by Dee J. Stone
Samson lifts his hand to the window and touches the glass.
“We don’t have any other options, Sam,” Cindy says.
He faces her. “There’s always hope for another cure. What if it kills him?”
Cindy’s breathing escalates. Her eyes stare ahead as though she’s considering that possibility. After a bit, she says, “He doesn’t have much time left as it is. We have nothing to lose.”
She and Samson stare at each other for a little while. Seems like they’re exchanging telepathic messages. Arguing.
Scar says, The best option for your son is to take the cure. Then you must destroy it and safeguard the formula. You will need it in the future.
Samson’s gaze moves from Scar to his wife. She nods, her face shining with hope. Samson sighs. “We understand the consequences of exposing this antidote.” He walks over to Cindy and draws her into his arms. “Alright. Let’s try. Then we’ll destroy it and make sure Vlayne never gets her hands on it.” He looks at Scar. “How exactly do we…?”
Scar sweeps his hand toward me. Ray is the only one with the ability to retrieve the formula. Unfortunately, he has had no practice and doesn’t have the knowledge to uncover it.
“Teach him,” Cindy says. “We’re running out of time.”
Scar’s eyes harden. I will not be part of this. I only accompanied Ray here to inform you of his wishes. I will take my leave now.
“Scar,” I plead.
You do not require my assistance. Good luck.
He exits the room, and we make no move to stop him. Samson and Cindy know just as well as I do that once Scar makes up his mind there’s no changing it.
Cindy heads over to me and touches my shoulder. “I’ll help you.” She drags her chair closer to mine and sits down. She takes my hands. Hers are colder than ice.
She closes her eyes, her grip on my hands tightening. A light shines in my eyes and I shut them tight. When I open them, I’m no longer in Samson’s office, but in a dark hallway. Doors are lined up to my right and left. As I squint further down, I see many more doors. Using my power, I try to look into the rooms, but my x-ray vision doesn’t seem to work.
Someone is on my right. Turning around, I discover Cindy. “Where are we?” I ask.
“In your mind.”
I survey the area. This is in my head?
“Behind these doors are your memories,” she says, walking over to the closest door and opening it. Samson, Cindy, and I are sitting in Samson’s office. My memories from a few minutes ago.
She shuts the door. “The closer the room, the more recent the memory,” she explains.
I nod. “The formula would have to be further down, since it was placed in my mind when I was a baby.”
“Yes, but it won’t be that simple.”
I turn to her.
“Some of these rooms have doors which lead to other doors,” she says. “Since memories connect, overlap, cross paths, they will be mixed together. Scar hid the formula well. We may need to search each room.”
“I can’t use my vision.”
“No.” She heads toward another door.
“Should we separate?” I ask.
“I’m afraid you might get lost or trapped in your own mind. I don’t know what we’ll encounter and I’d like for us to work together.”
I nod and follow her through the first few rooms, all which contain recent memories. The sewers with Scar, Phase, and the others. My throwing beer bottles against the wall. Cindy watches all this, but doesn’t say a word. We reach other rooms within those rooms. These show more memories of my year in the sewers when I was twelve. I was stealing and doing drugs. So very messed up.
Cindy pats my shoulder. “You’ve come a long way.” She gives me an encouraging smile. “Let’s try the doors further down,” she says, and we return to the hallway.
We open doors which display memories of the past few months. My hunting. Glen’s death. Kale and I discovering the Black Nightmares. The two of us conspiring with Lindsay and Stealth. Stealth on her missions. She and me on my bed, talking and laughing. Our mouths pressed together, our hands exploring.
I stare at the former me for a bit. Glen’s death broke me, but I learned to not let it hold me back. I was full of emotion—hope for revenge, a closer friendship with Kale, love for a girl who ended up being nothing more than a fraud. The last few memories need to be erased.
Except, I don’t want them to be erased. Not really.
I back up. “No need to go further.”
