Ryder returned with the water in a beat-up orange bucket. It sloshed mightily as he ran.
Powell dumped the cold river water over my head. I spluttered as it hit me, making the cool night much worse. “We need a good connection, so you really feel it.”
He tore my shirt open and jabbed me with the live ends of the cable. Pain coursed through my body. I think I pissed myself, but I was soaking wet, so I couldn’t tell. He let me hang for a second before he touched me again. This time, he left them on longer. The pain was incredible. I tried to scream, but only a hoarse, animal sound came out.
I could hear my friends screaming for him to stop, but the pain kept on. I writhed like a puppet on a string, dancing to some lunatic’s commands.
The pain stopped abruptly. I panted, trying to catch my breath. I could taste blood in my mouth from where I had bitten my tongue. Another bucket of water washed over me. The pain flared at the cold touch, but afterward, it numbed my skin to the pain.
“Not so tough now?” Powell mocked me as I limply hung from the ropes. “I’m going to finish with your face, same way your daddy did to me, so they’ll see the burns on your body. You want to beg for your life?”
Powell floated before my unfocused eyes. He smiled at me, waiting for me to beg. He leaned closer, so I spit blood in his face. “Go to hell,” I croaked out through my torn lips and swollen tongue.
“It’s a shame you’re a Slag. You would have made a fine soldier, Ward.”
A clamp attached to my right ear. I could smell the ozone coming off the clamp as he waved it in front of my face. Without warning, the second clamp was pushed into my cheek.
The world went completely white for me. The pain faded away. The energy balled itself up in my chest, growing stronger as the electricity pumped into me. It kept growing, threatening to blow me apart.
“Why isn’t he burning?” I heard Powell yell. “Give it more gas.”
The engine revved, and the power flowed into me faster, coiling around me, twining around me, a living thing, searching for a way out. I screamed, a mixture of agony and ecstasy as the power coursed through me. Just when I couldn’t hold anymore, my collar shattered, glistening shards of silver tinkling to the ground around me.
The power unleashed a super-nova. The truck exploded in the backlash, shredding the engine. A pulse of pure energy erupted from me, a shockwave tearing across the clearing. It knocked Powell and everyone standing to the ground.
The ropes burned away. The power still flared within me. Ryder and Clint bolted for the trees. I couldn’t let them go; they would bring the Reclaimers. This ended tonight. The raging torrent coalesced at my command into twin arcs of lightning. They streaked from my hand, incinerating them before they reached the edge of the clearing. My animal brain snarled its approval as I destroyed the threats to my pack. Powell got to his feet, pistol in his hand. I pushed at him with two hands, the jet of lightning launched him out of the clearing, toward the river.
Brunner staggered away from the burning wreckage of his truck. He stopped as I approached him. Energy crackled from every pore of my body. I held up my hand, watching the ribbons of energy leaping from finger to finger.
“Tommy, please,” Brunner stuttered. Then he gasped and fell to the ground, his knife sticking out of the center of his back.
Wendi stood over his limp body, glaring down at him. “See what please gets you?”
19
Wendi sagged to the ground crying. I wanted to comfort her, but arcs of electricity skittered around me like fireworks on Reclamation Day.
Marcel and Abby helped Jon over to where we were. He already looked better than earlier though still worse for wear.
Waxenby sprang into action. “Marcel, find me a cell phone that isn’t one of ours. Jon sit down on the stump there. I’ll check your wounds in a minute.” He motioned for Abby to join us. “Abby, can you tend to Wendi? She’s been through an ordeal today. I…” He paused, his voice becoming less firm, less confident. “I don’t think she can handle a male near her right now.”
Abby nodded. She glanced over to where Wendi sat staring at Brunner’s corpse. “I’ll see what I can do.” Wendi flinched when Abby placed her hand on her shoulder. She gently led Wendi to the other side of the fire. I could barely hear Wendi’s sobs as she clung to Abby.
Marcel arrived with a phone in hand. “It’s a bit scorched, but it still works. Could you use mine? It has much better signal strength out here.”
