This choice: Go along with Vee's plan • Go Back...Chapter #39A Gail Blows Into Town by: Masktrix   You think for a moment, snorting air out of Gail's nose. "Well, I guess I'm in," you say. "Beats sitting around here waiting for you to do whatever. When do I start?"
Abi beams. "That's the spirit! And you can start right away, if you like. I'm heading into Saratoga Falls to get some more supplies - just for myself you understand, no need for the rest of 'em to know about it - and then we're golden. In the meantime, you need to get ready." She points to the bag with a fresh pair of clothes.
You nod, and walk to the bathroom, quietly scooping the bag Abi - Vee - brought with her. Two masks, a change of clothes, a wallet with about $50 and what she probably considers a cheap-ass smartphone. You shrug and begin to get changed, wondering if you're really going to go through with this. It's more vicious than anything you or Shelly would have done. Sure, you've borrowed people's lives, but you've never really done it with malice. If you do this, you're going out of your way to trash this 'Alex Day'. You wonder what she did that was so terrible to make someone like Vee Macklin come after her. Then again, you're not sure you really want to know. The one reassuring fact is that, once you do this, the real Alex won't have to live in anguish for long: Vee's plan seems to be to assume her life without the others knowing.
And it's there, you realize, she's just made her first major mistake. She told you the plan wearing the Abi mask. As it's her first time, and she's still waiting for the memories to come, she hasn't realized that everything she said will change owners with the mask - and Kristen will discover everything Vee intends in short order. You think for a moment about warning her, but then decide against it. Maybe it'd be best if you just let that one play out. Instead, you just walk back into the room.
"How do I look?"
Abi's face is a picture. "Well, for a pervert who seems to like pretending to be girls, you're not very good at it. I'm going to have to do your hair. If you're going to pass as a new girl in town, I can't have you turn up looking like that..."
***
Your arrival into Saratoga Falls isn’t heralded. Abi drops you off almost without a word, and you find yourself walking into the center of town, past Arnholm’s and the rare books case that caused all the trouble to begin with. Instead, you head to the Koffee Kauldron to try and get your thoughts together, sinking onto the ‘moon’ table and wondering how you’re going to find your target, nevermind how you’re going to replace them. Alex Day has a Facebook, of course, so you sit with a coffee and browse it. It’s friend-locked, and the public posts are mostly a mix of art she admires along with a few selfies, half of which she has her tongue stuck out toward the camera or seems to be in a tangled mess of bodies. One, in particular, jumps out at you: a photo with her hanging off the neck of a far taller, relatively handsome guy with a small goatee beard and leather jacket. You hover the cursor over, and it pings him as ‘Lane Overstreet’. Your instinct is that it has to be a pseudonym, but you click on his account anyway. It’s hard to get much – he seems to hang out at the north end of town – but if he’s dating Alex he is almost too perfect. Can you assume that much from one photo, though? You keep it to the back of your mind and return to Alex’s account.
She has far too many friends to narrow down who she’s closest with, so you instead rely on likes and comments. The likes aren’t helpful – they seem to be scattered throughout the school – but there’s one commentor she seems to reply to frequently: Isobel Santos. So, you grab a square of caramel shortbread and move to her page instead. How identity thieves ever worked before Facebook is beyond you.
Isobel’s account is also friends-only, so you’re screwed there. But at least there’s a few photos of her with Alex – pictures of the two girls falling over on a couch, legs and arms flailing – while another girl with bleach blonde hair looks on disapprovingly. Isobel herself seems to be a firecracker, a Latina girl whose hair is half-dyed purple, half black, with oversized lips that bunch up against her nose. She seems pretty close to Alex, and so you mark her down as a possible option to get close to your target.
You go back to your web-stalking, peering through mutual friends to try and ID the blonde. She’s the tallest of the group – although as best you can tell, Alex seems to barely grace five foot – and has a completely different style, one that compliments a figure that’s lean rather than buxom. You zoom in on her, chewing your lip as you figure out who the hell she might be.
