An Army of One: The Extraordinary Series

by Eaton, Pam

  “Xavier tells me you’re going to France,” Walter says, wiping his face with a napkin.

  “After lunch,” I tell him.

  “Is Tony going with you?” he asks, somewhat hopeful.

  “What do you think?” I ask, not bothering to look away from my food.

  He slaps his hand on the table, making everyone at the table look up at him. “That little baran. You could really use him on this.”

  “Preaching to the choir, Walter. You’re welcome to go and try and talk him into it,” I say, shoveling another delicious bite in.

  “I’ll swing by this afternoon,” he says in his gruff Polish voice.

  Who knows, maybe Tony will be persuaded by Walter.

  We finish up our lunch, and after cleaning up, Xavier and I say our goodbyes as we walk out the door and head over to Tiberius’s.

  “You’re different,” Xavier says to me out of nowhere as we walk down the dirt street.

  “Yeah. How’s that?” I ask, not really wanting to have this conversation.

  “Something’s gone,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate.

  “Cryptic much?”

  “Sorry,” he says, looking me over. “I can’t explain it. Something is different.”

  We pass the turn for my house, but I stop and stare at it. “I’m going to go talk to Tony. Why don’t you head over to Tiberius’s and I’ll transport there in a minute?”

  “Think it’s going to help?” he asks.

  “Won’t know till I try,” I say. I close my eyes and, in a blink, I’m standing in front of my front door.

  After we moved in here, Tony and I agreed I’d never transport directly into the house. The first time I did it, I ended up with a black eye and Tony refusing to come out of his room for two days. But now he can have the chance to hear the front door.

  “Tony,” I call out as I walk in the front door.

  Surprisingly, he’s not sitting on the couch, so I head for his room. I get to his door and hear mumbling coming from the other side. I raise my hand to knock, but lean closer when I hear him curse. What is going on in there?

  “Tony?” I ask as I knock on the door.

  Something heavy drops to the floor, and I hear him scrambling around the room. I turn the handle on the door, and it clicks open.

  “No! Don’t come in here!”

  What the…

  “What are you doing?” I ask, still holding the doorknob.

  “Nothing,” he says, but he sounds frantic.

  I push the door open just a little, and then what I see causes me to push it wide. “Becca, no.”

  He stands frozen by his hamper, a towel crushed in his hand, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and briefs. His legs are covered in blood. It’s flowing down his thighs, from long cuts above the knee.

  My eyes make their way back up his body, and they stop on his hands. He’s twisting the towel so tightly, but I doubt he even knows that. I connect with his eyes, but he averts his quickly to the floor.

  I walk slowly across the room to him. And the closer I get, the more his muscles seem to tense. I stop in front of him, blood still dripping onto the floor, and slowly pry his fingers off the towel.

  He reluctantly releases it, and I squat down in front of him and put the towel against his left leg. A whoosh of air leaves his lips, and I watch them start to tremble, but he fights it.

  He clears his throat a few times. “You don’t…you don’t have to do this.” He forces the words past his still trembling lips.

  “I know,” I tell him, doing my best to keep my voice even and normal.

  Because inside I’m freaking way the heck out. I’m out of my depth here. He’s cutting himself. And I know there’s no way I can truly help him, aside from this. But I feel my frozen heart start to melt a little bit. Because my friend is hurting.

  “I don’t…” He’s struggling for words, and I reach up to grab his hand.

  He finally looks down at me, and that allows a tear to escape. He opens his mouth, but I interject before he can say anything. “You don’t owe me an explanation—”

  “Yes, I do.” He rushes to interrupt.

  “No.” It’s just one word, but the weight behind it is fierce.

  I’ve been so wrapped up in myself, that judging by the healing scars, this has been going on for a while. And I know there’s probably nothing I could have done, but I can start now by being there for him.

  I lift the towel and move to his left leg. He makes a pained noise when I put pressure on it. “You gotta talk to someone.” I say the words quietly.

