Dead End

by C. P. Rider

  "Oh no." I heard Aedan say from behind me.

  Sand curled around my ankles like hands, and yanked me hip-deep into the ground. From the grunts behind me, I figured the same had happened to the others.

  "You used my ability. How?" I was in shock, but more than that, I was sickened by what he'd done. It was a violation.

  "By using his ability." Aedan jerked his body to the side so he could see me from his sand-hole. "He can exploit any attack from an ability. Why do you think I haven't electrocuted him?"

  I glanced at Abuelo, who nodded. That's what Kilshaw had meant on the other side of the ripper when he'd said it wasn't enough. When I sank his henchman into the sand, I hadn't used enough power for him to steal it from me.

  "Did it occur to either of you that I might have needed to know this information?"

  "I tried to tell you." Aedan gave me a pained look.

  "You told me not to use my ability on that side." Which was all he could say at the time. I let my head drop. "I should have listened."

  "Ooo, I'm much more powerful here. Don't you feel the difference in the air, kids? On the other side I was so … limited." Kilshaw shivered, but it was the sort of shiver where the person seemed to enjoy doing it. Eww.

  It was my fault we were in these holes. If I hadn't acted impulsively, he wouldn't have been able to use me. If I'd relied on my brains instead of my power, I'd be on solid ground now. We all would.

  My gaze shifted to the others. Abuelo was still, his body relaxed. Aedan had sunk in farther than the rest of us, and was trying to keep himself above the surface. Dad was slumped forward and breathing heavily. He had to be in agony, but he didn't cry out, only hung there like a wilted flower, waist-deep in the sand.

  Kilshaw crouched beside Abuelo Emilio, who crossed his arms, set his jaw, and looked away.

  "I've imagined this moment many times, old friend."

  Abuelo said nothing. His lack of response seemed to annoy Kilshaw. He slapped Abuelo so hard across the face I felt the whoosh of air from where I was. My grandfather took the blow without so much as a whimper. He didn't even uncross his arms. Just eyed Kilshaw as he licked his busted lip, turned his head, and spat blood out of his mouth.

  Whoa. Abuelo was a badass. Chuck Norris and The Rock combined.

  I caught his eye, wordlessly asking if I should do something to help.

  He snap-shook his head. There was nothing I could do to help. If I attacked, I'd only make things worse.

  "Haven't you done enough, father? We're at your mercy here." Aedan sounded bored.

  "Don't antagonize him," I snapped.

  Aedan winked at me.

  "Betrayer." The hate in Kilshaw's eyes was a cold, miserable thing. The frost in his voice froze me from the inside out.

  "I am," he replied. For all his flippancy, Aedan was afraid. Terror radiated from him in icy waves. Despite his fear, or perhaps because of it, he snarled, "If your plan of revenge requires you to lash out like a child, Father, lash out at me. I betrayed you. I deserve it."

  Was he trying to drag Kilshaw's attention away from Abuelo? Guessing that might be the case, I dug into the sand around me, tried to pull myself free. The sand loosened, then sucked me down deeper. Now my arms were trapped too.

  Kilshaw chuckled. "You know better than that, earthmover. Quicksand doesn't forgive escape attempts. The more you move, the deeper down it pulls you."

  I set aside my personal anger and appealed to Kilshaw's flawed sense of compassion. "You wouldn't hurt your own son, would you?"

  "No." He retrieved the gun, then turned and pointed it at me. I froze. "But I'd hurt you."

  "Me, damn it." Aedan struggled to free himself from the sand. "I'm the one who betrayed you."

  "Better stop me, son. You know what this gun is capable of." Kilshaw slid his finger onto the trigger.

  "Don't." Aedan's entire posture changed. The lightness in his tone went heavy and dark. "Don't hurt her."

  "You care about this girl? Funny. You had no problem spying on her, ratting her out. He told me everything." This last he directed to me.

  "I didn't, Maria. I only told him enough to keep him off my back. It isn't like he's saying." Aedan looked so distressed that I'd believe his father's words, I felt compelled to comfort him.

  "I understand," I said. "You had no choice."

  "There's always a choice." Kilshaw smiled like a hungry shark, all teeth and mindless violence. "Like now, for instance. See, I'm choosing to kill you, earthmover, to repay my son for his betrayal and he's choosing to let me."