Cindy nods.
My throat constricts as we pass through Stretch’s murder. His eyes were wide and terrified as Lightning stood before him, his hands raised to fire electricity at him. His body crashed to the floor, completely charred. Even though it’s only a memory, I can still smell the smoke and burnt flesh.
I stop and shut my eyes to rid the tears. These memories haunted me for months. I was getting over them, finally learning to cope. Seeing them now undoes all my progress.
“Ray.” Cindy rests her hand on my shoulder. “Do you need a minute?”
No. I don’t want to waste any more time. Kale needs this cure. I shake my head. Cindy gives my shoulder a squeeze and we move on to the inner door. Stretch, Kale, and I were at the sewers asking Scar to prove to Samson that the ShadowBlades planned to assassinate him.
We continue on. To memories before Kale saving the world. These are good. I forgot how kind Kale and Stretch were to include me in their activities.
Cindy stops before a room where she’s lying in the hospital, in a coma. A great mastermind trapped her in her mind. It was Kale—who had just gotten his telepathy—who rescued her. Cindy watches her family sit around her with their heads bent, their fingers clasped. I was at the doorway with Stretch and some of the other League members. The place was quiet.
Cindy shifts and smiles sadly. She places her hand on my arm. “Kale will be healed,” she assures me softly. “Just like I was.”
Hope so. I nod and we move on, passing through happy, sad, fun memories. As we walk deeper, the place grows darker. Eerie. A chill runs down my back as howling cold winds circle me. Cindy wraps her arms around herself.
These memories must be of my year living on the streets.
Cindy opens a door, and a strong gust of wind knocks into us, followed by loud shouting. Eleven-year-old me was surrounded by the group of guys I was living with. They were cursing, beating me up. I swallow, my gaze locked onto the images playing before me. Telling Stealth about this was hard, but seeing it, reliving it, is something completely different. Every punch, every bash, feels like it’s happening to me right now.
Cindy pulls me out and shuts the door after her. With her hand on mine, she leads me further down, ignoring the other rooms of this moment in my life. But as we pass through the hall, the doors burst open and more wind and howls attack our ears. We’re being sucked into one of the rooms. The door slams behind us as the memory fills the room.
I was on the streets, alone in some alley. Moments after I ran away from home. It was a dark, cold, rainy night. I sat huddled under a pile of cardboard, shivering, hugging my knees to my chest. A part of me regretted my decision to run away from home, while the other stood firmly behind my choice. My body begged for warmth. And food.
Sleep didn’t come, but when it finally did, I was woken up by shouts. Squinting through the rain, I made out three guys. One had a knife in his hand and was threatening another guy. After a few more shouts, the guy stabbed the third man a few times before chucking his body to the floor.
I was trembling so hard that the cardboard over me shifted, attracting unwanted attention. The one with the knife grabbed me, holding the blade against my neck. Tears splashed down my cheeks and my heart was about to burst out of my chest.
“Leave him,” the guy without the knife said.
The guy holding me gave me such a fierce glare it felt like his eyes cut through me. “He’s seen too much.”
“He’s just a kid.�
�
The guy’s eyes narrowed. “You talk, kid, you die.” He shoved me aside, and the two of them dashed away. I stared at the dead, bloody body, my chest heaving. I scrambled to my feet and fled the area.
The memory restarts.
I run out of the room and slump against the wall. “I’m trying to be strong, but I can’t do this.”
Cindy crouches down near me. “I’m sorry you had to experience that again. Are you okay? Take some time to relax, and we’ll move on to another area.”
I inhale and exhale through my nose, feeling my body calm down. I would like to have a minute to compose myself, but we can’t waste time. I need to do this.
I get to my feet. “I’ll be fine. Kale needs us.”
With my teeth and fists clenched, and my heart beating rapidly, we trudge through the darkness and enter a room which contains many inner doors. These are my memories of my adoptive parents. One door leads to my memories of the orphanage. It seems like I was treated well. Walking deeper inside, we reach a large barricaded door. I raise my eyebrows to Cindy.
