Power Surge (Anna Jennings Super Novel Book 1)

by E. J. Whitmer

  “Yep!” she hollered back. “I wanna eat the middle out of a crabberry goon!”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Blake. I would love just a big bowl of egg drop soup. I’m not sure what type of food Sophia normally eats, but she did ask for a crab Rangoon.”

  “You got it, toots!” Blake’s grandmother hung up before I could reply.

  How was she related to Eric again? That lady was a hoot!

  I replaced the phone on its receiver and returned to the living room where Sophia was trying desperately to get through the lock on my cell phone.

  “Excuse me, missy,” I playfully scolded. “What are you trying to do?”

  Sophia quickly crammed my phone under the couch cushion and smiled up at me innocently.

  I rolled my eyes and smiled back. “Were you trying to call your boyfriend?” I teased.

  Sophia mimicked my eyeroll. “No. Daddy says no boys ‘til I’m old like him. I want Angry Birds.”

  Ah, to be young again and think 35 is old.

  After setting Sophia up with Angry Birds, I began exploring. Blake’s home was beautiful. I shouldn’t have been surprised, given Regina was always impeccably dressed. However, the Blake house was warm and inviting. It was spacious, as I figured it would be, but it was homey. Pictures of Sophia and who could only be Eric’s parents and brothers were placed on every available surface. It was apparent family meant a great deal to him and I felt a bit guilty snooping around his space. There was obviously much more to Eric Blake than I knew; a softer side to some degree. But I was snooping for his own good, wasn’t I? He could be in trouble. What would happen to sweet Sophia if anything happened to her daddy?

  I was standing in Blake’s study struggling with my own internal debate, when I heard the front door open and close.

  “Hellooooo?” floated the now familiar voice of Blake’s grandmother.

  Shit, turds, balls. Damn you, conscience! I’d missed my chance.

  I returned to the family room to greet Mrs. Blake and instead, found a large, walking, talking pile of Chinese food, perched on tiny legs in red sandals with stiletto heels. It looked like she had bought out the entire store!

  “Mrs. Blake? Are you in there?!”

  The pile of food chuckled. “I think so! Be a dear and grab a couple boxes off the top, would you?”

  I hustled over and grabbed as much as I could from the top of the pile. Each box I removed revealed more and more of the most strangely adorable old woman I’d ever seen.

  Mrs. Blake was about five foot two, including her two inch stiletto heels and four inch, black, beehive hairdo. After removing the third box from the top, two twinkling blue eyes peaked out underneath navy blue penciled-on eyebrows. Yep. Navy blue. She must have gotten her eyeliner and eyebrow pencils mixed up.

  After several trips to the kitchen, then entire package that was Eric Blake’s grandmother was finally revealed. She was tiny and wore bright red dress capris to match the heels and a black flowy top that was conservative while showing off her extremely large chest.

  When the final box was laid on the kitchen counter, Mrs. Blake grabbed me by the shoulders with surprising strength and pulled me into a tight hug that lasted just a tish too long. Finally, she pulled back, still hanging on to my shoulders, and looked me up and down with a huge grin.

  “You’re even prettier in person!” she said. “Just beautiful! I knew you would be.”

  Weird.

  “Mrs. Blake, I appreciate your stopping for food, but how on earth are we going to eat all of this?”

  “Please, call me Grandma Rose,” she replied. “I know you said you only wanted a bowl of soup, Anna, but honestly, how can soup fill you up? You need protein! Fat! Rice! You’re too skinny! Plus, I got a couple extra meals for Eric when he gets home.”

  I glanced down at the straining button on my slacks. Skinny is not a word that has ever been used to describe me. Fit, sure. Thin if I’m lucky. But not skinny. And certainly not skinny enough to stuff my face with fried pieces of chicken in sugary sauces.

  Sophia trotted into the kitchen and gave her great grandmother a hug. “Did you get me my goons!?”

  “Of course I did, pumpkin! I got you goons and sesame chicken to share with Anna.”

  The smells were deliciously intoxicating and shortly overthrew any willpower I thought I had. Twenty minutes later, I was in a sesame chicken coma and trying to discretely unbutton my slacks for some breathing room.

