Last of the Mighty by Phineas Foxx Read Free Book Online

arm. Any dentist, veterinarian, or kid with Play-Doh could identify the biter. Take a mold of the suspect’s bite, compare it to the victim’s wound, and bingo. Smiler’s copper chums—let’s call them Nightstick and Doughnut—must’ve tuned in to Demon Radio and got the news straight from the source. Probably offered to lead the investigation. Would’ve been easy to botch the evidence, ignoring Merryn’s bite marks altogether. And since Merryn refused to tell anybody who beat her up, my anonymous tip to the cops was never corroborated.
    Coach Burns opened his office door for me. It was faded blue with warped edges, peeling paint, and a murky pane of glass set into its top half. His scabby wood desk was a miniature city of high-rises constructed of neat stacks of paper. Varnished streets, worn and scaly, ran between them at ninety-degree angles. A couple of wrestling trophies were the village statues. A photo of his family was the downtown’s JumboTron.
    â€œYou serious about wrestling, Ahhg?” He pulled out his old wooden chair, its legs singing like crickets as they dragged across the tile floor.
    â€œYes, sir.” I could tell by his tone that it was going to be one of those conversations where I would have to sit up straight and use “sir” a lot.
    â€œHow do you explain missing over three weeks of practice then?”
    â€œMy cousin—”
    â€œYou plan on attending a good cahhllege, Ahhg?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œAnd do you have any idea how much a cahllege education cahsts these days?” His neck was turning red.
    â€œNo. Not real—”
    â€œA helluva a lot! That’s how much!” He paused, took a deep breath, and softened, almost embarrassed at his outburst. “Listen to an old man.” He lifted his ball cap and smoothed a hand over the pink and white spots of his bare scalp. “I like you, Ahhg. Always have.” He set the hat back on his head and jiggled it into place. “And I wahnt the best for you. Haahnestly.”
    â€œI appreciate that, sir.”
    â€œIt’s no secret that schahhlarships are out there for a kid with your ability. It’s a golden ahhpportunity, and I’d hate to see you piss it away.”
    I knew what he was getting at. There was no way I could afford the tuition, books, food, rent, and all the other crapajawea needed to get through four years at a decent university. Surprising as it may seem, Mom wasn’t a trust-fund nun with a Swiss bank account and rental property on Oahu. I was what you called destitute.
    â€œRight now, you’ve gahht your pick of the litter. Penn State, Cornell, Stanford, University of Oregon, Notre Dame... They’ve all cahlled me, Ahhg. Each of ‘em interested in giving you a full-ride ticket.”
    â€œThat’s…” I was stunned, had no idea. “Great, sir.”
    He leaned forward. “One hitch, though.” His left elbow rocked a squat office building and sent its top floor tumbling into the abyss below. He ignored the destruction. “You have to wrestle, Ahhg. And wrestle well.”
    â€œI will, sir.”
    He nodded slowly, eyes stern. Wanted to make sure I was on the level.
    â€œGood!” he barked, then shot to his feet, his swift motion stirring the air into the worst windstorm his paper city had seen all year. “Come on then.” He clapped me on the back and led me to the scale.
    He weighed and measured me, recited it while writing it down. “Seven-one. Two-forty-nine.”
    I’d grown. Hospital food.
    Sure, I was still on the slim side, but at least it was one more inch and a few more pounds for Tucker to worry about.

Chapter Fourteen
    Merryn had her hospital bed propped to a sitting position with her laptop open. As promised, she’d done her homework on Shemja-za. She cleared her throat and read from the screen. “Semjaza is also known as Shamazya