“No, we don’t want any calls traced out here,” Waxenby said as he started to make a call. “Collect everyone’s cell phones. We need to destroy them.” He tossed his own phone to Marcel, who promptly dropped it.
“What?” Marcel said, shock and outrage on his face. Even after being captured and almost killed, the geek in Marcel still shined through. “I just got a Droid Universe. I saved three months of stipend to get it.”
Waxenby paused dialing, sighing. “Marcel, they have GPS devices in them. If the Reclaimers track the signal, they’ll be able to tell where we are. Do you want to answer for the deaths of Powell and three Norms?”
The color drained out of Marcel’s face. “I’ll get the phones.”
Waxenby finished making his call, moving away from me. I guess all charged up I was causing interference. “Mr. Wizard, I need a book.”
I could hear a voice from the phone, but not enough to tell who it could be.
“This is Bean, and there’s been a problem. I’ve got to get a book from the library.”
After a pause, he listened to whoever spoke on the other end. “Oberon?” After another pause, he said, “Okay, you’ll need to grab Miss America. She’s not safe.” He ended the call and turned off the phone, sticking it in his pocket.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
Waxenby peered around the clearing. “Getting orders. We aren’t safe here. I’m taking you to a hideaway, so to speak.”
“What the hell is Oberon? I want to go home,” I blurted out.
He chuckled. “No, Oberon is the code name for the safe house. We need to find Powell’s body and destroy the evidence.”
The side effect of crackling with energy is you glow. In essence, I became a human flashlight. We scoured the riverbanks, but after a half an hour, the only thing we found was Powell’s Black Chevy Yukon parked on the utility road down by the river.
Waxenby pulled a heavy-duty flashlight out of the SUV, and we continued the search. With the steady light, we found small parts of Powell. Waxenby pitched them into the river with a flicker of gravity. At last, we found one of Powell’s arms with the shoulder still attached. It smelled of burnt meat. I threw up as Waxenby encased it in the bubble floating behind us like a goldfish in a bag from the fair.
Waxenby continued to survey the area, but there weren’t any other large chunks to see. “We’d probably find more during the day, but we’ve taken too long already. The rest of him must have landed in the river. Let’s get back.”
The floating piece of Powell followed us to the SUV. The navy blue uniform sleeve still held the Reclaimers insignia on his wrist. It gleamed in the orb’s glow. The blue bubble, a space-age luggage carrier sitting on the roof as we drove, proved Waxenby’s ability to multitask. I doubt Salvador Dali could come up with a more surreal portrait.
We loaded Powell’s remains, Brunner’s dead body, and our phones into the truck. Waxenby took the rest to Powell’s SUV. With everyone gone, the only sound was the crackle of the fire. I still couldn’t believe I’d broken free of the collar that had marked me for most of my life, but there was a cost. I’d killed three people in the process.
“Tommy,” Waxenby said from beside me. “You’ve got to burn the truck and the bodies. We can’t leave any evidence.”
I held up my hands, and the energy still flickered, but I could feel it receding. “What do you want me to do?”
“Start the energy flowing into the truck.” He flexed his arms as he talked. I guess he was still sore from bei
ng tied up. “Go until I tell you to stop.”
The power surged down my arms, out my hands, and into the truck. My hands felt burnt from the raw energy leaving my skin. The ecstasy offset the pain, which amplified as I pumped more through my hands. I caught a whiff of burning flesh. Brunner’s last chance to bother me would be the stench he left behind.
The truck burned, the energy feeding its devouring destruction, erasing all signs we had been here. I noticed a blue dome form over the truck, so it appeared to be encased in glass. I saw Waxenby out of the corner of my eye, hands outstretched toward the flames, sweat beading on his brow. He used his Gift to contain the fire.
“Keep going,” he said through gritted teeth.
I pressed as hard as I could. The truck and its contents melted into the soil, compressed by the blue globe. Unbearable pain curled my hands into fists.