  32

  Electricity streaked from Aedan to Kilshaw, enveloping the other man's body in a flashing, silver fire. The gun dropped out of his hand.

  "You got him," I said.

  Aedan's eyes were sad. "No. I didn't."

  Kilshaw braced himself as Aedan's power swarmed around him. The silver fire crackled and popped, but Kilshaw never flinched. Instead, he drew in a deep breath and held out his arms as if welcoming the electricity into his body.

  Oh no.

  "You've been holding out on me." Kilshaw tsked, waving his finger back and forth. "I thought you were like your mother. A weak mid-caste. But you're much more. Yet another betrayal?"

  "What makes you think Mom was a mid-caste? Because she told you she was?" Aedan's voice whisper-trembled with rage. "Mom knew what you were. She told me to keep quiet. She said if you ever figured out what we could really do, you'd lock us up. She feared you. Hated you."

  "She loved me."

  "You killed her love. And then you killed her."

  Kilshaw scowled at Aedan. "Lies. I didn't kill Maggie."

  "The sad thing is, I think you've convinced yourself that's the truth. But it's a lie. I know. I was in the training facility the day you did it. I saw her yelling at you, saying she wouldn't let you hurt me anymore," Aedan snarled. "She lunged at you and you pushed her into the wall. She hit her head and there was so much blood … I saw what you did. I saw it all."

  "I didn't kill her. I tried to help her." For a moment, pain flashed in Kilshaw's eyes. "I tried to help…"

  "She wouldn't have needed help if you hadn't hurt her."

  "Shut up. Shut your mouth." Silver electricity flowed down Kilshaw's arm and enveloped his son.

  Aedan's body jerked. A blip of a sound escaped him, but nothing more. Apparently, that wasn't good enough for Kilshaw, because he did it again, for longer this time.

  "Aedan." I looked to Abuelo, racking my brain for something, anything, we could do. "How can I fight a man who uses my attacks against me?" I whispered.

  Abuelo whispered back, "Attacks, Maria. He uses attacks."

  But what else could I do but attack him?

  Aedan's breath whooshed out as another zap of his own power jolted through him. He was slumped over, his entire body trembling. It was a faint tremble, not a full shake, and as he moved, I noticed something. The sand holding him prisoner was loosening, and it wasn't pulling him down.

  And it was alive with electricity.

  Continuing our whispered conversation, I asked, "Why is the sand around Aedan crackling like that?"

  "My guess is there's water nearby. Sand isn't a good conductor unless it's wet."

  "Why aren't we being electrocuted, too?"

  "Looks like your young man is keeping that from happening."

  He wasn't my young man, but now wasn't the time to argue about it.

  "I have an idea," I mouthed. Abuelo Emilio nodded.

  I really hoped this worked, because if it didn't, we were all toast. Then again, if I did nothing, we were just as toasted, so…

  Please work, please work, please work.

  With the lessons I'd learned from Samuel—and today, with Abuelo—in mind, I eased my ability into the ground beneath me. It took all my concentration to keep the brakes on, but I knew that if I didn't, I'd end up literally digging my own grave.

  Using slow, circular movements, I weakened the sand's hold on my limbs, using the gentle pu
lsations of my ability to assist. There was water nearby. I felt the difference in the way the vibrations soaked into the layers of wet sand as opposed to the way they powered through the dry. I'd never noticed the difference before because I'd been too busy sledgehammering my way into the ground.

  I drew the moisture toward me, working it into the sand around my arms and hands, all the while keeping my eye on Kilshaw—and Aedan, whose head was drooped forward, chin on chest. Panic shot through me, but I took a couple of calming breaths and concentrated on the task at hand. Aedan's life might depend on my control, so I couldn't allow myself to give in to emotion right now. Later, I'd fall apart. But right now, Abuelo, Dad, and Aedan needed me to keep my focus.

  I let my body fall back as if I was floating in the ocean, and freed my hands. My lower body was still beneath the sand, but I wasn't trapped. I could climb out. However, if I did it without first figuring out a way to take care of Kilshaw, I'd find myself right back in it, or worse, toasted like a marshmallow at a campfire.

