The Delphi Revolution (The Delphi Trilogy Book 3)

by Rysa Walker

  A boom sounds in the distance, and the camera pivots behind the truck. All of the bears are watching the New Hope building, about a quarter mile back, when a second explosion rips the roof off. One of them pumps his fist, and a few others high five.

  The guards are watching, too. “What the hell?” the female guard says, and then Little Bear glances back down at her lap and says, “That’s the controlled demolish . . .” A little sigh of frustration, and then she repeats, “The controlled demolition scheduled for today. You got an e-mail about it. Open the gate now so we can go.”

  “We got an e-mail,” the male guard says, tapping the gate control with a badge that’s attached to his belt. “You can go.”

  Here in the auditorium, feet pound up the stairs toward the control booth. A woman grabs the door handle and yanks, apparently hoping the giant padlock in front of her is an optical illusion. When it doesn’t open, she pounds on the metal door in frustration.

  Senator Cregg is no longer at the podium. He’s tugging on the cord to one of the monitors. It blinks out, and he runs to the other side of the stage to take care of the second monitor.

  Behind him, a second fountain springs to life. At first, I think it’s simply on a timer, but then the fountain grows, surging at least three times as high as the one at the far end of the lake.

  Back on the remaining monitor, Little Bear is telling the guards, “Get in the booth and forget we were here.” And then the monitor goes black.

  But the audio, which must be run separately, continues. “See? We simply drive through the gates to where the nukes are!”

  The guy who locked the control door is still visible at the very end of the path. I need to see where he’s going and, more importantly, determine whether that second fountain behind the stage is what I think it is.

  Dacia’s voice rings out, giddy with excitement. “We have an army now, and it grows each day. Just now, you watched us control weak minds of these guards. And we could be anywhere. Maybe we are sitting next to you right now. This time our psychic did not blow up nukes. Only buildings, and mostly buildings with no people. That’s why we wait until they close for the day. But next time? Who knows. Stop listening to the politicieni like Senator Cregg. Give us the WOCAN states for our homeland. Let us live in peace, and we will leave you alone.”

  I’m almost to the path when the burner phone rings. It’s probably Daniel asking what the hell I’m doing, but I can’t stop. I look behind me, planning to signal to him that I know what I’m doing, but my eyes never make it that far. They stop at the overpass, where Ashley stands at the wall, holding Caleb. She’s still in the black clothes she was wearing in the video, but the bear mask is gone.

  Caleb stares at the water, transfixed by the new fountain he’s created. Ashley glances over her shoulder and then at the convention center, with its hundreds of glass panes. She says something to Caleb, and the fountain subsides instantly. The only hint it was ever there are the ripples in the water.

  He’s now looking up at the Sunsphere. There’s a crackling noise. I panic, before remembering the umbrella.

  I don’t know if it’s my panic or just a stray thought that reaches him, but Caleb is looking straight at me now.

  ANNA BIG BALL GO BOOM.

  Then the cracking sound grows louder, and tiny golden and clear crystals rain down from above, covering the sidewalk and the grass. The people in the amphitheater are screaming, but they all stay beneath the shelter.

  I stand alone on the lawn, beneath my umbrella, as the gilded snow falls.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Knoxville, Tennessee

  April 27, 2020, 7:33 p.m.

  The fact that I am alone in the middle of a glass blizzard, under an umbrella on a cloudless night, is going to raise eyebrows. It might be best not to wait around for questions. As soon as I’m certain the storm has ended, I toss the umbrella into the bushes and head for the park where we left the van. I’ll call Daniel when I get there and we can set up a rendezvous point.

  It’s a little slippery at first. The glass fragments are so small that it’s almost like walking on sand. But the blast radius was limited, almost unnaturally so, and I’m reminded of the space around my father’s feet in the cell, which was clear of shrapnel from the chain. I suspect there’s a similar fragment-free circle near the spot where Ashley and Caleb were standing.

  By the time I’m across the street, I’m able to pick up the pace to a run. Just another jogger in the park. Pay no attention to the gold glitter on my shoes.