  The television was on in the family room while Sophia was chomping on her “goons” and regaling us with tails from her adventures with Minni.

  Grandma Rose was listening intently and sipping her egg drop soup when her entire body went rigid. She was staring aggressively into her bowl of soup, her nostrils flaring dangerously. I half expected the soup to begin boiling under her intent stare.

  “Mrs. Blake? Are you alright?”

  “She’s having a bizzin,” Sophia said between bites of goon.

  “A bizzin?”

  “Yeah. Sometimes when she eats food, she sees stuff. Like stuff from tomorrow.”

  “A vision?” I asked. Sophia nodded.

  Oh shit. Grandma Rose. As in the Rose the psychic. How did I not know this!?

  As soon as I put the pieces together, Rose snapped out of her trance. “Sophia, dear. If you’re finished, would you please go into the living room for a bit? I need to speak with Anna.”

  Sophia grumbled and huffed, but scurried out of the room with little fuss.

  “Anna, you have to help them!” exclaimed Rose.

  “Who?! Help who?!”

  “The team! Eric and Lilith and the rest of their team! They’re in trouble!”

  “Okay, slow down Rose. What exactly did you see?”

  Rose took a deep breath and folded her hands. “They’re trapped. All of them. It’s fuzzy. I can’t make it out perfectly. It looked like they were in one of those storage locker thingies like they auction off on those TV shows. The overhead doors were orange. I remember that.”

  There had to be hundreds of storage facilities in Chicago. How many of those had orange doors? Probably dozens. I had no idea where to even start, other than to Google possible locations.

  As I crossed through the family room toward the office, a story on the evening news caught my eye. A severe-looking anchorwoman with helmet hair was reporting a breaking news report.

  “All flights in and out of Chicago’s O’Hare airport have been cancelled due to a recent power outage. Earlier this evening, a massive power surge blasted through O’Hare and the surrounding neighborhoods, shorting out the main power grid and all backup generators. Crews are on the scene, however, without power, security is a major concern. TSA has locked down the airport, forbidding anyone from entering or leaving the premises.”

  A power surge. Captain Zinger. My spidey senses weren’t just tingling at this point, they were viciously stabbing my brain stem. I raced to Blake’s office and pulled up Google Maps, searching for all storage facilities within a mile radius of O’Hare. That narrowed it down to about thirty. With the wonders of modern technology, I was able to zoom in to a street view of the closest storage facilities. Four of them had orange doors. I jotted down the addresses and raced back to the kitchen.

  “Rose, I have to go. I think I’m on to something.”

  She nodded and followed me to the foyer before helping me into my coat. “Be careful, dear. And call your friend.”

  “My friend?”

  “Yes. The blonde boy in the yellow undies and cape. He’s important. Oh, and I packed some jars of jam in your purse. Boisenberry and strawberry-rhubarb. I made them myself!”

  “Erm … Thank you. I’ll have Eric call you the second he’s safe!” With that, I raced out the door, dialing Carl on the way.

  “Carl, it’s Anna. The team is in trouble. I’m coming to get you. Wear something dark. And if you’ve got some black sweats for me to wear, can you please bring them? I’m still in my work clothes.”

  “Sure t
hing, Anna! I’ll meet you at the door!” He sounded way too excited to be going into a potentially fatal situation.

  16

  Jam so good it’ll knock you on your ass.

  Sure enough, when I pulled into Carl’s parking lot, he was sitting on the front step, a gym bag at his feet. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see he was decked out in yet another spandex super suit; this one entirely black.

  He raced over and jumped into my car. “Let’s roll, kimosabe!”

  I stifled a groan and sped out of the lot. Twenty minutes later, I parked my car a block from the first storage facility.

  “Hand me the bag. I need to change quick.”

  Carl handed over his duffel and I rifled through the contents. On top was yet another spandex suit; this one in orange and yellow. Thank goodness there was also a set of black sweats. I climbed into the backseat and after making sure Carl’s eyes were closed, changed into my pseudo ninja suit. Luckily, my gym shoes were in my back seat as well. I forced myself to ignore the fact I was dressed entirely in black with bright white sneakers. Carrie Bradshaw would smother me with a pillow.