  Abuelo gave me a quick smile. Nodded again. I was doing it. Everything was going to be—

  Aedan screamed, and my heart stumbled in my chest.

  "You are killing your own child," Abuelo said to Kilshaw, fury deepening his already low voice. "Is that what you've been reduced to, Tristan? You tell me I was wrong to cast you out of Sanctum, but you prove my actions correct with everything you do."

  Kilshaw snapped his head to Abuelo, then back to Aedan. Blinked as if waking from a dream. For a second, his face registered worry, brows pulled into a vee above his nose, forehead crinkled, mouth drawn down.

  Then the second passed. His brows shot up, forehead smoothed, mouth curled into a wicked smile. "I'm seventy years old, Emilio. What makes you think this is the first time I've killed one of my children? Like this one, they've all been such … disappointments."

  He hit Aedan with another jolt, and sent one in Abuelo's direction, too.

  Both men grunted. Aedan's sounded hoarse and weak. He wouldn't last much longer. I wasn't even sure he was conscious.

  Fear gripped me, held me as immobile as the sand had. Who did I think I was, thinking I could pull this off? Just a seventeen-year-old girl with an ability I didn't even know how to use, going up against a man who'd led a revolution against an entire world a half-century ago. A man ruthless enough to murder his own wife and child.

  There was no way out of this. No way we were going to win. No way I could outsmart Tristan Kilshaw.

  “Tú puedes hacer esto, María,” Abuelo whispered.

  Although I wasn't fluent in Spanish, my mother had spoken both English and Spanish to me as a child, and I understood him. You can do this, Maria. I wondered if he'd ever said those exact words to my mother.

  "Fuerza," he said.

  I knew that word, too. It meant strength, but it also meant force.

  Power.

  Fuerza was something I had, but I couldn't use my power to attack Kilshaw or he'd turn it back on me and everyone else.

  Unless I didn't attack him.

  Abuelo's words from earlier returned to me. "He uses attacks."

  And suddenly I knew what I was going to do.

  If Kilshaw was only able to use attacks, all I had to do was not attack him.

  I fought panic with slow breaths and pure concentration, the same way I'd fought the sand holding me tight. Set my focus on a patch of ground directly behind Kilshaw and poured my ability into it. The sand in that spot loosened, then began to rotate inward like an ocean whirlpool.

  I waded to the hard bank of sand surrounding me, lay as flat as I could manage, and shimmied out of the hole. Wet sand clung to my legs and seeped through my clothes. I was tired and cold, but I was free.

  Kilshaw stopped his assault on his son and whipped his head in my direction. Aedan flopped over. He was conscious, that much I could see.

  "Damn you, girl. This is your fault." Kilshaw shot a bolt of electricity at me. I threw myself to one side and the bolt struck the sand, the energy harmlessly dissipating.

  "Perhaps you need bifocals, Tristan," Abuelo said.

  Kilshaw's response was a furious shriek and a bolt of electricity. This bolt seemed weaker, though. Abuelo flinched, but he didn't grunt or cry out.

  "I can't help you yet," Aedan whispered to me. His face was gray, his eyes bloodshot, his nose bleeding. "He short-circuited my ability."

  "It's okay. I have a plan." Oh God, I hoped this worked.

  Aedan's bloodless lips curved into a grin. "I knew you'd think of something."

  "You." Kilshaw stalked toward me, and away from the trap I'd set.

  "You," I echoed, planting my feet in the sand in front of Aedan. "You won't hurt him again."

  He looked amused. "How do you plan to stop me?"

  Keeping my gaze on Kilshaw, I set my focus on the sand trap, pulled it closer.

  "By sinking you into the sand up to your neck and covering your head with honey." That last part wasn't true, even if it sounded good. I didn't have any honey on me.

  "You can't use your ability against me, and without that, you're nothing. Face it, there isn't a thing you can do to stop me." He shook his head in Abuelo's direction. "I lament the youth of today, Emilio. They've got more power than we had, but they don't use it properly."

  "Shame," Abuelo said, winking at me.

  The trap swirled behind Kilshaw.

  "Actually, there is one thing I can do," I said.