  My father is on the curb when I reach the empty lot. I sit next to him, and he glances at what remains of the Sunsphere. “I didn’t do it,” he says with a hint of a smile.

  “I know.”

  “But . . . you might want to avoid walking on that parking lot for a bit. The asphalt is a little spongy.”

  “Oh. Well, at least you picked up the trash.”

  “I got rid of the trash. I didn’t pick it up.”

  Now that I look closer, he’s right. There are several small piles of ashes scattered about, along with a few oddly misshapen mounds that appear to be melted glass.

  “The little boy did it, right? The one Daniel worries about.”

  “Yes. Caleb. How did you know?”

  He gives a small one-shoulder shrug. “There’s a seer in here. She’s just not very . . . reliable. Some of the things she sees never happen.”

  “That seems to be pretty common with adepts. Stan, the guy back at Sandalford, is like that.”

  “This one is also a bit unstable, though. Most of the adepts that Graham Cregg had killed were unstable.”

  I nod. The only exception I know of was Jaden, and he seemed to think he got pulled in because he and Will were roommates and the Fudds needed another body to test my ability.

  “So, you’re getting to know your hitchers,” I say. “Is that why you’ve been meditating in the back seat?”

  “Partly. I want to know what they can do. But mostly because your mother finds it easier to keep all of our guests calm if I can shut out the external world. They were a little unnerved just after you left . . . a lot of talk about spiders and cages. Is it getting harder to hold him back?”

  “Generally speaking, no. It was just when he heard the Senator’s voice. I . . . I used his own logic on him. Said we have a common enemy, so he needed to get the hell back. And it seems to have worked, at least for now. Tell your crew not to worry. The walls are intact.”

  “But . . . you won’t be able to keep them intact.” The voice has changed, and even though I can’t see his eyes clearly in the dim light, I know that I’m talking to my mother now. “You can’t hold him at bay forever, Anna,” she says softly.

  “With the injections, I could. Probably.”

  “But, at some point, you need to pull down the walls and deal with him. Make him leave. Right? You don’t want him in your head. And we don’t want that for you.”

  “I know. And when this is over, I’ll talk to Kelsey, and . . .” I don’t finish, because that reminds me that I don’t really know how much Kelsey can help me this time. We relied heavily on hypnosis to evict Myron, and that won’t work with Cregg. Usually I’m glad that I have only vague memories of those last sessions. My strongest memory is from after, when Kelsey held me while I cried. But it might be helpful to have a clear understanding of exactly how we made him leave.

  “It’s okay, Anna. I’m not trying to push you. It’s just . . . you said you kept him at bay by pointing out your common goal. It seems the one driving motivation he had was finding a way to protect the adepts—at least the younger ones. Yes, he’s a monster. But he had at least that as a redeeming quality. And you may have to find the humanity in him in order to evict him.”

  My phone rings. It’s Daniel. He didn’t see Caleb and Ashley, but he’d already guessed the boy was there due to the water plume behind the stage. Water effects are Caleb’s calling card. No one was injured, but people are still panicked, and the second
day of the conference has been cancelled.

  We agree to meet outside a nearby hotel in ten minutes, and as I’m hanging up, I see the call that came in just before the explosion. It wasn’t Daniel, as I’d thought. It was Porter. I freeze, scared to listen to the message. I guess my dad picks up on that, because he reaches over and squeezes my hand.

  “If it helps, my seer is positive that your friends at the cabin are all okay.”

  That’s not exactly reassuring, given what he just said about her reliability rating. But it’s the thought that counts, so I give him a shaky smile and tap the phone to play the message.

  The voice isn’t Porter’s. It’s Aaron’s. Tears stream down my face as I listen. “They’re okay. Deo and Sam, too. Colonel Smith’s men—not Dacia’s—were guarding them, and he called to order them released.”

  “Are they going back to Sandalford?” he asks.

  “He didn’t say. I’ll call him when we get to the hotel and let them know about Magda’s deal with the Senator. I’m just so relieved that they’re safe.”

