by Eaton, Pam
The next thirty minutes are filled with talk radio and the sounds of passing cars on the freeway until Tiberius directs Xavier off the highway.
As Xavier continues to follow instructions, things start to look recognizable. And as we pull up in front of a huge familiar home, my heart starts to race.
I unbuckle and scoot forward until I’m right next to Tiberius. “How do you know about this house?” I ask him.
I can feel the others’ eyes on me, but I stay focused on my uncle.
“A friend of mine owns it,” he says, looking super confused.
I point at the house. “I’ve been here. I’ve stayed here,” I tell him.
Everyone freezes. “When?” he asks me.
“Grandpa brought us here the night before I went to Project Lightning for the first time. He said it belonged to a friend of his.”
The front door of the house opens, making us all turn and watch Daemon run for the car, his hands outstretched. “Go!” I scream. “They’re here!”
Xavier puts the car in drive and punches the gas. My body flies back, slamming into the seat and then the door. Tony tries to grab a hold of me, but I watch his eyes widen in horror. A large ball of fire slams into the SUV. It rocks to the side, throwing me into Tony’s lap.
“Keep going,” Tiberius orders.
The SUV drops back down onto all four wheels. I scramble off Tony and look out the back windshield. “Get down, Becca!” Tony roars as he dives on top of me, right before the back window shatters.
“They’re shooting at us,” Tony yells.
“Kind of figured that with the window shattering,” Xavier says. He jerks the steering wheel and we fly around the bend. “Becca, get buckled up; I’ve got to get us out of here.”
More shots hit the back of the car. “We’ve got two cars coming up hot behind us,” Tiberius says.
Xavier takes a couple more turns and I don’t know how the car doesn’t flip onto its side. “They’re gaining,” Tony yells at them.
“I know,” Xavier says through gritted teeth.
A field comes into view on our right. “Xavier, head for the field. I’ve got an idea,” I tell him.
“What? Why?” he asks.
“I’m going to transport us to headquarters,” I tell him, still trapped under Tony.
Tiberius looks back at me, his eyes wide. “Have you done that from a moving vehicle?” he asks.
Tony pushes my head back down, saving us from a spray of bullets. “It doesn’t matter. We’re going to die or get kidnapped if I don’t. I won’t let them take me again,” I tell him with as much venom in my voice as I can muster.
There’s a beat of silence before I catch Tiberius’s nod. I grab Tony and we wedge ourselves close to the front. “Grab my arm, Tiberius,” I tell him, and he does.
I lay my hand on Xavier and as I’m closing my eyes, a car barrels into the side of us.
Twenty-Two
“What the hell?”
I never thought I’d be so happy to hear Mr. Smith’s voice, even if it sounds like he’s ready to murder one of us. I open my eyes to see him staring in complete shock at the four of us sprawled across the ground.
I look at the guys, making sure we all made it, and suck in a sharp breath. “Tiberius, you’re bleeding.”
“I am?” he turns to look at his arm and Mr. Smith comes crashing from behind his desk.
Mr. Smith tackles Tiberius to the ground, causing all hell to break lose. Xavier tries to grab Mr. Smith, but he’s kicked backwards. Tony stands there, his mouth dropped open. If I didn’t think my uncle was about to be killed, I’d laugh at the ridiculousness of all this.
Tiberius and Mr. Smith roll around the ground until Mr. Smith pins my uncle to the carpet.
“Who the hell are you?” Mr. Smith roars the question.
I rush over and hop onto Mr. Smith’s back, making me yell out a pain-filled curse. “Stop,” I tell him, panting through the pain.
Mr. Smith looks up at me. “He’s my uncle,” I tell him.
“How?” he demands.
I fall to his side, jarring my ribs again. I’m never going to heal at this rate. “Dad had a twin brother,” I rush out the words.
He relaxes instantly because he knows I can’t lie to him; no one can. He pushes himself off of Tiberius and stands, brushing off his suit.
Tiberius takes a little bit longer to get up. That’s when we notice the blood everywhere. “I think a bullet nicked you,” I say, crawling over to him.
He looks at his sleeve. “Looks like it’s just a graze,” he says.
“Just a graze!?” I want to shake the man. “Can we please go at least one week without someone getting hurt?”
“I’m fine,” he says, placing a hand on my arm to calm me down.
“Still might need stitches,” Xavier says, coming closer to look at it.