“Stop!” Waxenby shouted. I let go of the power. I felt totally drained and in need of a nap. The spot where the truck and its grisly contents has stood showed a scorched patch of earth. A good rain and all the evidence would be gone.
I sat down on the stump we all had been using, panting from the exertion, hands throbbing and burnt. Waxenby smiled the same way Marcel did when he got new geek gear. “Gift. How?” I said, too tired to care if I sounded like a Neanderthal.
Waxenby gingerly picked up my hands and examined them. I could see some of the skin had blistered from the electricity flowing out of me. “Let’s get your hands in some water, then we’ll talk.”
He grabbed the bucket that an hour ago was a part of my torture and led me to the riverbank. He drew water and placed my hands into it. I swear they hissed with relief.
“During the fight, a burst of energy erupted from you. The closest thing I can say was it reminded me of an eruption.” He rubbed his chin. “It must have shorted out the collars because they all popped open, and my Gift returned. Abby had snapped her ropes, so I made a force knife and freed Marcel. We had to carry Jon until he regained consciousness. Wendi stood too close to the fight for us to chance it. An amazing display of pyrotechnics to be sure.”
I just nodded. I was too tired and a bit overwhelmed by the whole thing. After a few minutes, Waxenby took me to the SUV and put me and the bucket in the rear hatch where I promptly fell asleep. Who says the Gifted don’t know how to party?
I don’t know how long I slept, but when I woke, it was in a cot, not the trunk of the SUV. My head let loose a low-grade roar as I sat up. I dropped my legs over the side of the cot, forced myself to stand, and stumbled a bit toward the light coming from under the door.
I opened the door a crack to let my eyes adjust to the light as much as to figure out where I was. I saw the back of Marcel’s head sitting at a cafeteria-style foldout table. I opened the door wider, cringing as my eyes screamed in protest at the light flooding in.
“Why, good morning, Princess,” Blaze’s voice came from across the room. Everyone turned to stare at me as I tottered into the room. Marcel jumped up and helped me into a chair. One of the many reasons he’s my best friend.
“Where are we?”
“Let’s just say we are at a friend’s house.” Waxenby set his coffee cup down. “Or if it makes you feel better, this is Oberon.”
The room could have fallen out of the 1970s. A green stove and beat-up fridge were situated on the far side, flanked by orange counter tops and bright yellow cabinets. I seriously wished I had colorblindness at the moment.
“Well, it’s better than the alternative,” Marcel said.
I shot him a quick smile. Jon appeared surly as always, hunched over the table. I started a bit when I realized the girls weren’t here.
The click of another door opening caught my attention.
“I thought I heard you were up.” Mom came at me faster than was necessary, but I grabbed her in a hug anyway. As uncool as it is to admit, sometimes a guy just needs his mom.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
She pushed me back, locking my eyes. “Tommy, this isn’t your fault.” I could see her fury, but not at me. “Powell’s a psycho. He could have killed all of you.”
I nodded. Words wouldn’t come out. I saw Abby and Wendi by the door. I went to hug Wendi, but she pulled away, tears streaming down her face. She fled back into the room and slammed the door.
“What did I do?”
“Nothing,” Abby growled. “She had a really bad time yesterday.” She opened the door and closed it quietly behind her.
Mom slid her arm around my waist. “Wendi’s going to need some time, Tommy. You’re going to have to be patient.”
Then I remembered Waxenby’s words from the clearing and felt like a moron. Mom had represented some Gifted women after they had lived through some bad stuff back when I was thirteen, and she had explained a bit, what I could handle at the time. I was going to need another conversation.
Jon’s eyes stabbed into me with accusations. Rage contorted his features. “This is all your fault, Ward. I told you to stay away from Wendi.”
“You would be dead if not for Tommy,” Marcel said. “He even got rid of your collar, and all he gets is crap from you?”
Waxenby stood. “Enough. Jon, we’ve talked about it. Brunner hassled Wendi long before she spent any time with Tommy. You told me so yourself.”
Jon stared at the floor, unwilling to meet Waxenby’s eyes. “Sorry, Tommy.” His words were almost too soft to hear. “I could never forgive myself if anything ever happened to her.”