  Pfeifer smiles, but there’s something a little strained about it. Like he knows something I don’t. Or maybe he’s just not very experienced with the whole dad thing and doesn’t really know how to handle an emotional daughter. Or he realizes that safe only means safe for now.

  When we get back to the van, Sophie is waiting on a bench near the play fort. A large Subway bag is next to her, and Lily is asleep in her lap.

  “Guess you were right about the gold ball,” she says, standing carefully to avoid waking Lily. “I heard a splintering noise, and when I looked up, it was like fireworks with all of the pieces catching the lights from the city.”

  “I didn’t do it,” Pfeifer says. “It was that Caleb kid.”

  “And I think we’re lucky it was just the ball,” I say, remembering the way Ashley kept looking at the larger target off to her left—the very large, very fragile-looking convention center.

  “Oh, FYI,” Sophie says, “Miller’s awake again.”

  I sigh, wishing I’d gone back for the gun rather than leaving it with Daniel. We walk over to the van, and I look inside. Miller’s eyes are wide open, staring balefully back at me. I pause before opening the door. His hands aren’t visible through the window, so I have no way of knowing if he’s still restrained.

  “Just slide the door open and we’ll check,” Pfeifer says in a voice loud enough for Miller to hear. “I’d be happy to ‘vent’ again if he gives us any trouble.”

  Miller hasn’t freed himself, fortunately, although the red grooves on his wrists, which are almost as vivid as the self-inflicted bite marks on his fingers from earlier today, suggest that it’s not from lack of trying.

  It takes longer than ten minutes to get the hotel, even though it’s only a few blocks away. We could have walked in half the time, if not for Miller. Cars are clogging the intersections, and the area around the convention center is now cordoned off and teeming with police.

  Daniel is at the curb.

  “Aaron called,” I tell him, fighting the tears again. “They’re okay.”

  He nods. “Yeah. I convinced Smith to have them released.”

  I’m not sure if Daniel means convinced or convinced, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. He nudges Miller again and removes the restraint. I’m a little nervous about that, but we’ll need a credit card and ID to check into the hotel. The only ID we have has Miller’s face on it, and it would be a bit awkward to have him sign for the room with his hands bound. As it is, the clerk gives Daniel an odd look, because Miller seems to be waiting for instructions from him before doing anything. It’s not like it was with Alex Cregg, where he nudged her about the general scenario, and her mind filled in the blanks on its own. Miller seems to be getting better at resisting. I think back to what Daniel once said about Whistler—nudging him didn’t always stick, because he’d built up some resistance from being around Dacia and the other adepts at The Warren. Maybe Miller is building up an immunity due to his time at Sandalford.

  “Where’s the Colonel?” I ask once we’re inside the elevator.

  “He’s meeting us in the bar in half an hour. I told him we needed food and a shower, although I guess we’re stuck in these clothes.” Daniel grabs one of the sandwiches out of the Subway bag, rips off the wrapper, and takes a bite without even checking to see what kind it is. “Obviously, I wasn’t able to follow the Senator,” he says around a mouthful of sandwich. “His security team was already on alert after Dacia hacked into his presentation, and they closed ranks as soon as that thing exploded. I couldn’t even get close enough to get the tag from his car.”

  “There’s probably no point, anyway. I think it’s safe to assume the Senator will follow Dacia, and we know where she’s going.”

  Daniel raises his eyebrows. “We do?”

  “In the video, she said she has an army. And we both know that’s only partly true. Most of her bears aren’t psychic at all. She’s going to Sandalford, to try to get the rest of the adepts to side with her.”

  “Would he follow her immediately, though? You heard him tonight—there are primaries in five more states tomorrow.”

  The elevator opens and we file out. Except Miller, who is reaching for the operating panel when my father grabs his arm and yanks him out into the hallway.

  Daniel huffs angrily. “Walk in front of me until I tell you to stop, Miller.”

  The two rooms are adjoining, and Sophie takes Lily into one of them, hoping for a little quiet. Once we’re inside the other room, Daniel pulls out both the last zip cuff and the gun, pointing the latter at Miller.