“Will someone please tell me what is going on?” Mr. Smith demands, throwing his hands up in the air.
Tony moves closer to us, startling Mr. Smith. “Tony?” he asks, like he just realized Tony’s there.
“Hey, boss,” he answers, rocking back and forth on his heels.
Mr. Smith walks closer to him, and all of us tense. Tony’s eyes widen and find mine. I bite my lip, not sure how this is going to go. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he tells Tony, reaching out and gripping his shoulder.
“Getting there,” Tony replies, eyes averted.
“We were on our way here. And we were stopping at a safehouse when we were ambushed,” Xavier says, breaking the tension. “We almost didn’t make it here. Guessing Tiberius got hit right before we transported.”
Mr. Smith opens his mouth, but he snaps it closed. His eyes flit around us, calculating. “Wait, why aren’t you all on the ground from Becca transporting all of you?” he asks.
I rub the back of my neck. “A lot has changed,” I say.
“That’s an understatement,” Tony says from beside me.
Mr. Smith keeps looking at Tiberius. He rubs a hand over his face. “I can’t deal with all this right now.”
My jaw drops. This is the second time in a week I’ve seen Mr. Smith lose his cool, and I’ve got no clue how to handle it.
So like we all have learned to do…I change the subject.
“How’s Gregory?” I ask. “Can we see him?”
“They’re bringing him out of his coma today,” he tells me. “We were waiting for you all to get here. Let’s head over there now,” he points at Tiberius. “They can fix him up while we’re there.”
“Will anyone recognize him?” Xavier asks.
That makes Mr. Smith pause in his tracks. He shares a long look with my uncle. “Not much we can do about that now.”
Tiberius raises a finger. “Actually, we might.” He pulls out his hat and puts it on. He hits a button on the side and his face completely transforms. Mr. Smith takes a surprised step back.
“I’ve never seen technology like that,” he says in awe.
“My wife is pretty handy,” Tiberius says with pride.
Mr. Smith studies him and then shakes his head before he moves for the door.
We all file in behind him. “Do you think Gregory will be okay?” I ask Mr. Smith softly.
“I hope so,” is his response.
We follow him down the stark white hallways until we reach a set of double doors. Mr. Smith puts his hand on the scanner to the right on the wall. He leans forward and a red laser scans his eye. The door swings open and we continue through to another set of doors. Two guards stand on either side. They both stand a little taller when they see who’s coming, except one falters. Mike.
He moves away from the door and steps in front of Tony. I don’t know what he sees. Maybe he notices the weight Tony’s lost, or the black smudges under his eyes. Or maybe he can sense some of the light that’s been snuffed out of him.
“Hey, Mike,” Tony says, crossing his arms tight over his chest.
He blinks a couple times, like he
doesn’t trust his eyes. “Where’ve you been, man?” Mike asks, not bothering to hide the hurt in his voice.
We all stand there in the overwhelming awkwardness, but thankfully Mr. Smith puts a swift end to that. He puts a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “They’ll be here for a while, so you’ll get to talk soon. But Gregory is being brought out of his coma and we need to be in there.”
It’s like Mike just realized there’re a bunch of us standing there. “Uh, yeah. Sorry. Of course,” he rambles.
Mr. Smith heads into the room, and we file in behind him. But I still see Tony stop, lean close to Mike, and have a quick, quiet conversation.
I turn back around and brace myself. I’ve been trying to put thoughts of Gregory to the side, because there was nothing I could do. And the more I would think about it, the more anxious I’d get.
We walk on silent feet into the room. I can’t see anything yet. And then the guys part, and there he is.
Gregory.
His face looks thinner, and his arms have lost a lot of muscle. He looks so much younger lying in that hospital bed. And the guilt of not finding him sooner starts to engulf me. What if I’d gone back to Project Lightning instead of fleeing to Brazil? What if I’d kept having Tiberius search for him? What if I’d gone to Mr. Smith sooner? So many questions and scenarios swarming around in my mind, making my stomach clench in agony.
“Stop,” Tiberius orders me, and it halts the overwhelming feeling threatening to suffocate me. “I can see the guilt written all over your face. You didn’t know. There’s no way you could have known. Even if I had looked right away, we wouldn’t have found him because Chelsea was blocking his power.”
I take a deep breath and try to let his words set in. It helps, but only a tiny bit. So I push it to the back of my mind and focus on the doctor talking with Mr. Smith.
