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The Distort Arc: Cape High Books 1-4 (Cape High Series Omnibus)

Page 10

by R. J. Ross


  But how a lady like that knew Death Row, he still wonders. Probably because she was like Zoe is--just older, right? No ordinary person has glowing eyes, he decides as he heads for the gas station next to the highway to get a ride from a friend. Soon he's downtown in the middle of the day, heading down the street for Death Row with the card held tightly in one hand.

  The building he comes to looks abandoned. There's boards in the windows and broken glass on the ground. He looks up at the two story building, wondering once again if the lady is still even there, then steps forward, knocking twice. When no one answers he tries the knob.

  The door swings open.

  "I was wondering when you would come, boy."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I find myself lost. I'm not even sure I'm still in the same state, honestly. There's desert all around, which isn't nearly as nerve-wracking as the fact that I suddenly feel completely and totally alone. I look around, trying to see what direction I came from. "Good going, Zoe," I mutter, hugging myself even though its hot out here. Where are the deserts in America? There's one next to Las Vegas, right? And there's desert... um... in New Mexico, right? So sue me, I never paid much attention in geography. That is definitely going to change when... if I get back.

  I can run, I think. If I find civilization I'll be able to ask someone where I am. Can't you just see it, though? "Hi, my name's Zoe--can you tell me what state I'm in?" Yeah, no, that's not going to happen. I'd wind up on a lost child news report or something, then--oh, it gets worse--my Dad would have to pick me up. Maybe I could buy a map somewhere.

  You know, you don't really get these kind of problems when you're a normal teen. Normal teens don't go for a run and wind up in a different state--with no clue which one it is. I sigh and start walking, kicking a stone and watching it fly over the horizon like a football over the goal. Maybe if I could fly I could go high enough to get an idea of where I'm at.

  I start running and jump into the air, hoping that it'll get me into the sky--and promptly fall flat on my face. I shove myself to my feet, run a few more steps--jump--and promptly fall again. Ouch.

  "You okay?" a familiar voice asks from above. Familiar, but not exactly right, I find myself thinking as I look up. The sun is behind him, but I can tell the body shape--

  "D--Dad?" I say. Again I said that word, but--

  "I'm your dad?" the voice asks as the floating man drops down on the ground. He moves like Technico, I notice--but his hair is the exact opposite. Where it should be black, I notice a bit numbly, it's white. Where it should be white, it's black. "I didn't know that," the man says. "Hi." As soon as his feet hit the ground, I can feel the world warp around me.

  The sky, once blue, now looks red. The sun, once yellow, is black as night, and the tan desert that spreads out under my feet is white as bone. A pressure is surrounding me, twisting at my nerves. All of a sudden I feel a bit sick to my stomach--and want nothing more than to run away as fast as I can. It seems worse, though, because he looks so much like that man who made me pancakes this morning.

  "Um... you're not my dad," I say, taking a step back. "You just... ah... remind me of him?"

  "Your dad can fly?" he asks. There's something almost childlike to his tone. It's a bit hard for my mind to take in.

  "Um, yeah. My dad's a super," I admit, since it's pretty obvious by this point. He grins, revealing a perfect set of teeth and dimples.

  "That's nice."

  "Um... can you help me?" I ask. "I need to know which way is Kansas City."

  "You come from Kansas?" he asks.

  "Yeah... sort of." Not really. I'm from Missouri, but I'd rather not tell this guy my address. There's something really off-putting about an anti-Dad, or whatever this guy is.

  "Then you need to go Northeast," he says, pointing behind me. "And straight forward. You'll find it soon!"

  "Oh, okay, um, thanks," I say as I take a step back. Then another. When he makes no move to follow me I turn and race away. It's almost a mile before the world's color reverts back to normal. It's all the way to Missouri before I lose a bit of the urge to throw up.

  I race right past the school and straight to Death Canyon where a building is going up in the center. There's other men there, most likely heroes or lackeys or--honestly right now I don't even care. I head straight for the one I want to see most, still going full speed as I slam into his arms, wrapping my own around his waist and, ah, well, crashing us both into a wall of concrete. Whoops.

