by Chant, Zoe
“It was like walking into a giant store with thousands of TVs stacked up at every wall, turned up so loud they hurt your ears, with every single one playing something different. I always figured when he used his power, it was like typing into Google and seeing what comes up. But I think it’s more like having everything anyone’s ever searched for on Google dumped into your head and trying to sift through it for the answer to your question.”
“As someone who does a lot of weird searches on Google, that does not sound fun.”
“It really, really wasn’t.”
They had now left the city limits, and the freeway was beginning to climb to a higher elevation. The skyscrapers were gone, replaced by small towns in between long stretches of fields or woods. The trees blazed with the reds and golds of late autumn. The frenetic energy of Refuge City had been replaced by something quieter and more restful.
“Look at those leaves,” Tirzah said. “I’m glad I got a chance to get out of the city before they all fell.”
“I never got a chance to ask,” Pete said. “But… you own a cabin? What is it, family property?”
“No. I bought it. I used to work for a cryptocurrency startup. It turned into something like PayPal, and I made a mint. In fact…” Tirzah smiled, realizing that she’d completely forgotten to mention this little detail. “…I also own my apartment building.”
“You do? I never realized. The other tenants don’t act like you’re their landlord.”
“They don’t know.” Tirzah had to laugh at Pete’s surprise. “I started off as a tenant. We had an absentee landlord who never repaired anything. He eventually put the building up for sale, and everyone was worried that we’d get someone who’d raise the rent and drive us all out. So I bought it under a company name I made up. I hired an apartment manager who’s never met me in person. I pay for all the upkeep, and I’ve never raised the rent. When prospective renters come in to look at an apartment that’s opened up, I drop on by and make sure they’re nice people who’ll fit in.”
“And nobody knows who’s cashing their checks?”
“Nope. I thought it might make things awkward. Change our relationships.” She shrugged.
Pete was smiling. “I think you just like having secret identities.”
“No—well—maybe,” she admitted. “Okay, fine. When I was a kid I wanted to be a superhero. Wear a mask, bring villains to justice—stop laughing, smarty-pants, I know you did too.”
“Of course I did. But you’re the one who actually did it. I’m impressed, seriously. All you need is a Bat Cave.”
“I have a Batcat. And I sort of do have a Bat Cave—that’s my cabin.” Looking at the road up ahead, she admitted, “I miss it. I’m glad you’re driving me there. I’d thought I might never come back.”
It was true. But she didn’t tell him that she worried about how she might react when they hit the stretch of highway where her car had gone off the road. With any luck she’d be fine with someone else driving. And if not, there was always the Shoulder of Strength.
“How come you haven’t fixed up your apartment to make it more accessible?” he asked. “There’s no landlord telling you not to change things too much. And if you can afford the entire building, you can afford to renovate.”
Tirzah had once dreaded him asking that question, as it could so easily lead to “So what happened to you, anyway?” But now that she’d already told him her story, she was able to answer easily. “I didn’t want to move out of my apartment while the renovations were going on, so I kept putting it off and putting it off. And everyone in the building was happy to open doors and reach things down for me, so it didn’t seem that pressing. A family’s moving out of one of the three-bedroom apartments, though, so I might take that one over while mine’s getting fixed up.”
“You don’t mind asking people for help.” It was a statement, not a question, but Pete sounded like that was incomprehensible to him.
“No, not if they don’t mind giving it. Why do you mind?”
“Because…” His voice trailed off, then he finally said, “I guess I want to know I’m self-sufficient. That I don’t have to depend on anybody.”
“I don’t have to depend on anybody,” Tirzah pointed out. “Well, other than to drive. But I don’t need you to open the car door for me or stash my wheelchair in the trunk. It’s just a nice thing you do, that saves me the effort.”
Pete still seemed baffled by this, as if she’d told him that two plus two equaled orange. Finally, he said, “Yeah, I can see how that works for you.”
But not for you, Tirzah thought. She could vividly remember Pete not only refusing to ask for help, but refusing to accept it when offered until he literally collapsed. That had to be such a hard way to live.
“Can you do me a favor?” she asked.
“Sure.”
“When we get to the cabin, ask me to do something for you.”
“Like what?” Pete asked.
“That, my friend, is up to you,” Tirzah said, grinning. “And you already agreed to do it, so now you have to.”
A sweet smile lit his face and warmed his eyes. “Okay. I’ll see if I can think of a good one.”
They drove for another hour, until Tirzah said, “This is the last town before we get to my place. We should stop and get milk and butter and anything else perishable we might want. There’s coffee and canned stuff and so forth in the cabin, but my refrigerator was empty when I left that last time.”
“Last town?” Pete looked around. “This is a town?”
Tirzah, looking at it through his eyes, noted the one small market next to a small gas station, with fields full of grazing cows bracketing the road, and the mountains rising above it all. “Yup. I told you this was remote. No one to go berserk but the cows.”
Pete eyed them suspiciously. “I wouldn’t want to get charged by one.”
They checked the kitten suitcase (they both seemed to be napping), then cracked the window, fueled the car, and made their purchases. By the time they got back in the car, the afternoon light had turned the fields to gold.