  As I put the cuffs on Miller, my dad says, “Make it as tight as you like,” in a vaguely British accent. I snort out a laugh, partly because I wouldn’t have pegged him as a Princess Bride fan, but also because I know Deo would laugh at that line, too. And after being constantly on edge all day, it’s an unbelievable relief to have a thought like that enter my head without it pushing me into a worry spiral.

  I duck into the adjoining room for a quick shower. Sophie and Lily are both sprawled out on one of the beds. When I get back, Daniel is on the phone with Aaron and the others, except for Porter, who is driving back to DC. They’re in the truck—I can tell from the background noise—and I feel a wave of homesickness. My place is there, with them.

  “But the whole WOCAN thing was a joke,” Taylor is saying. “Cregg was just using them to stir up fear. Why is Dacia suddenly beating that drum? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “She’s not simply calling for separate states,” Daniel says. “It sounds like she wants that area to be a . . . I don’t know, a reservation, I guess? For Delphi adepts.”

  “Of which there are maybe a few hundred, total,” Taylor says. “Okay, let’s say a few thousand, with the new cases cropping up.”

  “And the bulk of those are most likely temporary,” Pfeifer says. “Unless they’ve changed the formula names on the spreadsheet that Taylor showed me, the vast majority of what Graham Cregg has been selling to the dealers is the short-term variety that the military wanted.”

  I ask if he thinks that’s why so many deaths are being reported right as Taylor says that it’s still way too few people to fill up the West Coast.

  “Maybe that’s just her opening pitch,” Deo says. “Ask for five states, and they’ll give you one?”

  Daniel says we need to leave if we’re going to meet Colonel Smith on time, but I take the phone. “Please tell me you guys are not headed back to the Outer Banks.”

  “Well . . . not tonight,” Deo says, in a voice that I know from long experience indicates he’s just told me a partial truth, at best.

  “Sam, you’re a responsible adult,” I say. “Dacia is heading for Sandalford. The Senator will almost certainly follow her. Please, take them back to DC.”

  “Um . . . Sam’s not here. He rode back with Porter,” Aaron says. “I’m the only responsible adult, and as much as I’d love to avoid it, the fact that Da
cia and Cregg are headed toward Sandalford means we’re needed there, too. Deo, especially.”

  “Because Maria and Stan say so? You were the one saying you didn’t believe his stupid paths. That things could be changed. At least wait until we can all go together.”

  “Kelsey’s there,” Deo reminds me.

  “And a bunch of other people we care about,” Aaron adds. “You want us to abandon them?”

  “No. Of course I don’t. I just . . .”

  I just want them to be safe. I want everyone I care about to be safe and for all of this to be over.

  “Come on,” Taylor says. “Give her a break. She’s worried. We’re not going directly to Sandalford, Anna. We’ll stop for the night, and then we’re going to meet up with Kelsey, Maria, and some of the other adepts tomorrow. We don’t have a location yet, and I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep what we’re up to from Magda, or even how many of the adepts will be able to sneak out. But . . . we’ll let you know where we are.”

  Taylor Quinn being the voice of calm and reason is probably a sign of the apocalypse. But I say okay and promise that we’ll be leaving around daybreak.

  I missed the first half of the conversation, so Daniel gives me a quick recap as we go downstairs.

  “Porter arrived to find Aaron, Taylor, and Deo under military house arrest, but Smith called and instructed the guards to release them.”

  “Because you nudged him?”

  “Yeah. Then I nudged him again to meet us here. To listen. To give us a chance to explain what we know about the Senator’s role in all of this. If I have to do more, I will. But I’m tired. Dealing with Miller is draining. And . . . Smith thinks I started investigating all of this out of concern for Aaron and Taylor. He does not know my biological father was in the program or anything about my ability. We need to keep it that way, because I don’t think he’s the type who will appreciate knowing I pushed him around.”

  “You had him pinned against the concrete wall out there earlier while you were talking. What does he think happened?”

  “He . . . kind of doesn’t remember that bit.”