by Matt Blake
Most of the time, though, Hank just felt total dread. Like something bad was coming. Something he couldn’t describe. He just knew he had to get away from it. He had to run.
He looked down at where he’d been digging and in the last of the day’s light, he saw something glinting.
He narrowed his eyes and reached down. He moved some of the sand away, brushing it back.
There was something here.
Something metal.
And he got the opposite feeling to the one when he went to work. A weird feeling. A feeling he wasn’t used to, not anymore.
Hank White felt excited.
He kept on digging. Maybe it was some kind of old artifact. Some evidence of alien lifeforms. Damn, what if it was a UFO? A government experiment? A…
When he saw what it was, he couldn’t help but collapse and laugh.
It was an old CD rack. An old goddamned CD rack buried here thirty feet down in the dirt of the outback. He felt tears then, as his laughter got more hysterical, the sand filling his eyes. He didn’t care anymore. All of a sudden, he saw the ridiculousness of everything, and he didn’t care about a thing.
A CD rack.
Maybe he’d get a dollar for it if he was lucky.
A dollar for hours of work.
A dollar for…
He saw something else, then.
It was only small. But when it caught his eye, Hank got the feeling that this was something different. Something… hell, something important.
He brushed away the sand, and he lifted the object out of the earth.
He looked down at it, a lump in his throat intensifying, his hands getting shaky.
It was round. Perfectly round, pretty weighty, and totally shiny, like it was brand new. It rested in the palm of Hank’s hand, around the size of a tennis ball.
But it didn’t look like anything Hank had ever seen.
He held it in his hand a few seconds. Then he put it into his coat and he started climbing his way out of his hole.
He felt like he’d found something of importance. He didn’t know what it was, and maybe he’d never fully understand the true level of its importance, but he knew he had something special.
He didn’t bother taking the CD rack along with him.
6
I sat beside Mom’s grave and felt my eyes welling up, just as they always did.
It was a quiet afternoon. Still warm for September, but there were signs that fall was on the way now. Some of the trees were starting to show early shades of orange. There was an overall feeling of sleepiness to Staten Island, just before the rush in the build up to Thanksgiving.
Except I didn’t want to think about Thanksgiving, especially if Mom wasn’t going to be here to celebrate it.
I swallowed a lump in my throat and reached over to Mom’s headstone. It still felt surreal, sitting here, looking at my mom’s name staring back at me. That’s all she was now. Mary Peters. Ten letters. That’s what she’d been reduced to.
But to me, she was three letters. She was Mom.
And I missed her so, so much.
I listened to the breeze against the trees. I liked coming here when I was going through something tough. I didn’t do anything weird like talk to the grave. I didn’t say anything, or do anything for that matter.
All I needed was to sit here, to spend some time here, and to decompress in the company of Mom.
She’d been so tough. She’d been so positive. I idolized her.
And now she was gone.
I leaned closer to the headstone, not really caring about getting dirt on my jeans. I sat there and felt the sun against my skin. The rest of the cemetery was empty. I preferred it when it was this way. Sometimes, weird as it sounded, if I focused enough, I really believed I could hear Mom’s voice talking to me, telling me everything was okay. That I was tough and I could handle whatever was going on in my life because she hadn’t gone anywhere, not really.
I knew it wasn’t true. I knew Mom was gone. Long gone.
And not in the way Cassie went away, either. Because Mom didn’t have abilities. There was no mistaking what’d happened to her.
She’d died. She’d passed away.
She’d left way too early and hadn’t even known her daughter had returned.
I wanted her here now. I wanted her to tell me what to do. Hell, even if she shouted at me for being such a wuss, told me to get myself together and start acting like a man, I just needed to hear something from her.
But all I heard was silence. All I heard was the breeze carrying the leaves across the cemetery.
All I heard was nothingness.
I stayed there a while. Stayed perched by the grave.
I wasn’t sure how long I was there, but it felt nice to just pretend I didn’t have any problems. To picture myself when I was younger, laughing as Mom pushed me on the swings, holding onto the handles for dear life. Even though I’d screamed as I’d climbed higher, terrified I might plunge off the edge of the swing and into the air, I still knew I was okay, deep down. I knew I was fine. Because Mom was there for me. She had my back. Always.
I’d felt Mom’s death harder since stepping back from my powers, weirdly. I dunno what it was. Maybe I’d been distracted by the whirlwind of being an ULTRA that I just hadn’t had time to process her death properly. I’d been too busy saving the world a number of times to let personal matters get in the way. I’d stepped up, just like I knew I should.
But there was only so long you could delay grief.
And when it hit you, it really hit you.
I was starting to understand why Dad went so downhill when he thought Cassie had died, now.
I closed my eyes, pictured Mom’s smiling face, and bathed in the perfect silence.
Then I heard footsteps approaching.
I opened my eyes and swung around, my nerves still on edge.
When I saw it was Cassie, I let go of my breath.