Despite the danger they were still in—despite everything—Tirzah was inexplicably filled with a sense of happiness and peace. She and Pete were on this adventure together, on the way to her own special place that she’d never taken anyone to before. But rather than feel like her space was being invaded, she was glad to have the opportunity to share it with him.
As he drove, she kept sneaking glances at him. His dark hair, clipped so short that she could see the individual hairs standing up. His expressive brown eyes. The tiny cleft in his chin. The stubble just starting to come in that would make his cheeks feel rough if she touched them. His wrists so thick with muscle that she couldn’t close her fingers around them.
He’d held her, once. He’d stepped inside her mind. But that hadn’t felt invasive either. It had felt like she’d invited him in rather than that he’d barged in. More, he’d felt like he belonged.
Despite everything he’d told her, she sensed there was more than he wasn’t saying. Did he still worry that she’d judge him? Was he still judging himself?
What did he really feel about her?
What did she really feel about him?
The one-lane highway narrowed as it began to climb the mountains. Cliffs rose up on one side of the road and dropped away on the other. There was no guardrail. If the car hit ice and slid, it would go right over, tumbling and tumbling to smash into the ground below…
Pete laid his hand on her shoulder. “Hey. You doing okay?”
Tirzah gulped for air. “N—not really.”
“You want some help?”
“If you go inside my head while you’re driving, you’ll go off the cliff!” Her voice sounded shrill, and she winced at it.
“Wasn’t what I meant.” Pete squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll do this old school. First, close your eyes so you’re not looking at the drop.”
She did. Immediately, she felt lost in d
arkness, which made her panic even worse.
Pete went on, “Focus on my voice and my hand on your shoulder. Take a deep breath. All the way in, until you can feel your stomach puff out. Then sloooowly let it go. Take another breath, from the stomach again. As deep as you can…”
Tirzah followed his instructions. His hand was warm and strong on her shoulder, and she could sense his presence beside her. His voice was a lifeline, easing her panic. As she breathed deeply, her pounding heartbeat slowed and her sense of suffocation went away.
Pete kept on talking, calm and kind. She could hear that he wasn’t judging her for her fear, any more than he’d judged Ransom for whatever was going on with him. He’d seen that they were in pain and that he could help, and he’d stepped up to the plate. And that was what Pete was: compassionate, confident, and courageous.
Now that he’d gotten her past the worst of it, she knew she could open her eyes and manage her own fears without his help. But she liked hearing his voice, liked feeling his touch. Even though they were driving into danger, she was happy, because it meant they’d get to spend more time together.
I love him.
The realization came both as a shock and as an undeniable truth. Oh, she’d liked him before, she’d thought he was hot, she’d enjoyed his company, she’d had an enjoyable little crush on him. But this was more. This was the real thing.
I love him, she thought. I want to spend my life with him.
If he doesn’t feel the same way about me, it’s going to break my heart.
Tirzah swallowed. Pete was still talking, coaching her breathing. But she was now balanced on a precipice even more terrifying than the actual cliffs that had almost killed her. Now that she understood her own feelings, she also knew that she couldn’t keep them hidden for long. Much as she liked having secret identities, she’d never kept her feelings and emotions a secret. People might not know that Tirzah was Override, but they sure knew that Tirzah believed in the same things that Override believed in. She had her secrets, but she didn’t lie.
She’d have to tell Pete how she felt. And then she’d find out what he felt.
By the end of this day, she’d either be happier than she’d been in her entire life, or her heart would be smashed into a million little pieces.
If their mind-controlling enemy didn’t kill them first.
Chapter 23
Pete could feel as well as hear and see when Tirzah’s panic left her, but he kept on talking. He figured she’d tell him when she wanted him to stop. But she was so quiet and still, breathing deeply, that he was beginning to wonder if he’d actually lulled her to sleep when the steep road leveled off, and they left the cliffs behind.
She opened her eyes. “Thanks, Pete. I really appreciate it.”
“Any time. And hey, you got through it without even needing the Shoulder of Strength.”
“Sorry I snapped at you about that. I should’ve known that wasn’t what you meant.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I didn’t take it personally.”
“You know, I never asked. What was it like being inside my mind? Was it just a bunch of feelings that hurt? Or was it more than that?”
“More. Much more. It was like… the essence of you.”
“Even more Google than Ransom?” she teased.
Caught between blurting out that he’d fallen in love with her at that moment and saying literally anything else (which would be a lie), he only shook his head.
Of all things, the GPS she had programmed with the directions to her cabin came to his rescue. Its sing-song mechanical voice said, “In point three miles, take a right turn.”
“Little dirt road,” Tirzah added. “You’ll want to slow down. It comes up fast.”
He slowed, then took a sharp right on to a very rough dirt road. It wound through a forest of green fir and maples decked in red and gold. This late in autumn, the leaves were beginning to fall, carpeting the forest floor and blowing in drifts across the road.
“It’s beautiful,” he said. “You sure picked a nice spot.”