“Yew falla’a inshag ham? Yah, rayzfookinotlak, cooshitckapropa yunew?” You glance up, only to be met by a grinning boy dressed in a Liverpool soccer shirt. You blink. Did he just talk nonsense, or was it you?
“Huh?”
“Rayzinshagham,” he says with a jab of his finger. You look at the girl, then back at the boy, only to suddenly find him flanked by a pair of red-headed twins.
“Yeah, we follow her too,” one of them says with a crisp British accent. “Fuck you doing in town, anyway, Gail? Thought you full board lot were stuck at the whims of the X Men.”
Oh shit they know this girl! “Yeah, well. I got a ride from Abi,” you bluff.
“Abe! Fook’inohpass!” the kid with the speech impediment says. “Howzafookyama nagat?”
“Uh,” you continue, ignoring the interruption. “She said she had to do some errands, and I asked if I could get a ride in. And she said yes, as long as I do some favor for her later.”
“Ah, fuck, Gail,” the left twin says, swinging down. “She’s got you now.”
“Tom’s right,” the other twin agrees. “I know you’re only a fourth former but you’ve been there longer than us, thought you’d have figured out how the economy works by now.”
“Yeah, well…” you look at the trio. The twins are definitely British, and you assume the other one is too: it’s probably some impenetrable accent. “You three have got your own thing going on. The rest of us don’t.”
“Well, there’s strength in numbers, isn’t there?” Tom says. “Besides, I swear Harry and I are the only people in this entire state who understand what our scouse colleague is saying.”
“Fookov,” the third says, frowning. “Kanadlee’ellpeikifa gaabivanagsen.”
“Anyway,” Harry – you assume – says. “We’re fans of Rae Caldwell ourselves. In fact, we were hoping to meet her at the Warehouse tonight.”
“Angayubssshishta. Fookin dirtee.”
“Yes,” Tom says, nodding. “Izzy, we know. Don’t worry, you’ve got dibs.” He turns to you. “You going to be there tonight?”
“Uh,” you think for a moment. “Sure, I mean. Maybe? I hadn’t really thought about it. Plus I’d need to get a ride back.”
“Right,” Harry nods to his brother. “We’d let you stay at ours, of course, but somehow I doubt my parents would approve. I hear rumors there are beds upstairs in the Warehouse, though, if you’re desperate.”
“Nahman,” the boy interrupts again. “Yewcanfookinsugg’ estat. Jusadosshouzinnee, fookin’ shkabbeeeassheee.”
Tom shrugs. “Yes, it’s probably a little unhygienic up there. Hey, you want some company? I’m sure we can all squeeze in.”
As much as the boys might be useful for information, you can’t risk it: you aren’t Gail, and they clearly know the real one. So, instead, you shake your head and stand up. “Sorry, I need to get going. Maybe I’ll catch you later tonight?”
“Probably,” Harry – at least you think it’s Harry – says. “If you do pop down to the Warehouse, we’ll be there are a few pre-drinks. One of the benefits of being a local boarder – we get to sleep off Saturday nights in our own bed before heading back to school on Sunday.”
“Later,” Tom adds, before an incomprehensible “Tarraaaagggghhh” from the third in the trio. You wave to them all, and head back to the streets, hastily putting in ‘Rae Caldwell’ into a search. Sure enough, an Instagram account with about 15,000 followers comes back as the top hit. Opening them up, you see the tall, thin blonde in model poses clearly taken downtown – often with a cup of Cherry Brook’s coffee in her hand.
It’s been a strange afternoon of detective work, but at least you have some leads. As best you can tell, the two people closest to Alex – or at least in her orbit – are Lane Overstreet, Isobel Santos and Rae Caldwell. All you’ve got to do is find one of them and replace them. At a guess, they’re all going to be at the Warehouse tonight, although swapping with any of them there could be hard.
That said, you could try and find one of them now. You know Rae’s preferred coffee house, and you might get lucky and be able to grab her there. And, you think with growing excitement, you aren’t just limited to using your Gail identity either. Vee told you not to contact the golems, but you’re only a few blocks from the church basement – where you’ve got a Carmen Acuna disguise waiting, complete with mind band. It might make your approach even easier.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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