Her gaze travels around the door. “These are your repressed memories.”
I step closer to the door and finger the silver lock and chain. “How do we open it?”
“You need to will your mind to allow us access.”
I stare at the door. What lies inside? What terrible things have I repressed?
Cindy’s hand is on my back. “I’m almost positive this is the room that leads to the formula. I’m sorry. Had I known we had to look for a locked door, I wouldn’t have put you through all of that.”
“It’s okay.”
Her hand tightens. “Whatever is in there, you need to face it.”
I nod.
“Are you ready?” she asks.
Closing my eyes, I steady my breathing and order my mind to let me in. Slowly, the chains loosen and the lock disappears. I twist the knob and enter the room.
Chapter Thirty-One
A man and woman were making breakfast in the kitchen. I recognize them as my real parents. My mother laughed as my dad wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck. Then they kissed.
I was a baby, sitting in my high chair at the kitchen table. Munching on my cereal, I giggled as I watched them.
My mother’s eyes moved to me and she bent down toward me. “Jericho.” She pressed her cheek to mine. “You love watching mommy and daddy kiss, don’t you?”
All I did was giggle some more. My mother laughed and kissed my cheek.
“Annie,” my father said, his head raised toward the light. They flickered.
My mother trembled. I kept my gaze on the two of them as they whispered frantically. A minute later, the door flew open and a woman dressed in a red and orange mask and uniform stepped inside.
Vlayne.
Even as a baby, I knew something terrible was going on. But I didn’t make a sound. Only watched.
“You did this to him!” she roared, stomping over to where my parents were wrapped in each other’s arms.
“No, Vlayne, listen—”
“I’m done listening to you!”
ShadowBlades entered the house and destroyed the lab with fire, ice, lasers, and explosives. My parents were yelling, trying to reason with her, but Vlayne wouldn’t listen. When everything was decimated, the Blades rushed out.
“Please,” my mother said. “I have—”
But before my mother could finish her sentence, Vlayne pried my parents apart, shoving my father to the floor and narrowing her eyes at him. She was using her telepathy to kill him. A second later, he started yelling and writhing, clutching his head.
My mother shouted words I couldn’t understand.
When my father was no longer moving, Vlayne’s head snapped to my mother, who was backing up, only to hit the wall behind her.
“Vlayne, please—”
Vlayne stood over my mother. My mom’s gaze flitted to me before moving to Vlayne. Vlayne’s eyes narrowed. Her lips pressed together. My mom slumped to the floor.
I had been crying during this, but Vlayne didn’t seem to hear me, or was too preoccupied to care. As the house grew quiet, my cries permeated throughout, causing Vlayne’s gaze to dart to me. She marched over to the table, her eyes dark and possessed. Ready to kill me next.
She stared at me for a while, her forehead wrinkled as though she were fighting an inner battle. After a minute, she blinked, stared at me for a little longer, and withdrew from the table.
She stormed out of the house, leaving me screeching with no one to comfort me.
The memory ends here. I swallow hard. I just witnessed my parents’ murder. It’s not something I want to remember, and I understand why I repressed it. I can’t believe I was there and saw the whole thing.
I stare at the floor, my body trembling. Sweat breaks out on my forehead, and I swipe it away.
Cindy touches my arm. “Are you okay?”
I nod, even though I’m not.
Despite how difficult this is, I need to trudge on. For Kale’s sake.
Taking a deep breath, I walk into the next room, where the memory continues.
Scar rushed into my house and looked around. Devastation and grief entered his eyes as he took in the unconscious bodies.
“Sebastian,” my mother said, her voice weak as she stretched her hand to reach up to him. He fell to his knees and took her into his arms. I could see him scanning her thoughts to learn what happened.