Her house was at the end of the long driveway, an old-fashioned log cabin. It was, he noted approvingly, fairly defensible. The walls and roof were thick, and as it was atop a hill, anyone trying to sneak up on it would be easily spotted. If you had to hole up in a civilian building where an enemy might catch up with you, you could do a lot worse.
They got out, and Tirzah gave an irritated glance at the front door. “What is the point of thresholds, other than to make things difficult for people in wheelchairs? I’ll have hire someone to get rid of that.”
“To keep snow from blowing in, I think.” Pete examined it. “I could take it off for you today. I’ve got some carpentry tools in the trunk.”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate it.”
Pete straightened up and looked around the front door, then gave a chuckle. “I should’ve asked you if you already had a security system and cameras. I brought them with me from the office.”
“Oops,” Tirzah said. “But yeah, no need. I’ve already got them, state of the art. With no neighbors to keep a lookout and me not here most of the time, I figured I needed them.”
She punched in a security code to turn off the alarm, then unlocked the door. He helped her wheel over the bump so she didn’t get jarred too much, and then she closed the door and re-armed the alarm.
He’d expected the air inside to be musty, considering no one had been in it for a year, but it wasn’t; Tirzah had left some windows open when she’d gone on that shopping trip so long ago. They were screened, so no leaves had blown in. The air inside was fresh and clean, if a bit chilly.
The cabin was small but cozy, with an open kitchen, a living room with a fireplace, and doors leading to a bathroom, a bedroom, and an office crammed with computers and other electronics. Dolls sat, legs dangling, on the mantelpiece, and several plastic ninjas were caught in the act of climbing the curtains. It was a distinctly Tirzah cabin.
Pete glanced up. “Where’s the stairs?”
“Stairs?” Tirzah asked blankly.
“It looked like there was a second floor.”
“Oh, that’s the attic.” She wheeled over and pointed upward, at a dangling rope with a handle. “Pull on that.”
Pete gave it a tug. A panel slid to the side, and a rope ladder fell down.
“Even more useless now than when I bought the place,” Tirzah remarked. She returned to the living room, where they’d left the kitten suitcase. Pete followed. “All the doors and windows closed?”
“Sure. Go ahead and release the kittens.”
Tirzah giggled. “That sounded like ‘Release the kraken!’”
“Not much difference, with these little hellraisers.”
She flipped open the suitcase. Two pairs of enormous yellow eyes stared accusingly at him and Tirzah, and two rose-pink mouths opened to make sad little meows intended to strike guilt into the hearts of the monsters who had locked them in a suitcase. Then, moving in tandem, they launched out of the suitcase and flew straight up through the trapdoor and into the attic.
“Anything up there they can get into?” Pete asked.
“Nothing breakable, I think. I’ve only been up there once. The person I bought it from had furniture stashed up there that I guess he didn’t want to deal with trying to get down the rope ladder, and I felt the same way.”
Pete waited apprehensively for the sounds of mayhem, but there was only silence.
“They’re probably plotting something,” Tirzah said. “At least here we don’t have to worry about anyone seeing them.”
That was, in fact, a weight off Pete’s mind. He’d spent so much time dreading Caro finding out about all the weird stuff he’d gotten tangled up in, and so getting pulled into danger. It was a huge relief to know that she was safe with his team, Mom was safe all the way across the country, and there were no neighbors or passersby to get caught up in anything that might happen.
Just to be sure, he to
ok out his cell phone and messaged Caro, Mom, and Roland while Tirzah took off to check her computer room.
Mom wrote, Everything’s fine. I’ve arrived at Elena’s place and am arranging for grocery delivery. Are you and Caro in the city?
Pete knew Mom would tear him a new one when she found out what was really going on and that he hadn’t told her, but he preferred that to her worrying. So he wrote back, No, she’s with friends.
It wasn’t technically a lie. She was with friends. His friends. If you stretched a point to call them that.
Roland wrote, Caro’s fine. She’s all settled in and playing cards with Merlin.
Caro wrote, I’m fine dad. Merlin is teaching me to play poker. Better watch out!
Tirzah came back in. “Computers are all good! No sign of the kittens. You see ‘em anywhere?”
“No—” Pete began.
Just then, the kittens came zooming back in, green and black wings flapping madly. They chased each other around the cabin, meowing and occasionally bouncing off the walls. Finally, they tumbled together to the sofa, where they began grooming each other. Pete and Tirzah watched, fascinated, as Batcat pinned the larger Spike down with a dainty paw and licked him all over, while Spike craned his neck to groom her belly fur. That task done, the kittens wrapped their arms around each other and fell fast asleep.
“Isn’t that sweet?” Tirzah said. “I’d started thinking they’d never get along.”
“And all it took was getting locked in a suitcase together for hours.”
“Don’t knock it. We got locked in an apartment together for a week, and…” Her voice trailed off, and her cheeks flushed pink.
The air in the cabin no longer felt chilly, but hot. Or maybe it was just him. Tirzah was silent, looking up at him. Her beautiful brown eyes seemed to look straight into his soul.
Now, rumbled the cave bear. No more secrets.