  "What the hell, Zoe?" he demands, even as his arms wrap around me. The world isn't twisting, I think, holding on tightly. The world is still the right color. I can hear his heartbeat again, that easy, solid beat that's a bit faster than it was this morning. "What happened? Did someone attack you?" he asks, tugging me up so he can see me.

  We're being stared at. In fact a few people are cursing about the wall I've just busted up, while others are laughing for the same reason. I ignore it all. "Why didn't you tell me you had a twin?" I demand, now angry because the world is solid and I know where I stand again.

  "I don't," he says.

  "You--you don't?" I ask. Then I sit up, flushing as I realize I'm still on top of him. Our relationship is definitely not at the stage where tackle hugs are acceptable, okay? I get up, then shiver, hugging myself as I remember what just happened.

  "What happened?" he demands as he gets to his feet. "Did someone hurt you?" He doesn't know me, I remind myself, but it looks like he's about to go to war for me by the way he's stripping off his work gloves.

  "No--they didn't hurt me," I say, grabbing his arm. "Just--it just really freaked me out," I admit quietly. "The world... it warped. It's like the sky changed color--everything changed colors, and he was just there, smiling and offering directions--"

  "Who?"

  "You," I say. "But not you. He looked just like you, but different--I don't know, okay? He didn't do anything bad..." He hadn't, I realize. He hadn't done anything bad to me at all. He'd even helped me. I just don't know how to deal with...

  Him.

  "I'm... really confused right now, kiddo," Dad finally admits. "It was me, but not me, the world changed and he smiled?"

  "Yeah. I'm confused too," I admit.

  "So... this is your daughter?" a man asks. I turn, seeing a man in a T-shirt that says MEGA across the front. The ridiculousness of a super hero wearing his own name on a T-shirt escapes me until I figure out who he is. At least, I think he's Mega. He sure looks like a hero. He's tall, got broad shoulders, a square jaw--typical hero build.

  "Yeah. Zoe, this is Ken," Dad says, looking at the shirt as well. "Seriously, Ken, Mega?"

  "What? I got it for a buck at a consignment shop," he says. He looks sort of familiar, I think. Blonde hair, blue eyes--

  "What if Mega actually sees you wearing it? His ego's big enough already," Dad says, dragging me closer. "Zoe, this is America's Son--not Mega."

  "I thought America's Son was the guy that would arrest you," I say in a whisper.

  "Sure I would," Ken says. "I'm here to catch him if he makes a mistake."

  "Turns out that his day job is--"

  "Construction work?" I offer.

  "A preacher," Dad says, completely straight faced. "He's out to convert me."

  "I am," Ken says cheerfully. "And if it means breaking a bit of sweat along the way, it's fine. It's nice to meet you, Zoe." He holds out one huge hand and I look at him blankly for a moment before taking it.

  "Are you seriously a super hero preacher?" I ask after a second.

  "Yeah," he says. "I think you know my son, actually."

  "No way--Trent's a preacher's kid?" I ask, now realizing why he looks so familiar. They look almost as much alike as Dad and Sunny!

  "Don't remind him," Ken says. "He's gotten into a bit of trouble by that before. But aren't you supposed to be in school right now?"

  ... I am, aren't I? Er...

  "It's fine," Dad says. "I tried to talk her into skipping today, anyway."

&nbs
p; "You did, did you?" Ken says dryly.

  "She and her brother just came into their abilities," Dad says, not looking ashamed in the least. "So what happen? Go into the computer room after all?"

  "No," I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest and turning away. "I just didn't want to be there anymore. So I took a run."

  "And that's where you ran into the guy that looked like me?" Dad asks, moving closer. He's starting to loom, I think as he blocks out the sun a bit. I... am definitely not going to get used to that sensation. It's still pushy even if I'm related to the guy. So I give him a stubborn look and cross my arms over my chest. "You doubting me?" I ask.

  Dad looks at me blankly, then glances over at Ken, who is determinedly not paying attention--and clearly listening to everything really, really closely.

  "I'm not doubting you, but where were you when you ran into him?" Dad asks.