“Me too.”
“Okay, if everybody is cool, we need to discuss the plan.” Blaze turned to Mom. “Susan, I know the score, but we need the girls. Everyone has to be on the same page.”
She excused herself. A few minutes later, the three sat at the end of the table. I tried to keep from staring at Wendi, but I couldn’t help myself. She appeared as fragile as a china doll, a stark contrast to her killing Brunner with his own knife. She caught my eye for a second, but I couldn’t decipher what it meant.
“Okay, dudes. We already covered your tracks, the best we could in such a short time. It’s been twenty-four hours since school ended yesterday. Officials are searching for Powell, his three pets, and the four of you. Good work on hacking Powell’s email, Marcel.”
Marcel smiled like a happy puppy. “Just thought it was best.”
“It saved us,” Blaze remarked. “Susan called Tommy in to the police as a missing child, and Oliver is AWOL.”
“I’m a rebel,” Waxenby chuckled.
Blaze snorted a laugh. “Once again, Marcel has been a great help. When the Reclaimers went to Powell’s this morning, there were emails back and forth between him and Brunner about killing the six of you and dumping your bodies. Marcel, you are a handy dude to know.”
“No problem, glad to help.” Marcel beamed with pride.
“Susan is heading back to Redemption to do her legal thing as a frightened mother.”
She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “Don’t need to be an actress to pull that one off.”
“Oliver is going to take the rest of you dudes to Dresden,” Blaze said.
“Ohio?” Marcel blurted out.
“No, Dresden is an old League of Patriots safe house.” He paused. “Well, more like a safe fortress, but you can lay low there. There is one more issue.”
“What issue?” Abby asked. Her tone bordered on hostile, which in past experience meant she was upset, and, frankly, after the last twenty-four hours, who could blame her?
Blaze held up a thin silver strip. “I need to suppress your Gifts.”
The room erupted in chaos.
20
Everyone was shouting, and to my surprise, so was I. We had just gotten out of the collars and Blaze wanted to put us back in. No way.
“Whoa, dudes,” Blaze held up his hands, surrendering before the onslaught of teen angst. “They are bracelets, and you can take them off.”
Somewhat mollified, we sat down so he could explain.
>
“Oliver is the only one who knows what and how to use their Gift,” he said.
I heard Abby mumble, “I can use mine.” Her low voice sounded disheartened by the fact. I didn’t get a chance to ask before Jon butted in.
“Tommy can blow shit up,” Jon said dismissively.
I grimaced. Another glorious screw-up by Tommy Ward. Mom was seriously going to kill me.
Waxenby shook his head slowly. “I’m not so sure, Jon. The way it happened could have something to do with how his Gift manifested itself.”
“Regardless,” Blaze continued, dragging the conversation back on track. “None of you know what your Gift is yet. Dresden will help you discover your powers, but until you are safely hidden, we don’t need anyone bursting into flame or sneezing acid all over the place.”
“But what if we need to fight?” Abby asked.
“Then pull the bracelet off and hope your Gift kicks in before they take you down.”
“They wouldn’t stand a chance.” Abby’s look of playful malice played across her features. She scared me.
We quickly packed what little we had and headed for our escape vehicle. I’d been asleep when we arrived in the dark. Turns out Oberon is part of a trucking company near Great Falls. I doubt the Norms who work there had any idea they doubled as a front for a Gifted safe house.
We waited until after hours to load the van to make the thirteen-hour trip to Dresden. Mom stood near the Mom-mobile as the others climbed into the Midville Driving Academy van.
“Tommy, I wanted to talk to you for a minute before you go,” she said.
I hung my head. “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have gone after Wendi myself.”
“Tommy, if you hadn’t, Wendi and most likely all of you would be dead. I am proud of you. You put yourself in harm’s way to protect Wendi.”
I couldn’t bring myself to tell her I panicked. I wasn’t the brave guy who stood up to evil and didn’t flinch. I’d peed myself when they touched me with the cables.
Storm Forged Page 15
