“No, no.” The raggedy man shook his head, long, dirty hair almost hitting me in the face. “Not a shelter, they don’t have what I need, man.”
He reached for the bag, and I held it out of reach. He cried, “Give it to me!” And spat at me.
Jack and the other homeless man reached us as I jumped away from the spittle.
I handed the paper bag back to its owner, who took it with a grateful smile. In contrast to the raggedy man, this man was comparably neat and tidy. His clothes were worn but fairly clean, and his eyes were clear, not red and matted with discharge. In fact, if I hadn’t seen him begging, I wouldn’t have pegged him as one of Portland’s many homeless people.
“Thank you,” he said as I stood between him and the other man. The thief made another attempt at the money, failed to get it, and ran off with a wail. I started to go after him, but the other man said, “No, let him go. You can’t help him. I’ll let the right people know.”
I wondered who the right people were but got distracted by the look on Jack’s face. He was staring at me in shock. I replayed my mad dash and realized I’d betrayed myself again. Dammit.
“I’m Harold.” The man tucked his bag into his jacket pocket. “And I owe you for this service.”
“Oh, well, thanks.” I wondered uncomfortably what he had to offer. “You don’t owe me anything.”
Harold smiled as if reading my mind. “I can’t spare any money-I need to eat-but just know I will find a way to repay your kindness.” He actually gave me a bow and then walked back to his spot at the intersection.
“Huh. That was a little odd.” I took the grocery bag from Jack and inspected the contents to make sure nothing was broken.
“Olivia.” Jack’s hands gripped the straps of his backpack, turning his knuckles white.
“Jack,” I said back, trying to make light of the situation.
“You taking up track? Thinking about trying out for the Olympics?” His light tone was at odds with the intense look on his face.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I looped the handle of the grocery bag over my shoulder and started for home.
“I don’t think I’m hungry anymore,” Jack said, not moving from his spot.
“What? Really?” I spun around to face him. “Just because I chased down a thief?”
“Because there’s something you aren’t telling me, and I don’t feel like hanging out with someone who’s keeping secrets.” He waited in expectation for my answer.
When I did answer, I knew it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “I just ran fast,” I tried to joke. “Maybe it’s residual adrenaline or something.” I needed to stop using that excuse.
Jack’s shoulders slumped, and he shook his head. “When you’re ready to tell me what’s going on, you know where to find me.” He turned and walked away.
Crap, crap, crap. I knew it was pointless to go after him, the stubborn idiot, but I took a few steps before I stopped. He was right, after all. I was lying to him.
And maybe Anna was also right. I was a trouble magnet. It couldn’t be coincidence that I’d witnessed two thefts in one day. Could there be some kind of weird karma drawing me into these situations? Were my stupid abilities forcing me to use them? And what about the rage I’d felt? I’d wanted to pound on the guy’s face. Even now, my hands clenched in fists at the thought of how he’d stolen from a helpless man.
Okay, enough. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the recent calls until I found Aunt Kate’s number. I took a deep breath and pressed ‘call’ before I could think too much about it.
Chapter 5
Aunt Kate told me to meet her after dinner at the warehouse in the east side industrial district near the Willamette River. I told Aunt Kate I wanted her to make my supernormal trouble magnet stop. She didn’t say much, just gave me the address of the warehouse.
I told Dad I was meeting Anna and some other girls at an all-ages club. As far as I knew, Dad didn’t talk to Mom’s side of the family. I wasn’t sure if his break with them was in support of me, or if he was following his own feelings. Either way, some sense told me to hide my meeting with Mom’s sister from him, at least for the moment.
The forty block walk to the warehouse felt risky; too much time for a possible repeat of today’s experiences. Best to get there as quickly as possible while avoiding trouble, I thought as I flashed my student ID at the bus driver. Resisting the desire to scan my fellow passengers, I kept my eyes on my phone, but I still caught flashes of oddities, especially the guy wearing the heavy trench coat. Did I really see a glimpse of what looked like wings poking out from the bottom of the coat? No, it was probably my imagination.