  "Is that right?" Kilshaw held out his arms and closed his eyes. Laughed arrogantly. "By all means, let me have it."

  I ran as fast as I could straight at him, ducking low as I rammed into his gut with my shoulder. He was a foot taller, and much stronger than me, but he hadn't anticipated a plain old physical attack. His eyes flew open as my momentum made him stumble, arms windmilling, two steps backward. It was enough. He dropped into the sand trap, immediately sinking up to his neck.

  I released my hold on the whirlpool and the surface sealed, holding him captive.

  "Does anyone have honey?" I asked.

  Kilshaw screamed with fury.

  Aedan smiled. "You're the best girlfriend ever."

  I spent the next few minutes helping the others free themselves. One by one, they crawled out of the holes. It took all three of us to free Dad, who hadn't yet regained consciousness.

  I was pretty sure I was in shock. My legs felt like noodles and I could barely stand, so I plopped down beside Aedan to rest. He was cross-legged on the ground, hunched over, and still sizzling.

  "Hey, babe."

  "To be clear, I am not your girlfriend."

  "I know," he said. "But I have high hopes for the future."

  Sighing, I wrapped my arms around my legs. "Guess you're okay, then, since your sarcasm is back."

  "Yeah, I'm good. Not like this is my first round of shock therapy. Father routinely tested me against my own powers when I first began manifesting, which was when I was a toddler. Why do you think my mother taught me to hide the extent of them?"

  He winced once, before covering it with his usual ironic grin. His hair stuck straight up from all the electricity, and his face was splotched with pink and red blisters.

  Strangely, he'd never looked better. I liked this look more than the smooth, hot guy at the abandoned diner, and I really liked it more than his astral projection image, which turned out to be an idealized version of him, sanitized of the white burn scars on his arms and neck that I could see clearly now in the glaring desert sunlight.

  He caught me staring and pointed at his hair. "Checking out my hot new look? I call it ‘fork in the outlet.' You'll be seeing it on all the Paris runways this fall."

  "You could have shown me these." I reached out, stroked my fingertips over the healed wounds on his throat.

  His grin faded. He caught my wrist and held it. "I don't like them."

  I stared straight into his eyes. "You're very strong. I had no idea how strong."

  "Because of some ugly scars?"
>
  "Because, after all you've been through, you're still … you. Your mom must have been an amazing person." After all, someone had instilled a sense of decency in him. I was betting it was her.

  "She was." I caught the glint of tears in his eyes before he turned his head and released me. "Your dad is waking up. You should check on him. I'll watch mine."

  "Okay, Aedan." I smiled, and this time when he smiled back, it wasn't ironic or sarcastic. It was shy and sweet, and real. Maybe the first real smile he'd ever given me.

  "Take it slow." Abuelo was on one knee beside my dad. "Help is on the way. Lie still."

  Despite the fact that his arm and leg were very clearly broken, Dad kept trying to stand up. His clothes were covered in dirt and blood, his face was puffy and bruised, and he seemed dazed.

  "Loops," he murmured.

  "Dad, I'm fine. Please stop moving." As if my voice had broken some sort of magic spell around him, he fell back and closed his eyes.

  "Is he okay?" I asked.

  "With rest and medical attention, he will be fine." Abuelo cocked his head so he could look me in the eye. "You saved him. You saved us all."

  "We saved us all. I couldn't have done it without you."

  Abuelo wrapped an arm around my shoulder, hugged me. I hadn't realized that the tears were coming until the first drop rolled down my cheek. After that, it was as if the floodgates opened wide. All the fear, the anger, and even the relief, hit me.

  A hand settled on my knee. "Loops?"

  "Right here, Dad." I took his hand, threaded my fingers through his. The weather was on the warm side of sunny, but he was shivering.

  "M-missed you."

  "I missed you, too, Dad. I tried so hard to find you."

  "I'm s-sorry. Thought I w-was doing the right th-thing, s-sending you here."

  Even though it had worked out in the end, I was still angry with him for not being honest with me. Maybe I'd always be angry, but this wasn't the time to discuss it. I was controlling myself better, but I wasn't perfect, and I couldn't risk getting upset and triggering my ability with what amounted to a power vampire buried to his neck in sand only a short distance away.