  “Don’t think I’m alone in that,” he says pointedly.

  I press my lips together. I pull the towel away and stand up. He takes the towel from me. “I’m not ready,” he says, looking at the bloody towel.

  “You know where I am when you’re ready. Or you might want to talk to Lucy.” There are still horrors about Lucy that I don’t know. And I think that’s why she’s latched on to Eloise, because unfortunately, they’ve got so much in common.

  “Everyone in Fordlandia is broken in some way,” I tell him.

  He nods and then walks over and sits on his bed. “So, uh, was there something you needed?” he asks.

  I let him drop the subject, because I know he needs to. “Just letting you know we’re headed to France,” I say, not bothering to ask him to come.

  “Be careful,” he says.

  “You too,” I tell him, and I look at his hunched profile for a beat longer.

  I take a deep breath, trying to focus my mind for what’s ahead. But it’s hard. There’s so much I want to do for him, but he’s got to want the help too.

  I blink and I’m standing in front of Tiberius’s door.

  Eleven

  “This is the place we’re going to transport to.” Lucy points to a park on the map. “Satellite photos show lots of trees, and at the moment it seems pretty deserted. That could change, obviously.” We all lean closer, looking at the computer monitor.

  All the trees are green, and grass is sprouting everywhere. It’s like a little medieval forest in the middle of a city.

  “Shouldn’t we wait until the sun goes down?” I ask, because even though it’s late fall in Brazil, it’s late spring in France.

  “If we wait too long the church will be closed,” Tiberius tells me from his spot leaning over Lucy’s desk chair.

  “I could just transport us into the church. Lucy could probably take care of their security.”

  She shakes her head. “This is just for scouting. We need to look like tourists. And I would need to disable the security from outside. I’ve never been in this building. Hopefully after today I’ll be able to remotely access it.”

  “Lucy’s right,” Xavier says from beside me. “You haven’t done enough missions yet to know how to blend in a crowd. This scouting mission calls for that so we can gather as much intel as possible.”

  I nod and turn my attention to the map and satellite photos. “Well, I think I’ve got it nailed down.”

  We all step back to allow Lucy to get out of her chair. “Heads up, Xavier, the first few long-distance transports might leave you a little dizzy, nauseous, and lightheaded,” Tiberius tells him.

  “Thanks for that,” he says, and then he looks at me, determination written all over his face.

  “Grab a hand, everyone,” I tell them.

  I concentrate on the image before me, focusing on a copse of trees along a stone wall. Hopefully that’ll cover our transport.

  I grip everyone’s hands, and in a blink we’re across the world.

  The park is still lit by the sun when we appear behind a massive tree. “One of these days we’re going to get caught,” I say, hearing voices not too far off.

  “Today’s not that day, though,” Lucy points out since we’re alone.

  Xavier’s hand slips from mine as he drops down in a crouch against the tree.

  “You all right down there?” I ask him.

  “Give me a se
cond,” he says in between deep breaths.

  After a minute or so he stands, shaking out his arms and legs.

  “Let’s head over to the church,” Tiberius says.

  We head out of the park and onto the busy street. “Tony didn’t want to come?” Xavier asks as he walks beside me. Lucy and Tiberius walk in front of us, pointing things out and generally acting like tourists.

  “Not this time,” I tell him.

  Part of me wants to tell him what I found so I’m not alone in this knowledge. But if I were going to tell anyone, it would be Lucy. And I don’t think he wants to kill himself, but I know what he’s doing isn’t healthy. But he’s not going to reach out until he’s ready. Telling someone could derail that, but I don’t think I can give him the luxury of time.

  “Maybe next time,” he says.

  “Yeah, maybe,” I say, but even I can tell that I don’t believe it. I think it would take something crazy, like me getting kidnapped, to drag him away from Fordlandia.

  People bustle by us on the street, some smiling as we pass, others looking at all the sites to see. The number of languages is astounding. The different cultures are so interesting it makes me want to explore.