  Once I was sufficiently ninja’d out, Carl and I made our way to the storage facility. Our game plan was to work our way from the outside in, checking each locker for anything suspicious. What felt like a bazillion minutes later, we came up empty handed. Same thing with the second storage facility. By the time we reached the third, I was feeling pretty discouraged.

  The first two rows of lockers were quiet. With no power in the area, it was difficult to see our own feet, let alone look closely for clues. I was beginning to feel like the entire thing was a waste of time when I noticed light glowing from under the door of one of the largest storage lockers.

  I put a hand out to stop Carl and pointed toward the light. He nodded and followed me as we inched our way closer.

  Eric! I called out mentally. Eric, are you here?

  Go away, Anna! Blake’s voice exploded in my mind. You’re going to get yourself killed!

  Are Emmett and Lloyd here? I asked, still slowly inching my way toward the light.

  We believe so. They aren’t here with us, but we think they’re here in another locker. Anna, I’m serious. You need to get out of here. This guy is unstable.

  I rolled my eyes and turned to Carl. “They’re in there. The Vances are here too, but in a different locker. We need to form a game plan.”

  Carl nodded. “We need to draw him out and incapacitate him. You scream and I’ll take him down when he comes out to investigate.”

  I shook my head. “Carl he’s electric or something. What are you going to do to take him down?”

  He didn’t have an answer for that.

  “Look, I beat the crap out of a kickboxing bag a few times a week. I’ll do it. You just make a diversion.”

  Carl looked like he wanted to argue, but instead paced away, searching the ground. A few moments later, he returned with a baseball sized rock.

  We tiptoed to the overhead door and waited a moment. On impulse, I reached over and hugged Carl tight. When I pulled away, he squeezed my shoulder and took a step back before chucking the rock across the parking lot into a locker. The resulting bang was loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood.

  We didn’t have to wait long. Ten seconds later, the locker door quickly rose and a large figure emerged. As the door reached its apex, the light illuminated the figure, confirming it was indeed Captain Zinger. Though I knew who it would be, seeing him with my own eyes was shocking. I gasped. Audibly. Obviously I needed more ninja lessons. He whirled around and spotted me, his face morphing from confusion to outrage.

  “You!” he growled, before lunging toward me.

  I pulled the ultimate stereotypical damsel in distress move. I hit him over the head with my purse. What can I say? It was my natural reaction. Thankfully, I still had the jars of jam Rose had given me. One whollop and Zinger was down for the count, his forehead sporting a brand new goose egg courtesy of Rose Blake’s delicious boysenberry preserves.

  I hurtled over his motionless body and flew into the storage locker.

  “For fuck’s sake, Anna! I told you to get out of here!” Blake’s furious voice greeted us as we skidded to a halt.

  It took me a full minute to catch my breath and take in the scene. Blake, Lilith, Dom and Peter were huddled together in the back of the storage locker. Some sort of semi-visible force field surrounded them, a swirling bubble of electricity that snapped angrily at the air around it.

  “I would not touch that thing,” Carl warned.

  I shot him my best “do you think I’m stupid” look and inched forward. “Blake, what happened?” I asked.

  He looked a bit too angry to answer. After a few tense seconds, Lilith answered.

  “We were ambushed. Peter dug deeper into Lloyd Vance’s phone records and found a text with this address on it. As soon as we got here, the electric asshole rounded the corner, spotted us and sent a lightning ball to knock us all out. We woke up in here.”

  I shook my head. “I’m guessing you’ve tried breaking free?” They nodded. “Why didn’t he just kill you? Wasn’t his entire goal to kidnap the Vances in order to get all of you in one place?”

  Blake growled his frustration. “Don’t you watch the movies, Jennings? The bad guys always have to tell the good guys what their devious plan is. Why the hell do you think I told you to go away? He was in here tugging his own dick, giving us a play by play of his sinister agenda. Then you waltz in here in that ninja fashion faux pas and ruin it!”