The bus stop was a few blocks from the warehouse. I got off and then stood on the sidewalk facing the direction of the warehouse, not so much afraid of what lay ahead as I was indecisive. While it was obvious my abilities had decided I was ready for this, the scared little seven-year-old in me wasn’t so sure.
Chattering voices and laughter from behind made me step to the side to let several women pass. After they went by, I shoved my hands in my coat pockets, hunching my shoulders and, keeping my eyes firmly aimed forward. I walked toward the warehouse. The women joined the crowd waiting in line at Morrison’s Bar and Café. I was too anxious about my upcoming meeting to crave their famous mac n’ cheese.
The streets emptied of people but filled with fog the closer I got to the warehouse. A few human shapes flitted by as I turned the corner and saw the warehouse a block away. I took a few slow steps before stopping. Wisps of mist drifted around me.
The sound of my last step died away, leaving a muffled silence behind. Muffled except for the sound of shallow, quick breaths – puffs of air signifying my fear.
The door to the warehouse would have been hard for a normal to see from this distance in the dim light, but I could see it without even having to squint. I forced myself to take two more steps. I stopped again. It was just a stupid door. It had no right to be looming like that.
Pulling my coat closed, I held the edges together with one hand pressed against my chest. My heart thudded against my hand, and a shuddering breath filled my lungs with damp air. I peered back along the way I’d come, hoping for…I didn’t know what. Some excuse to leave? Some sign I could still deny my heritage? The street was deserted. Was that a sign? Probably not. It was just empty.
A flicker in my peripheral vision made me look at the warehouse again. A light now highlighted the door, as if to say Hurry up and get in here. But that door was the true dividing line between my normal and supernormal worlds. Going through that door was a tacit acceptance of my supernormal heritage. Swallowing against the volcano of emotions rising from my stomach, I shuddered.
A car door slammed a few blocks away, and the booming sound of a stereo with too much base started up. Blinking, I looked around. I’d been standing on the sidewalk for several minutes. Glancing at the time on my phone, I bit my lip. I was almost late. I forced myself, step after step, towards the warehouse door.
All too quickly, I was there. I lifted my hand to press the buzzer and summon my aunt, my forearm as heavy as if someone had tied weights to it. I pressed the buzzer and glanced at the security camera above the door, suppressing the urge to cross my eyes and grimace at it.
My aunt, Katherine Brighthall, opened the door and regarded me with a thoughtful twist to her mouth. She was a tall version of my mother, her dark brown hair cut short and her face unlined. Her blue eyes seemed to be measuring and assessing me before she finally said, “Hello.”
Several greetings ran through my head – yo, s’up, hey – but I couldn’t make myself act so nonchalant. I went with the standard “hello,” and then burst out with, “Okay look, you have to make this stop. I was glad to save Jack’s life and the little kid and all, but I don’t want all this other stuff.” I crossed my arms. “Make it stop.”
Aunt Kate raised an eyebrow. “Olivia.” She sighed before continuing. “Come with me.” Turning around
, she seemed to disappear into the dim space behind her. I followed her through a dark room and through another door into what felt like a large, echoing space.
Why was it so dark? Was this a test? Before I could ask or run away, she snapped her fingers and the lights came on, illuminating the space around us.
“Whoa,” was all I could come up with to describe what was in front of me. Twisting and turning my head, I stared around the training ground for the Brighthalls.
We stood at the halfway point of the long, easternmost wall. To my left was a section set up with several climbing walls of varying sizes. Even the warehouse wall of that section was a climbing path all the way to the ceiling. The ceiling had several webbed ropes strung across one section of the rafters, and knotted ropes dangled from the rafters in another section of the room. I craned my head, following the path of ropes, absently calculating the fastest route.
There were a couple of boxing rings to the right of where we stood. I could see some familiar weight-lifting machines to the left of the boxing rings. It looked like the barbells on one machine were set to 1000 lbs. I was impressed; even feeling as supercharged as I was, 1000 lbs looked like more weight than I could manage to lift.