  After walking for fifteen minutes, we turn the corner and a large sand-colored brick church towers above us. It’s adorned with gothic and medieval peaks, but for some reason I thought it would have more adornments. It’s quite plain. People stroll around the grounds, others coming and going from inside, and a few sit staring up at the grand building.

  “Let’s get inside before we can’t,” Lucy says.

  We walk through the large wooden doors, and I take in a huge breath. The place is stunning. The plain façade outside truly hides something striking within. The stonework is beautifully carved, and the paintings on the wall are amazing. The scent of incense hangs heavy in the air. “This place is super cool,” I whisper, because it feels like the right thing to do.

  “I think the tomb is this way,” Xavier says.

  We move closer to it and I come up alongside Tiberius. “You getting anything?” I ask.

  “No,” he says, sounding genuinely confused.

  Xavier gets close to the wall and puts his palm on it. He bows his head as if he’s praying, and I look around. There’s a piece of paper on a nearby pew. I pick it up. Nostradamus is written across the top. I keep reading.

  “Find something?” Lucy asks as she sidles up close to me.

  “Yeah, apparently there’s a curse on Nostradamus’s tomb, and all the people that moved his body have died,” I tell her.

  “It does not say that.” She snatches the paper out of my hand. Her eyes dart back and forth across the page. “Whoa.”

  “I know, right? No wonder what’s left of his bones is secured behind a thick stone wall,” I say, pointing towards the tomb.

  I turn back to look at Xavier. His face is angled towards us and is pulled into a grimace. I head over and place a hand on his arm, hoping he’ll see farther into the past. He gasps and steps back, his eyes shooting to mine. “What are you doing?” he asks.

  He knows something is up with me, and I can’t hide it from him for much longer, but this isn’t the place. “Later,” I tell him, lifting his arm back up.

  He puts his palm back on the wall, and a small shudder works through him.

  “Did you get anything?” Tiberius asks.

  “Lots,” Xavier tells him. His face looks haunted, and he keeps opening his mouth and closing it. Like he wants to tell us something, but not here.

  “Good, let’s get out of here and we can talk more at home.” Tiberius looks over his shoulder, searching for his wife. “Lucy,” he calls for her.

  She’s taking pictures on her phone like a tourist, but I watch her take the last one of a camera that’s pointing at the wall the three of us are standing at. “I’m ready,” she says.

  We walk down a hall, giving a wave to the passing priest. As soon as we’re out of the building, Tiberius leads us down a street and into a side alley. He looks up and I follow his gaze, searching for cameras. “Looks like we’re good to go,” I say.

  I grasp their hands and transport us back to Tiberius’s living room.

  * * *

  “You’re not going to believe who I saw,” Xavier says as soon as we appear in Tiberius’s living room, his long raven hair streaming out behind him as he paces between the couches.

  “Who?” I ask, having no clue.

  “Chelsea,” he says, practically spitting her name out.

  “Who’s Chelsea?” Lucy asks, taking a seat at her desk. She pulls up her computer and starts typing at a rapid pace.

  “She’s Mr. Rivers’s personal assistant,” I tell them, and then a memory from Gregory strikes, and my heart races. “Gregory was pretty sure she’s one of us—”

  “What?” Xavier cuts me off.

  The words start coming quickly. “He read Mr. Rivers’s thoughts about someone being a ‘null.’ And he could never read her or Mr. Rivers when she was around. He was thinking that she could nullify powers,” I tell them.

  Lucy stops typing and slowly turns to us in her chair, and Tiberius sits down heavily on the couch. “Does that mean she could block someone like Tiberius from finding people?” Xavier asks.

  “I think it does,” Tiberius says, his voice heavy with concern. “It would also render any power useless.”

  The severity of a null settles on all of us. What does this mean? “Do you think Mr. Rivers knows about her involvement?” I ask. “Is Mr. Rivers behind all of this?”