  I raised an eyebrow and looked at Dom. “Is he being serious right now? I’m about to save you.”

  Dom smirked and shrugged. “I don’t think he likes being rescued by ladies.”

  “Oh for the love of cheese! Fine, Blake. I’ll get these three out and leave you here. Would that make you feel better?”

  He didn’t answer. The douche.

  I rolled my shoulders and walked around the electric bubble. I had no idea how it was powered. There weren’t any cables coming out of it for an energy source. I racked my brain for anything I might have learned in AP Physics. My teacher was mildly insane, but extremely good. In the very back of my brain, I remembered a lesson about redirecting power.

  “Lilith,” I shouted. “Do you still have that tire iron in your car?” She nodded. “And your car is here?” Again, she nodded. I turned to Carl. “Carl, run out front to the parking lot. Find the white Ford Taurus. Break the window if you have to. There’s a tire iron in there. I need it.”

  Carl took off at a sprint toward the parking lot, his cape fluttering behind him.

  “Okay. Let’s talk this through. I need to redirect the power and I’m going to use the tire iron. I’ll lean it against the locker wall and drop it to the edge of the electric bubble. As soon as you see the force field falter, run. Kapeesh?”

  Three of the four nodded. Carl returned moments later with Lilith’s tire iron and after taking a moment to build my courage, I stepped forward.

  “Anna …” Blake faltered.

  “Eric. It’s fine. I won’t touch it. I’ll let it fall. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. We’ll figure it out.”

  He swallowed and chewed on his bottom lip before nodding once. Very carefully, I placed one end of the tire iron on the metal wall closest to the electric force field. I glanced over my shoulder at Dom who winked at me and smiled. Shutting my eyes tight, I exhaled, dropped the other end of the tire iron and leapt back. A loud crackle sounded throughout the room, followed by several shocked gasps. I still had my eyes shut. The room fell silent. Not a good sign. Seconds later, I felt a strong, warm hand on my shoulder.

  “Open your eyes, Anna,” Blake’s voice rumbled in my ear. “We’re fine. You did it. The force field was weak enough for us to push through.”

  Relief flooded through my body, weakening my knees. I collapsed back against Blake’s chest as the other team members crowded around and hugged each other. Our moment of eu
phoria was cut short at the sound of yet another crackle, followed by a squeak, then what I was sure was a fart. I spun around to find Carl in a heap on the floor behind us.

  I raced to his side and lifted his head up, checking his neck for a pulse and finding one. Carl hiccupped and came to his senses.

  “Don’t touch the walls,” he croaked.

  “What happened to Captain Zinger?” asked Dom.

  “He’s outside the locker. I knocked him out.”

  Blake looked shocked. “How? With what?”

  I smiled sheepishly. “Skills. And your grandmother’s jarred preserves.”

  “You hit him over the head with a jar of jelly?!”

  “No. I hit him over the head with my purse. Your grandmother sent me away with jars of jelly in my purse.”

  Blake smiled and shook his head. “How did you find us?”

  “We’ll talk about that later,” I replied. “We need to take care of the watt twat and find Emmett and Lloyd.”

  “Watt twat?” Blake smirked.

  I smiled proudly. “Just thought of that one.”

  “Nice. Alright, let’s move.”

  Unfortunately, the watt twat was nowhere to be found.

  “He was right here,” I cried, pointing at the ground outside the locker. “I knocked him out cold.”

  “Well he’s not here anymore,” snapped Blake.

  “Chill, Blake,” demanded Dom. “Let’s find the Vances. Then we can worry about Zinger.”

  We spread out in pairs, Carl tagging along with Lilith who seemed to be the most patient of all of us. I was with Blake who insisted I follow behind him. Apparently he forgot I saved his life.

  We split the facility into quadrants and began our search. Though Carl and I had been through the majority of the lockers already, we weren’t fool enough to believe we couldn’t have missed something. Blake and I took four rows Carl and I hadn’t checked before.

  “Clear your mind, Jennings,” said Blake. “I need to listen for any thoughts Emmett might be having. It’s easier to do that if I don’t have your brain going a mile a minute in the background.”