  "Oh... um... that way," I say, flushing brightly and pointing. "About, um... thirty minutes away at top speed?" I offer. "It looked like a desert," I add helpfully.

  "Your daughter ran across half the country in thirty minutes?" Ken asks, totally ruining his attempt to not pay attention.

  "Did Max say something?" Dad asks. "Call Double M, I'm going to kill his boy--"

  "Dad! You can't kill him!" I protest. "He's just a jerk--"

  "So he did say something!"

  "He told me that we shouldn't go back to school tomorrow! I only wanted to go back because of him--and here he's telling me not to--" I start pacing, then kick one of the fallen pieces of concrete, sending it flying a ways. "I'm giving up on boys!" I declare boldly.

  They ah... don't look very impressed, do they?

  "Well... kiddo, he's got a point," Dad says finally. "We'll have the new school up in a week or so--"

  "So you're dating Double M's kid?" Ken asks.

  "Yeah, she's got it bad," Dad explains.

  "I do not!" I protest. "He's a jerk who--who is way too arrogant and thinks he's always right--and he's wrong!" But it isn't just Max that's the problem, now is it? "Dad--how can a norm get powers?" I ask, turning on him.

  "What?"

  "If a guy says he can get super powers, is he lying? Or can it be done?" I demand.

  "Max's already got powers."

  "Not Max! Someone else. Can it really happen?"

  "Well... there's a theory among the villain group," Dad says slowly, sitting down on a metal beam, "that abilities are a gene--like eye color, hair color, that sort of thing. In some people it's not even in their genetic makeup. In others, it's possible, that it's a recessive gene."

  He glances at America's Son, as if wondering if he should go on in front of a hero type. "There's certain sciences... that people were working on back when I was in the field--not me, of course, I'm strictly machines--but they were attempting to make the recessive gene dominant. I haven't looked into how far they've gotten with altering genetics since I've gotten out."

  "It's gotten further," Ken says quietly. "I've ran into one or two failed attempts, actually. It's... disturbing."

  "But can it work?" I ask, picturing horrible things happening to Jack and feeling sick to my stomach again.

  "Possibly?" Ken says. "The last one I ran into was almost normal in appearance."

  I frown, not knowing what to do. "Who said it?" Dad asks, making me look over at him. "Who said something about getting powers?"

  "Jack," I say. "Jack said he could get powers."

  "Why?"

  "Because--because--I don't get him!" I pronounce, throwing my hands up in the air. "He claims he loves me, but he's nothing but a jerk to me, and I really, really can't stand him! He's a bully and he smokes and he's always mean to me--and everyone else! It'd serve him right if he got messed up--"

  "Then forget about it," Dad says. "Let him do what he wants."

  "What if it kills him?" I ask. "I didn't think it was possible, I mean--you're either born with them or some huge explosion happens or you get bit by some special animal--I didn't think you could actually go in for an appointment and come out a super!"

  "Most likely he won't," Dad says. "I doubt he'll actually do it. Why don't we get your brother out of school. Maybe Jack's back there."

  "Yeah... yeah, okay."

  "Before you go," Ken says, making me glance over. "Thank you."

  "For what?" I ask.

  "It's the first time in a while that Trent's come home from school without breaking something afterwards," he says seriously. I don't know how to respond to that, so I shrug--then yelp as Dad picks me up with one arm and takes to the sky. It's the first time I've ever flown. No, seriously, I've never been in an airplane--and this is definitely a lot less between me and the ground, I think as we head out of the canyon and through the sky.

  "Look," he says, as if carrying me in a princess hold is perfectly normal. "This kid--he's going to make his own decisions, and no matter what he told you, everything he's decided so far is nobody's fault but his own--well, other than the whole orphan thing. That's not his fault. But that doesn't give him the free pass to run off and do something stupid, understand?"

  I nod, still torn between looking down and not looking down. There's something utterly amazing about flying like this. I'm not nearly as scared of falling as I thought I'd be.

  "I know," I say. "But... I don't like him," I say honestly. "And that makes me feel even more guilty."

  "Because he likes you?" he asks. "It happens," he says as he lands among the trees outside the school. He puts me down on my feet. "Back to school, now."