Along the far wall opposite us was an imposing display of weapons. I saw several battle axes, some swords gleaming in the light, and several tools of destruction I couldn’t identify. I flexed my hand and pushed down the impulse to try out the wicked-looking mace.
On the far end of the enormous space, between the weapons area and the weights area, I saw what looked like a laser tag room. Vests and guns were neatly lined up along the wall, and through the open door I could see the beginning of a maze. Very cool.
In the middle of the training room was a large tank about the size of a merry-go-round. The base of the tank was opaque up to about five feet, but the rest of the sides were clear and stretched almost to the ceiling. I almost expected to see a floating body, but the tank was empty. What kind of training went on in there?
Aunt Kate said, “Normally your cousins would be here, but they’re on a weekend retreat at the mountain house near Hood River.” She sat down on a couch in a small area that was sectioned off to look like a classroom, complete with whiteboards. I perched on the edge of the couch across from her, too wound up to relax.
I didn’t bother repeating my rant from earlier. Aunt Kate always got to the point in her own time. It used to drive Mom crazy. She said Aunt Kate was like a tortoise plodding towards the finish line. She always got there in the end, but sometimes it took her forever.
Thinking of Mom in the place where she trained made me homesick for her. She had never brought me here, explaining that I couldn’t go until I was of training age. There was a ceremony when we reached thirteen to celebrate the beginning of our training. She did have me doing some workouts at home, mostly to increase my coordination. After she was killed, I stopped. I mean, what was the point, right?
“Olivia,” Aunt Kate began, and my attention snapped back to her. “It is amazing you were able to suppress your abilities for this long. I, well, all of us have been watching you for some time, expecting your abilities to manifest.”
“You’ve been watching me?” I stood up, glaring at her. “Didn’t you listen to me when I told all of you to leave me alone?”
“Olivia, you go to school with two of your cousins.” I could hear her thinking, you silly girl. “And, quite honestly, you don’t have a say in this matter.”
“What?” I brushed aside the information about my cousins for the moment; after all, I was only a month into my freshman year at high school. I wasn’t too surprised I didn’t recognize them since I’d barely met them before rejecting my heritage at age seven. A part of me was surprised, though; when Mom was alive, only Uncle Dan and his daughter Emma lived in Portland. The rest, including Aunt Kate, lived in other parts of Oregon, keeping watch over supernormal activity. They visited Portland frequently for training. Did they all live here now? Why?
I focused on the real annoyance. “It’s my life. I’m the only one who has a say in it. Well, and Dad for now, I guess.”
Aunt Kate tapped a finger on her cheek, shaking her head. She walked over to the laptop beside the compiuterized white board and clicked the mouse a few times. I jerked back when my mother’s face appeared up near the top of the large display screen at the front of the classroom area.
Aunt Kate pointed a remote at the board and said, “This is why I have a say in your life.”
She clicked the remote and pictures appeared above, below, and to the side of Mom’s picture. I recognized my maternal grandparents above Mom. To the left of Mom was Aunt Kate and to the right were Uncle Dan and Uncle Alex. Their children spread out below them. I saw the faces of Aunt Kate’s kids, Zoe and Lange. Under Uncle Alex’s photo were Kevin and Hugh, who both looked familiar.
And with a pang, I stared at Emma’s picture under Uncle Dan. We were the same age and were once as close as sisters. I hadn’t seen or talked to her since my seventh birthday party when I declared my independence from the Brighthall side of the family. The last time I saw Emma was as she was carried out by Uncle Dan, tears streaming down her face. Part of me didn’t want to face her, but the other part was curious to see how she’d grown up. She looked different from the seven-year-old girl I remembered; instead of blonde pigtails and a missing tooth, she wore her hair dyed black in a pixie cut and looked fierce. I ran a hand over my long hair, feeling sad.
“This is your destiny, to join us.” Aunt Kate waved the remote at the screen. “Your abilities cannot be contained, so they must be trained.” I absently noted she had made a rhyme.