I turned around and looked back at the grave. I waited for Cassie to approach. I hadn’t spoken to her since I’d made her pass out at the restaurant. I knew the shouting that I was going to get from her would come eventually.
I just didn’t want it to go down at Mom’s grave.
“I’m sorry for—”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t do a thing. For both our sakes.”
I half-smiled at her, a nasty taste filling my mouth at the memory of what I’d done, then I nodded and turned back to the grave. “I just… All this. This ULTRA stuff. We’ve done enough of it. We should be allowed to have lives, too.”
“You know, you aren’t the only one who struggles.”
“Huh?”
“I struggle. But there’s loads of people who struggle. People flying airplanes struggle with the thought that they might make a mistake and bring the whole thing down someday. Celebrities struggle with making the right moves in public in case the paparazzi misinterpret something and bring their reputation crashing. But that doesn’t mean they don’t just deal with those responsibilities. What you’re doing isn’t dealing with them. It’s running away from them. And you can’t run forever. I swear to God, our responsibilities are gonna catch up with us sometime soon. And when they do, the fallout’s going to be bigger than either of us can imagine.”
I sighed. “The rest of the ULTRAs in the world now seem to be doing a decent enough job.”
“They’re doing a decent job, but they’re reckless. They’re without order. They need a leader. They—”
“No,” I said.
“What?”
“I said no.”
“You’re… snappier than usual. Something else wrong?”
No point trying to hide the truth from my mind reader of a sister. “Ellicia’s going to San Fran.”
“She is? Damn. That’s amazing. Right?”
“It is. But not for the two of us.”
“I don’t see why her moving anywhere is a problem when you can fly to the—”
“I don’t want
to fly. Because flying brings questions. And before I know it, people will be asking why I’m in San Fran one day and New York the next and it… it’ll all just become one big mess.”
“So you’re just going to leave her?”
When I heard the words and prepared to say my words, I hated myself a little more than I already did. “I’m thinking maybe it’s for the best.”
Cassie didn’t lecture me. She didn’t have a go at me, as I expected. She just sighed and shook her head. “See what giving up your responsibilities is doing to you? It’s not magically giving you some new life. It’s taking everything you care about away.”
She put a hand on my shoulder.
“If you really aren’t ready to embrace your powers, I guess I can’t make you. Only I’m not gonna hide forever. But Jesus, Kyle. Get a job, or go to college or something. Just… just start growing up. Seriously.”
Cassie started to walk away. Her words were biting. But they were exactly what I needed.
“You’re right,” I said.
She stopped and turned around. “About what?”
I saw the hope in her eyes and just had to go and extinguish them. “About going to college. I think I’m gonna look into taking some classes again. Picking up my education. Before my brain melts.”
It wasn’t the answer Cassie wanted to hear, but it was something. She smiled a little. “Good. I’m holding you to that.”
She walked away.
I stood by the side of Mom’s grave. I looked at it and I smiled. Even though she hadn’t spoken, it felt like she’d spoken through Cassie. I was going to get my life in order. I was going to start again.
I looked up at the sky and I wondered if she was out there somewhere, watching down.
For a split second, I wondered about Orion, too. And I wondered about Daniel Peters. And I wondered about Saint.
But that momentary thought didn’t last long.
I couldn’t let it last long.
I had a new life to start now.
A normal life.
7
Hank White stood at the side of the road in the middle of nowhere and started to question whether he was completely insane after all.
It was the middle of the night. Five past twelve, to be precise, so technically morning. He was on a long empty stretch just outside of Narrandera. It’d taken him a while to get out here. There’d been a hold up back at the nearest town, which worried him because he didn’t want to be late for his appointment.
Because from what the woman on the phone said, this could be an appointment that changed his fortunes—changed his life—for good.
Rain lashed down on Hank as he stood fifty feet from his car. That was weird, too. One of the requests the woman had made on the phone was that he was fifty feet from his vehicle. When he asked her why, she said it was just a weird kind of procedure of theirs. They were making a big deal; they didn’t want to risk anything going awry.
So here Hank was, standing in the rain, five minutes late and wondering whether he’d screwed up his damned opportunity to make a killing all along.
All around him in every direction, darkness. He figured he’d at least see headlights approaching from the distance when the woman and her people arrived to make the exchange. He could hear clicking noises, and weird shuffling by the sides of the road and thought of how many creepy crawlies and vicious animals might be just feet away from him. The thought made his skin tingle.
He just hoped he hadn’t screwed this deal up by being late. He hoped he hadn’t dug his family into another goddamned hole, all because of his clumsiness and lack of responsibility.
He wiped some of the pouring rain from his forehead and thought back to the events of a crazy day. He’d got home with his discovery—the little metal ball—and right away, Anita said someone had called. Someone very interested in making an offer for something he had. He’d called back and immediately he’d got an answer, without a single dialing tone. A woman. She sounded British, although there was a hint of Aussie to her accent. Maybe an ex-pat. She wouldn’t be the first British ex-pat to make her way to Australia.
