Misplaced Trilogy

by Brian Bennett

  “I’m not following you. Abilities?”

  Livy flashed a quick projection that turned her hair momentarily green.

  Meagan jerked in her seat. “Get the hell outa here.” She rubbed her big eyes. “What was that?”

  Trey tried to back Livy off, tugging at her arm, but she didn’t let up. “It’s a side effect of our condition, and I suspect you know more than you let on.”

  Confusion twisted the face of the newcomer. “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Livy cranked up her vibes. “Don’t you feel that?”

  “Come on, Livy,” Trey begged. “You’re scaring her.”

  “She’s one of us. We can’t afford to play games.”

  “Stop it!” Meagan shouted. “Whatever that is you’re doing, turn that shit off.”

  Livy’s vibrations cut off instantly, and she stared across the table at Meagan cowering in the chair.

  “Sorry,” said Livy. “But you felt that didn’t you?”

  Meagan nodded. “Please, don’t do it again.”

  Trey ran his fingers through his hair. “Jeez, you’re worse than getting interrogated by McDonnel.”

  Livy pushed back into her seat with crossed arms.

  Trey looked across the table. “Listen, Meagan. We’re just trying to figure things out. I didn’t realize I’d been changing my appearance my whole life until I met Livy. So, I understand what you’re going through.”

  The green-haired girl stayed curled defensively in her chair, but a wild look sparked in her eyes. “Maybe Momma wasn’t crazy. All those years . . . ”

  “What are you saying?”

  Meagan gazed blankly at the wall, a world away.

  “Whatever it is,” said Trey. “We’ll understand.”

  She shook her head. “It was a long time ago.”

  “It’s okay, we’re friends here.”

  Her feet eased to the floor. “Momma used to get drunk a lot . . . and sometimes she’d ask me to show her my pretty face. I’d beg her to keep quiet, because I knew if Daddy heard her, he’d slap us both around for trying to draw out the demons.”

  She looked to Trey for validation. “I thought they were both whacked-out, but I don’t know. Maybe once upon a time I could show her that pretty face.”

  Trey nodded supportively. “I think I’d have buried my ability, too . . . It’s time you learned the truth.”

  * * *

  At the end of Trey’s long dissertation on the woes of the twelve misplaced embryos, Meagan stared crossly from her oversized chair. “So, does this mean there’s no settlement money?”

  “Did you not hear what I said?”

  “Of course I did, but I could really use that money.”

  “No, there’s no money,” Trey said in disbelief.

  Meagan’s face went sour. “Just great. So, not only am I a freak, I’m a broke freak.”

  Trey gritted his teeth, hating that word. “You aren’t a freak. None of us are.”

  She gazed over Trey and Livy’s disapproving eyes. “Fine. But I’m still pennyless.”

  Livy spun her chair slowly toward Trey. “Didn’t Agent Simmons offer to set us up with a job and a new life if we joined their protection program?”

  Trey nodded and turned back to Meagan. “I’ll bet he can set you up.”

  Meagan perked up. “What about Momma?”

  Trey grimaced. “I don’t know. Maybe. He’s kind of funny about family. It’s hit or miss.”

  “Heck with him anyway,” she said stubbornly. “I’ll come up with money. I always do.”

  Trey couldn’t help glancing at the skin she flaunted, and unfortunately, his eyes ratted him out.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Meagan fumed. “I may be freaky, but I ain’t a freakin’ hooker.”

  He backpedaled. “I-I wasn’t insinuating.”

  She flashed him a pointed glare. “You don’t own the book on strange abilities.”

  Livy’s head spun toward Meagan. “What?”

  Trey lowered his eyes to the paperwork on the table and ripped the top page in half.

  “That’s right,” said Meagan. “I may not be able to rattle the air and make goo-goo faces, but I got talent.”

  Trey wadded the piece of paper and shoved it into his mouth, nervously chewing it to a pulp as he watched Meagan and Livy face off.

  “What sort of talent?” Livy prodded.

  Meagan turned up one side of her smile. “Maybe I’ll just show you.”

  Trey pushed the other half of the paper into his mouth like a goat.

