Me and Sam-Sam Handle the Apocalypse by Susan Vaught

Author:Susan Vaught
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster/Paula Wiseman Books

16

Thursday, Four Days Earlier, Early Evening

You ever seen Swamp Thing?” Springer asked me as he poured more water on some paper towels and tried to scrub off my face.

“Funny,” I told him. “Not.”

We were huddled inside the clubhouse, sitting close together with my cleaning tote open, and I couldn’t stop shivering from my yucky swim.

“You have a lot of little cuts on your face and arms,” he pointed out.

I sighed. “I know that. And now Dad’ll be all like, see, it’s like I said, you can’t keep yourself safe.”

“That’s not true.” Springer dabbed my forehead. “You saved us both.”

“After I almost got us both stomped. Stupid idea, observing Jerkface and the cockroaches. Do you think it would hurt if I used spray cleanser on my arms?”

“Yes,” Springer said. “Don’t do that. And I think your shoes are ruined.”

“Nooooooo.” I took the paper towels away from him and used the spray cleanser on my poor sneakers. “I’ll tiptoe into the house and put my clothes and shoes in the washer. I’ll even take a really long bath, even if it makes me itchy.”

“At least you were grounded from your phone,” he pointed out. “Or that would be ruined, too. And I don’t think it was stupid to observe Ryker and Trisha and Chris. We got some evidence, didn’t we?”

I scooted away from him and leaned against one of the clubhouse walls. I wanted Sam-Sam, but I was sort of glad he wasn’t here to roll around on me and get all muddy, too. I kept remembering swimming through the pond, and the way Chris’s voice sounded and all their dumb threats.

“They are such jerks,” I whispered, wishing I had better words to express how much I loathed every cell in their bodies. “But I don’t know if they seem guilty because I can’t stand them, or because they really had something to do with the money being stolen.”

“Well, there’s one way to find out,” Springer said, pulling out his phone and wiggling it back and forth. “OBWIG can keep investigating. Question the other suspects and see if we can rule them out—or in.”

He lowered the phone and punched in his security code, then pulled up the photos he had taken in my dad’s office.

I blinked at them, then remembered. The initials. The people we needed to look up in the yearbook. The yearbook that was still here in the clubhouse. I pointed to it, and Springer handed it to me, then got out a head lamp and switched it on without strapping it to his head. He handed that to me, too.

“What’s the first one?” I squinted at the phone. “I remembered them all when I was talking to Dad, but a lot has happened since then.”

“KA,” Springer said. “So go to the As.”

I held the head lamp in my hand and shined it on the pages until I found the A names in the senior high section of the yearbook.

“KA has two senior high matches,” I said, pointing at the pictures.

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