  "What if Jack is gone?" I ask. "How do I tell you?"

  "Call me."

  "I don't have a phone," I say, giving him a dirty look.

  "Have Sunny call me. Or Max, or whoever."

  "What's your phone number?" I ask, digging through my pockets to try and find a pen, then realizing I don't have paper, either. "Do you have a pen?" I ask.

  He sighs, shaking his head. "Look, kiddo--I know you're worried about your friend, or enemy, or whatever he is, but I really want to see if I can find the bigger problem first. So why don't you tell Max about Jack? I need to go." And before I can protest, he's gone, flying away at a speed that takes my breath away, literally.

  I look at the school--then blink as Max appears right in front of me. "Where the heck have you been?" he demands. "Look, I know you're mad at me for some reason, but running off doesn't do you any good! You gotta tell me to my face what's wrong!"

  I've honestly never seen him this frustrated before. He almost looks panicked--no, it's not almost. There's honest worry and fear in his eyes and he keeps bringing his hands up, almost touching me, then bringing them down again as if he's not sure he should. "Please?"

  "I--I went for a run," I say, turning away from him. I don't know how to handle this reaction. I'm a bit thrown off by how raw he seems right now. Unconsciously I wrap my arms around myself. "Because--because the first thing I worried about when my dad showed up was not seeing--"

  Do I want him to know this? Do I want him to realize that I've got a crush on him already? Why am I so stupid as to fall for a guy I've only known three days? Was it like Jack said? Am I just looking for the first person to treat me decently?

  "Seeing?" he says. "Oh, man," he goes on, moving closer. He's standing behind me and I feel his fingers touch my left hand. "Hey... Zoe, the reason I don't want you coming here--it's not that I don't want to see you. I just... look, as soon as the new school starts up I'll be transferring to it, too. We'll be in school together every day, okay?"

  I don't want to take the hand he's offering, but I find my fingers closing around it. "You should have just said that instead of acting like a jerk," I mutter. "But I have no way of telling you things, or Trent, or--I didn't want you to worry, okay? You're the first friends Sunny and I have ever had." That's true--and doesn’t sound like some cheesy romance drama line. Okay... it sort of sounds like one, but it's not quite as bad.

  Wait... isn’t there something more important-
-but how will Max really take the idea of trying to save Jack? He’s already said he doesn’t like the guy. He’s even used his powers on him. I don’t--I mean, you can’t expect a super villain to go off saving the day, right? Especially when it’s a guy that they don’t even like! But--

  “You’ve really got to get that technopathy in check,” he says dryly. “I mean, seriously, you’d think you of all people would have a phone.”

  “We couldn’t afford a service even if I didn’t blow them up,” I say absently, trying to figure out how to talk him into saving Jack.

  “You wouldn’t need one, I bet. You could hack into the air waves or something, right?” he says. “It’s kind of irritating having to deal with your brother every time I want to talk to you, you know--“

  “So you don’t like Sunny?” I ask.

  “No! I like him just fine! I just... can’t really flirt when he’s glaring at me,” he mutters. “I mean, it’s a definite deterrent knowing if I screw up and say the wrong thing both of you will tackle me.”

  “Max, will you do something for me?” I ask abruptly, giving up on some sly scheme. I don’t know how much time I’ve got, honestly. I turn to him, looking into his eyes. “Even if it’s something you probably wouldn’t do by choice? I need to know, because otherwise I’m going to ask Trent--and I’m not sure Trent can do it as fast as you can--“

  “Sure,” he says, looking startled. “Don’t go asking Trent things when I’m right here, you know? I’ll get jealous.”

  “Yeah, right,” I drawl. “But you’re not going to like it--I’m warning you now.”

  “Yeah it’s right,” he mutters. Is that a bit of red on his cheeks? No, I have to be imagining it. “Okay, tell me what this horrible thing you want me to do is,” he says.

  “Can you find Jack? I don’t think he’s at school--and he ran off after saying some really stupid things--“

  “Stupid things?”

  “Um... like he--“ no, not about to mention the confession part of our conversation to Max, “like he knows where to get super powers from,” I finish, going straight to the crux. “And I think he was serious about it.”

 

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