  Livy turned on him. “What are you doing?”

  “What?” he said. “It’s good.”

  As Livy stared at him, the mushy fibers turned bitter and dry. He spat them into his hand. “Why am I eating paper?”

  Meagan laughed devilishly, pushing her pile of papers forward. “There’s more where that came from.”

  Mother

  TREY PUSHED THE stapled paperwork across the table, fighting his craving to devour it like candy. The urge slowly dissipated with each second he avoided Meagan’s hypnotic gaze.

  “I give,” he said. “You made your point.”

  Meagan relaxed into her seat. “Are we done here?”

  Livy wasn’t afraid to look across the table. “No! We got off on the wrong foot, but it’s dangerous out there right now, and we need to stick together.”

  “So now you want me to join your freak club?”

  Trey rolled his eyes, but he didn’t dare challenge her casual tendency to call them all freaks.

  “No,” said Livy. “It’s not like that. Just, don’t rush off. Give it some time to sink in before you leave here.”

  “Time is as short as money. I gotta tend to Momma.”

  Trey looked up, avoiding eye contact. “We’ll make Simmons bring your mother here. Er, I shouldn’t say it that way. We won’t force him. We’ll convince him.”

  “I didn’t force you to do anything,” said Meagan. “I just made you want it. There’s a difference.”

  “Either way, when the agents come back, they’ll ask if you’re one of us. What do you want us to tell them?”

  She looked around the conference room. “I don’t know. Sounds a little too much like prison.”

  “Honest,” said Livy, “we’re free to leave any time.”

  “And the rooms here are like the Ritz,” Trey added.

  Meagan smoothed her hands over the table, deep in thought. “Leave at any time?”

  Trey and Livy both nodded.

  “All right, but if they won’t send for Momma by tomorrow, I’ll have to go.”

  Trey rose from the table, cautiously optimistic. “They will.” He walked to the door and peeked through the blinds at the agents milling around outside. He rapped on the glass, grabbing their attention.

  * * *

  Trey sat tilted back in his leather chair with crossed feet kicked onto the conference table, the gritty taste of paper pulp still lingering in his dry mouth.

  Meagan had been escorted away to her luxury suite at Resort FBI, leaving Livy beside him, staring quietly at the photos of the two missing teenagers.

  He hoped she wouldn’t read off their names. He wanted to know their identities less than he wanted to chew on the disgusting, inky paper.

  A face flashed into his thoughts, the full-color image of a woman. Startled, he blinked away the image.

  He glanced at the black-and-white yearbook photo in front of Livy. The stranger on the page wasn’t a match.

  He closed his eyes, freeing his mind to a blank slate.

  Flash! The face resurfaced, a middle-aged woman with large, blue eyes. Onna!

  He straightened in his chair, dropping his feet to the floor, certain he’d teetered on the verge of dozing off.

  The video screen still broadcasted gray emptiness with No Signal written in the upper corner, waiting for Agent Simmons to reconnect for his follow-up.

  As Trey stared at the blank display
, the conference room slipped from his consciousness and his thoughts tuned to a signal from a distant messenger.

  Sarah’s surroundings flooded into Trey’s vision. She lay in her bed, gazing at the woman seated at her feet, the face that had flashed into Trey’s thoughts.

  “Your strength is returning,” said Onna.

  Sarah sighed. “Forgive me. I don’t fault you.”

  “I know. You’ve faced such torment.”

  “I’m so tired.”

  Elle took Sarah’s hand. “Rest. You need to resume the message very soon.”

  Sarah shook her head. “I can’t. It’s too difficult.”

  “You must. It’s becoming more and more critical.”

  “But nobody is listening.”

  “You have to keep trying, Sarah. Your son is out there. You saw him. Someone will hear you.”

  Trey’s heart fluttered. “I hear you.”

  Onna rose from the bed, her hand slipping away. “Sleep,” she said softly. “I’ll bring tea when you wake.”

  The cement walls faded, and a new face made its way into Trey’s vision. Agent Simmons spoke dully on the video screen.

  Trey forced himself to adjust to his local reality.