“Hey, I’ve been fine for years. No abilities here.” I held up my hands and waved them in the air. “The bank robbery was a one time event. I’ll be going back to my regularly scheduled normal life now.”
“No!” Aunt Kate slapped down the remote. “You are either being purposely dense or very stubborn. Your natural abilities have manifested. You are no longer dormant. You are like an undirected laser, a danger to us all, until you are properly trained.”
“No!” I snapped back, standing up to face her. “I told you before. I don’t want to be a supernormal. I just want to be left alone to live like a normal person.” I slammed my fist on the heavy wooden table in front of me. With a crack, the table split in two and collapsed with a thud. Aunt Kate and I both jumped back from the falling table halves.
“Oh man.” I put my hands over my face and slumped down on the couch in defeat. “This is just going to keep happening isn’t it?” I said, my voice muffled by my hands.
Aunt Kate sat beside me, putting an arm around my shoulders. “Yes.”
We sat in silence for a moment before I sighed and lifted my head. Strangely, I felt as clear-headed as I had when I accepted my abilities during the bank robbery. Not wanting to be a supernormal wasn’t going to stop my abilities from leaking out. Maybe with training I could control them enough to be as normal as possible.
“Okay, what do I have to do to control this mess?”
Aunt Kate nodded once and stood up. “Meet me here at 9 a.m. tomorrow. Dan runs the training program, and he’s anxious to see what you can do.”
And just like that, I felt lead in my stomach again. “Will the cousins be here?”
One of my least favorite memories was Emma pouting because she’d overheard my mother and Uncle Dan discussing how they both thought I had the strongest potential in my generation. I had a sinking feeling suppressing my abilities for seven years had killed that potential.
As if she knew what I was thinking, Aunt Kate regarded me with sympathy. “No, they won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay, good, that’s good.” I got to my feet, rubbing my hands on my jeans. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later.” I stuck my hands in my pockets.
“Olivia, Emily was so proud of you,” Aunt Kate said, using my mother’s name for the first time. I looked at her, my throat tightenin
g with emotion. “She used to talk about how she would train you when you came of age,” she said earnestly. “What I mean to say is, she wanted this life for you.”
I looked around the warehouse and then back at Aunt Kate. “Well, that was before she got killed by this life.”
Chapter 6
Dad was asleep when I came in. The entire meeting with Aunt Kate had only taken an hour, door to door. I slipped up the stairs, careful not to walk too loudly – a challenge in our old, creaky house. A shadow at the top of the stairs shifted to reveal Boo Radley. She rose from her crouch and stretch-walked to me, dipping her head for me to pet her. She followed me to my room, purring as if I’d been gone for days.
While Boo jumped on the bed and padded around to find the perfect spot to curl up, I changed into pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. After I tossed my clothes in the laundry hamper, I sat on my bed, holding the cuff bracelet I’d worn during the bank robbery. My fingers found the divot I’d pushed in to make everyone think the bracelet had stopped the bullet. Boo butted my arm, so I gave her a head rub. There wasn’t a mark on my hand to show where the bullet had hit. I rubbed my forehead with a sigh, pulled my legs up, and wrapped my arms around my shins. I rested my chin on my knees, twirling the cuff in one hand. I thought about the two men who died in the robbery before I found the guts to stop it. What was worse? Waiting too long to resurrect my abilities or having resurrected them at all? I know the people who survived the robbery would say it was good I’d used my abilities, but in the long run … I wasn’t so sure.
I set down the cuff on my bedside table and got under the covers with Boo curling up beside me. I needed a good night’s sleep to be ready for Uncle Dan’s test, but my mind wouldn’t turn off. Was Jack so mad at me that he wouldn’t speak to me? And interlaced with that worry, I wondered what tests Uncle Dan was going to put me through. Endurance tests? Strength tests? How does one assess supernormal skills? Would I have a test involving that weird tank in the middle of the warehouse? Would I have to play laser tag against someone?
The Supernormal Legacy (Book 1): Dormant Page 4
