supplication, like I was taking off with his weed money. “It’s the Serpent Bearer, okay?”
    I straightened. “You know what that is?”
    “You don’t?”
    Immediately I called the others over. Once they were gathered, I told them I’d shown Kai a picture of the symbol the Tulpa was so interested in. He’d killed for it, fought for it, and was