  Livy soaked in the agent’s words. She turned to Trey glumly. He’d missed something.

  Simmons tugged his chin, the high definition broadcast bringing out the white stubble in his whiskers. Trey wondered if the agent worked such long hours before he and Livy dropped into his world.

  The weary agent spoke. “As for Meagan Rose and her mother, I don’t see how I have a choice. I can’t put her back on the street. Not right now.” He shook his head. “But I may have to start moving some of you, or you’ll be sleeping on the floor like refugees.”

  Livy folded her arms. “We are refugees.”

  Simmons moved closer to the camera. “Volunteering to give up your bed?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m not saying that at all.”

  Simmons fanned his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry for getting testy. But there’s potential for this to get out of control very quickly.” He lowered his voice. “We’ve kept the media at bay through this whole Doctor Frank hysteria, but with the social media storm that’s brewing, it’s about to blow wide open.”

  “You haven’t told us about Steven Moorehouse.”

  “Ah yes, him. The short of it: he didn’t exist a week ago. Everything we dug up on him was freshly planted.”

  Livy nodded, unsurprised. “And his doctor?”

  “Doctor Yung has a record of testifying in shady medical malpractice lawsuits. We have a strong case against her for fraud, but honestly, I don’t think she has a clue who her patient is or where he went.”

  Trey jumped in. “So, he’s missing, too?”

  “I wouldn’t put his disappearance in the same category. All indications are that he acted voluntarily without duress.”

  Trey spoke to Livy through vibrations, undetected by camera or microphone. “Could it be mind control?”

  She answered in the same manner. “Maybe, but I think that’s a stretch.”

  Simmons appeared impatient. “Anyway. I know it’s not ideal, but do you have a problem accommodating our new guest in your room?”

  Trey stiffened, not liking the thought of sharing living space with a girl capable of making his mouth water at the sight of a ream of printer paper.

  Livy wasn’t as apprehensive. “We’ve been living in a camper. It’s not a problem at all.”

  “Oh, one more thing,” said the agent. “I’m sending casual business attire to your quarters. I’d like you to draw as little attention as possible. For now, you’ll be posing as interns for the agency. And please, keep your faces concealed. Understand what I’m saying?”

  Trey tugged on his well-broken in jeans. “Can’t we just appear to be wearing whatever you want?”

  “I’m confident in your ability to pull that off, but I’ll be more comfortable if you actually put them on.”

  Guest

  TREY SULKED THROUGH the thinning hallway with Livy at his side. The thought of sleeping on the fluffy couch was infinitely better than the hard, cramped camper bed, but it irritated him to be getting screwed yet again.

  Livy nudged him as they passed by the gymnasium, drawing his attention to the loose clothes and baggage piled next to the door. A lone basketball pounded on the floor, echoing through the deserted court. She popped inside the doorway, dragging Trey along with her.

  Near the portable backboard, Zach lobbed a basketball high over his head and it bounced off the rim.

  Trey pulled his hand free of Livy’s, and stood dazed, staring at his best friend. “More wrist!”

  Zach turned with a smile, then proceeded to practice his follow-through.

  Livy trotted forward and threw a welcoming hug around Zach. “I didn’t think you’d be here so soon.”

  Trey broke stride. “Wait, you knew he was coming?”

  “Duh, I was there, remember?”

  “Right,” he said, unsure what else he’d missed while zoned out during the video conference. He met Zach for a quick dude-hug. “It’s good to see you, man.”

  “Yeah, great to see you, too. Both of you.”

  Trey surveyed the gym. “Is Amy with you?”

  “Come on, Trey,” said Livy. “Where’ve you been? Simmons told us Amy refused to leave her classes.”

  “Sorry, I was distracted.” The wheels in Trey’s mind continued to spin. “Wait, are you staying in our room?”

  “Could be,” said Zach. “I haven’t been told.”

  Livy gawked at Trey. “Distracted? Who exactly did you think we were sharing rooms with?”

  He shrugged nervously.

  “Hell no.”

  “Hey, it wasn’t my idea. I didn’t like it either.”

  Zach looked as though he were watching a foreign film, without subtitles.