She told him she’d heard he had something very valuable. He’d played hard to get at first, haggling and everything. But then she’d said she was putting a serious seven-figure offer on the table. Life changing money. And at that point, all reason slipped out of Hank’s mind. All questions and doubts about how this woman knew he had the metal ball, about how she’d found out about it, about what it even was… all of them slipped away, and Hank saw dollar signs.
He was going to be rich.
He was going to move Anita out of that goddamned awful bedsit.
They were going to start their lives again, for real, and Hank wouldn’t ever have to think about working again. Ever.
But now here he was, five minutes late, and there was no one to be seen.
He waited. He figured he had nothing better to do. He thought about going back to his car and sitting in there for a while, but he was drenched as it was so it wasn’t exactly gonna make a world of difference.
The longer he waited in total darkness, the more agitation crept into his system. The more the tightness wrapped around his chest, and squeezed on his lungs—
(You’re useless you’re a waste of space always have been always will be just kill yourself already)—
No!
He couldn’t think about killing himself. That was a damned nasty thing to think about. No, he was gonna fight. He was gonna wait here, and he was gonna seal this deal. Worst case scenario? They didn’t show up, and he went back home. He’d just call them again. Tell them he wanted more money. Or if this thing he had really was so valuable, then maybe he could sell it on to someone else. Yeah. That was a point. If one party were offering seven figures for it, then they wouldn’t be the only group after it. There would be others.
That’s it. Deep breaths, Hank. You’re not gonna screw this up. For once in your goddamned life, you’re not gonna screw something up.
As he waited longer, he found himself reaching into his pocket and feeling the metal ball. It was so smooth. Like the softest metal he’d ever felt. He didn’t want to get it out in the rain because he didn’t want to risk breaking it or damaging it. But something told Hank that this metal wasn’t going to be damaged anytime soon. It might’ve looked new, but it was so buried under the earth in such a weird location that Hank couldn’t possibly see how anyone had lost it anytime recently.
It had to be old.
And it had to be special.
He was starting to think about going back to the car again when he became aware of movement right behind him.
Not just any old movement.
Footsteps.
Human footsteps.
When he turned around, he saw a dark silhouette, barely visible in the light of the stars.
“Hank White?”
When he heard the voice, he immediately recognized it as the woman from the phone. The nameless woman. That was weird, too. Prospective business client, and she weren’t even willing to give her name? There was something very off about all this. Something very secretive.
Hank stood tall and took in a deep breath to make himself look more assertive. “Speaking. And you are?”
“There’s no need for formalities here. Do you have it?”
Hank’s automatic reaction was to reach into his pocket and hand it over to this woman right away. She was offering serious money, and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on it.
But something made him hesitate.
“Do you have what you promised me?”
The woman didn’t respond.
“The money,” Hank said. “Seven figures, you said.”
“Name a figure.”
“What?”
“Name a figure.”
Hank wasn’t sure he liked this much freedom. He was tempted to go for the max of $9,999,999. But the polite guy inside won over, of course. “Shall we say um… um, four million?”
/> “Make it forty,” the woman said.
Hank’s jaw almost dropped off. “What?”
“Forty million. That’s more in the region of what this item is worth.”
Hank couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This woman could’ve said anything to him right now, and he’d follow her orders.
“So do you have it?” the woman asked. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine. Then we’ll figure out the best way to exchange.”
Hank felt skeptical, but that skepticism was drowned out by the thoughts of all the things he could do with forty million dollars. He could buy a mansion. Buy a posh car. He and Anita could get a dog again. Hell, they could get ten dogs, and they could buy Bruce back from his adoptive owners and reset. Start again.
So that vision, that fantasy of the future, forced him to pull out the metal ball. Hold it up.
It glinted in the starlight.
“So where’s the—”
He felt a sharp pain in his back, and he immediately dropped to his knees.
He didn’t understand what was happening. It was only at that point that he’d noticed someone else was behind him. And something was spreading up his back. Something warm. Something soothing. It was sneaking through every muscle in his body and making them calm. Making them… still.
The woman leaned toward Hank. “I’m a woman of my word. I will make sure your wife gets that forty million. Truly.”
Then she reached for the metal ball.
And as much as Hank tried to grip hold of it, his visions of an ideal future slipping away along with his consciousness and strength, he just couldn’t hold on anymore.
He had to let go.
He had to give in.
“You should be grateful,” she said, her voice blurring into the background. “I just put a forty million life insurance clause over your head. Your wife can finally quit her job and follow her dreams. Doesn’t that make you happy?”
Hank couldn’t deny he felt happy.
For the first time in a long time, as his hearing faded, then his sense of smell, then his touch, he felt like he’d done something selfless for Anita. Like he’d taken on responsibility for his family.