  Xavier starts shaking his head. “No. No way. Mr. Smith would know right away since you can’t lie to him.” He keeps shaking his head.

  “Yeah, but Mr. Rivers can control people, so couldn’t he make it so Mr. Smith would always believe him? Or couldn’t Chelsea block Mr. Smith’s abilities?”

  “Wait a minute. Someone can control people?” Lucy’s voice rises at the end of her question.

  “He has the power of suggestion. Not mind control,” Xavier says.

  “Same thing,” I say, throwing my hands up in the air.

  Tiberius holds his hands out, trying to calm us down. “Hold on a minute. We can’t start jumping to conclusions without more facts. Did you see anyone else?” Tiberius asks.

  “Not that I recognized. She was mostly walking past the tomb,” Xavier says.

  “Is there any way to know if that place has a basement or a tunnel underground connecting it to something?” I ask. “There has to be a reason she’s at the church. I highly doubt it’s to save her soul.”

  “I’ll pull up the blueprints in a moment, but first I need to erase us from their servers. They had so many cameras around the area. And if someone like Mr. Rivers is involved, we don’t want them to know we were there,” Lucy tells us. She turns back to her computer and starts typing furiously again.

  “What now?” I ask.

  “We need a plan, because there’s something big going on there,” Xavier says. “We need to do it for Eloise and whoever else is involved. After what I saw happened to that little girl and her parents”—he takes a deep breath—“I’m more invested than ever now.”

  “Don’t you have to check in with Mr. Smith? Isn’t Raven wondering where you are?” I ask.

  “In a few days I’ll have to check in, but for now, it’s fine. And even when I do, I won’t tell them about this place,” he says on a promise.

  How can he promise that? Isn’t he worried about them tracking him? I guess Lucy could help him make sure he’s untraceable, but a lot more people’s lives are at stake aside from us. And he can’t even lie to Mr. Smith.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Tiberius says. “For now, let’s let Lucy do her job and we’ll go from there.”

  I hate the waiting. The planning. But until Lucy gets the layout of the building, I can’t do anything. I guess I could transport there and look around. Place is probably deserted anyways. A thought bursts into my mind. Maybe I should talk to Tony.r />
  Twelve

  “I can’t,” Tony tells me for the tenth time, his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

  “Please,” I beg, stepping closer to him.

  “Becca,” he says, pleading me to stop.

  I get that he’s scared, but it just feels like something else is stopping him. And I can’t put my finger on it, but maybe if I tell him what more I can do, it’ll convince him. “What if you could see through walls?” I ask him.

  He takes a step back from me. His face scrunches like he doesn’t get what I’m asking.

  “Just listen for a minute, okay?” I ask him.

  He stands silent, waiting, and I take that as my go-ahead. “Tiberius is my dad’s brother,” I tell him.

  His arms drop to his sides. “What?” So many emotions flicker across his face: hurt, confusion, anger.

  I get it. I kept this from him on purpose. Aside from Lucy, Walter, and Xavier, no one really knows. We made that decision so it couldn’t be used against us, but it’s time to change that. So I tell Tony about my dad, how he’s Tiberius’s identical twin, about them being adopted separately. I tell him everything.

  I take a deep breath. “I inherited powers from my dad too. He could enhance powers.”

  I wait for a response, but he just stands there, staring out into space, not saying anything. All the emotions I saw earlier are wiped clean, leaving nothing but a cold mask. “How long have you known?” he asks, his voice quiet.

  “Not long. The day before we rescued you in Myanmar. I took a chance transporting you to Walter, but I had to try. It’s why I can transport people now. And I think I could enhance your vision to look through walls.”

  His hand lashes out and grips my arm. “Does anyone else know about this?”

  “What’s wrong—”

  “Does anyone know?” he asks, squeezing harder.

  I transport a foot away from him and he stumbles forward. “What the hell’s your problem?” I ask, looking at the fading handprint on my arm.