  Trey glanced over his shoulder, then lowered his voice. “Honestly, I’ll explain everything, but let’s get Zach settled in first.”

  He grabbed Zach’s backpack and a handful of loose articles from the floor.

  Zach pulled his smartphone from his pocket and glanced at the time. “Shouldn’t I wait for the agents?”

  “Dude,” said Trey. “They let you keep your phone?”

  “Sure. Not like I’m gonna call anyone.” Zach turned the display. “No service.”

  “Figures,” Trey grumbled. “Grab the rest of your stuff. They’ll know where to find you.”

  Livy knelt to help collect the folded clothes. “Don’t you own a suitcase?”

  “Sure I do, but there wasn’t a lot of space in the dorm, so I sent it home with Mom.”

  Before long, the trio was strolling through the vacant corridors, each with full arms.

  Trey scanned the empty halls. “Where is everyone?”

  “It’s lunchtime,” said Livy. “I bet this place has a cafeteria. That breakfast didn’t come from a restaurant.”

  Trey’s stomach rumbled. “Don’t mention food. I could eat a horse.”

  “Speaking of horses,” said Zach, “is Dylan here?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Trey.

  Livy rolled her eyes. “If you’d have payed attention, you’d know. No, he’s not. Agent Simmons said Dylan hasn’t been checking in regularly like he’s supposed to.”

  “That’s just perfect,” said Zach.

  Trey’s footsteps stuttered. “What’s up with that?”

  “Nothing, I hope. It’s just that, Dylan has called Amy a few times. She told me he was just looking for a babysitter he could trust.”

  Trey laughed, cutting his buddy off. “Is that jealousy I detect? I don’t think you have to worry. She’s too smart to be interested in a guy like him.”

  Livy grinned. “Because of his big eyes or his big muscles?”

  “Uh, I was thinking more of his big ego.”

  “Okay,” said Zach. “You two are no help at all.”

&
nbsp; Livy smiled. “Seriously, I’m with Trey on this one. How are you and Amy getting along these days?”

  “Swell, except for being four hundred miles apart.” He dodged the subject. “So, what’s going on anyway? Why this sudden push to hide us all here?”

  Trey dropped the heavy book bag and knocked on the door to their room. “I thought you might know more than us about the buzz around the Doctor Frank show.”

  “Sorry, not a fan.”

  Trey’s mother opened the door and broke into a wide smile. “Zach! It’s so good to see you.”

  * * *

  Ahead of supper, Trey shoved the tail of his pink polo shirt into his khaki pants and grudgingly yanked the buckle tight. He and Zach wore the same size, but his lucky friend had called dibs on the light blue shirt.

  Livy seemed more agitated in her long, frumpy skirt and loose flowery top. “Who picked this out? It had to be McDonnel or Graff.”

  “Yeah,” said Trey. “They’re probably trying to get under my skin by making me wear pink.”

  Livy turned sharply. “There’s nothing wrong with your stuff. And it’s not pink, it’s rose. It looks nice.”

  Trey couldn’t lie to her, but he was certain she’d see through his play on words if he told her she looked hot.

  “Why don’t we eat in the room again?” said Trey.

  Zach spoke up, the only one dressed naturally in the room. “Lunch was fine and all, but I’d really like to pick my own entrée.”

  Livy shook the skirt. “Me too. It’ll be fine. It’s not like anyone knows us.”

  “We’re leaving,” Trey announced.

  Mr. Collins sat nearby, reading the newspaper for the fifth time, as if a new article had magically appeared. He nodded, not taking his eyes off the paper.

  Mrs. Collins looked up from her open suitcase, her dark pinned-up hair falling out of its bun. “I’m sure I have something less drab for you, Livy.”

  “That’s all right, Missus C.,” said Livy. “You’re a foot taller than me anyway. Thanks though.”

  Trey’s mother rose, brushing hair from her eyes. “Enjoy your dinner. I want to hear all about it later.”

  “Mom,” said Trey. “We’re not going to the prom.”

  “I know, I know. But you’ve been cooped up for so long. You deserve some entertainment.”