Next is everything Scar told me. My mom asked him to take the formula. He refused. She begged him to hide it in my head. He finally agreed.
The memory ends with her death and Scar crying over her with me in his arms. I’ll take care of him, he promised. I’ll watch over Jericho.
I look at Cindy, who’s standing beside me. She peers into the next room and her eyes widen. I follow her gaze into a large, white room with only one thing floating in the center.
A chemical formula.
Cindy and I exchange a glance before we rush inside. We move closer, until we’re only a few feet away. Suddenly, something shoots out and slams into Cindy, latching onto her chest, electrocuting her. Her body quivers and she crashes to the floor. The formula is now surrounded by what look like tentacles. They’re scaly and green, about twenty feet long, and they whip around.
I dash over to her. “Cindy?” I whisper. Her body doesn’t seem to be burned and as I press my fingers to her wrist, I feel her pulse.
She’s not dead.
Her body moves as she squints up at me. “Ray, I can’t go any further.” She tries to sit up, and I help her, but she’s too weak. “This is where you release the formula,” she explains. “You need to kill those things and reveal it. Only you can do it.”
I stare at the tentacles. Electricity runs across them.
Cindy touches my arm. “They won’t attack you.”
I don’t know how to kill them, but I’ll die trying. I nod to Cindy. “I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. “For everything.”
I shake my head. “It’s me who should be thanking you for everything you and Samson have done for me.”
She smiles a little, patting my hand.
I get to my feet and head toward the tentacles. They move around as I get closer, but they don’t attack me. Raising my hands, I try to force them away to expose the formula, but they’re too strong and throw me a few feet back.
Cindy said I need to kill them. I search around for a weapon, but can’t find any. I need a sword, or knife. But where do I…?
The guy with the knife from my memories. I go to Cindy, who’s resting against the wall. “Cindy, I need to get something from another room. You’re going to be okay here?”
She nods. “As long as I don’t get too close to those things, they shouldn’t hurt me.”
I nod. “I’ll be quick.”
The last thing I want to do is walk through the dark hallway, but I need to get this knife. It’s the only thing sharp en
ough to slice through the tentacles.
As I return to the shadowy hall, yells and winds attack me, but I push all that away and focus on locating the room with the memory I need. Luckily, I remember clearly which doors we opened and I find it faster than I thought.
As the guy with the knife raises the blade to kill, I leap forward and grab it out of his hand. An identical knife appears and he stabs the other guy.
Watching it another time isn’t any easier. I turn my head and dart away before I see him grab my terrified eleven-year-old self.
I scurry toward the locked door, through the rooms, and enter the large one. Cindy glances at the knife in my hand.
“Be careful,” she tells me.
I nod.
I head toward the center of the room, lift the knife, and slash one of the tentacles. It lets out a small shriek before shriveling up and dropping to the floor. A bright glow from the formula nearly blinds me. Shielding my face with my arm, I work on cutting through the other tentacles. One by one, they fall to the floor until the entire formula is revealed.
With my eyes burning due to the light, I gawk at the chemical formula. It looks like something from an organic chemistry book. I don’t understand any of it, but something glimmers inside me. Hope.
Footsteps are behind me. I turn around and find Cindy ambling toward me, beaming. “You did it.”
I run over to help her, and we move closer to the formula.
“That’s really impressive,” she says, her gaze roving around it.
I nod as another thing shines inside me. Pride, I think. That my mother created this. She may be dead, but if not for her we wouldn’t have this today and would have no means to save my best friend.
“What do we do now?” I ask.
“Nothing. The formula is no longer hidden. I need to get out of here, take it from your mind and place it in Brain’s. Hopefully he’ll be able to recreate the antidote.”
I nod again.
“We’d better hurry,” Cindy says. “The formula is exposed now. Any telepath can grab it. Even though Scar’s protecting your mind, I don’t want to take that chance.” She pulls me into her arms. “You did great, Ray.”