“There’s no telling how long it’ll take him to wake up. Some people come to quickly, and others take a while. From our scans there’s plenty of brain activity, so I’m confident that he will wake up. I just can’t tell you when.”
Everyone in my group deflates at the news. Mr. Smith continues talking with the doctor, so I walk over to Gregory’s side.
I reach for his hand, and the warmth of his skin eases some of the tension crippling me. Dr. Wilkens said he had lots of brain activity; hopefully that means he can read my mind.
I really need you to wake up. There’s so much going on, and we need you. I need you. I miss you. These last several months have been hell thinking you were gone. But now you need to come back to us.
I squeeze his hand and watch the rise and fall of his chest. It’s hard, because he looks like he’s sleeping and I just want to shake him to wake him up, but I know that won’t work.
Tiberius walks over to my side and leans down to whisper in my ear. “Have you ever tried to use your other power with him?” he asks.
A memory flashes in my mind, of Gregory crouched down next to me in the stairwell in Myanmar. I heard his thoughts that day, and I shouldn’t have. “Yes,” I whisper back.
I turn and look up at him. His face just shows concern, so I do my best to school my features as well.
“Try it now, but be careful,” he warns. And I know why; we’re still keeping it secret that I can enhance powers.
I grip Gregory’s hand again and close my eyes. I push my enhancing ability into him.
Gregory? Can you hear me? I ask the question in my mind, hoping he’ll hear it, but I doubt this will work. He’s technically still in a coma.
Becca?
I drop his hand.
“Everything okay?” Mr. Smith asks from across the room.
“Yeah. Just want him to wake up, ya know?” I say, using the truth to cover what I’m doing.
He nods and turns back toward Xavier. I pick up Gregory’s hand again. You still there? Sorry for dropping the connection earlier.
I’m here. How is this even possible?
That’s for later. Are you okay? Do you even know what’s going on? I don’t know if he can hear the desperation in my thoughts, but it’s there and it’s strong.
My brain feels foggy.
I’m not surprised. They’re bringing you out of a coma right now.
Where am I?
At headquarters. I found you in France.
France? He sounds so confused, but I won’t tell him more. He needs to be clear-headed for that conversation.
We’ll talk more when you wake up. Just please wake up. I need you.
I’m trying. I take that promise, and I hold it close to my heart. If he tells me he’s trying, then I believe him.
I’ll see you soon.
I drop his hand and move away from his bedside. Xavier walks up next to me. “Did you feel him twitch or anything?” he asks, sounding so hopeful, and I wish I could be honest with him, but it always has to be half-truths.
“No twitching, but I talked to him. I’m confident he heard my thoughts.”
He stares at Gregory and I hope he doesn’t touch the chair I was just sitting in, because he’ll see the conversation I just had with Tiberius. I didn’t even think about that until right now. For all I know he already knows I have another power and is keeping my secret. Even if he does, I’m praying he won’t understand what it is.
I step away from Xavier and Tony walks up to me. “Anything?” he asks. “I lipread your conversation with Xavier.”
I tilt my head to the side and look him square in the eye. “You give me a hard time for popping in places, and you just basically eavesdropped on my private conversation.”
He waves away my comment. “Well?” he asks.
“He’s trying to wake up,” I whisper to him.
He nods, but I watch his fingers continually tap the side of his leg. “You doing okay?” I ask him.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
I raise my brows at him. “I promise,” he says.
We stand against the wall for the next two hours. Not talking, but neither are Tiberius or Xavier, or anyone else in the room. Occasionally Mr. Smith will ask the doctor questions, but other than that, and the beeping of machines, it’s quiet.
“He’s moving,” Xavier says, waving us all over.
We rush over to Gregory’s bed. “What did he just say?” Mr. Smith asks.
Did he just…?
“I’m not sure,” Dr. Wilkens tells him.
“Becca,” Gregory murmurs more clearly, and everyone turns to face me.
Twenty-Three
My cheeks catch fire. “What?” I ask, lifting my shoulders.
Mr. Smith shoots me a look, letting me know we’ll talk more about this later. But whatever, the guy obviously had a relationship with another person of power, otherwise Gregory wouldn’t even be here. So he no longer has a leg to stand on.
“Gregory? Can you hear me?” Dr. Wilkens asks as he leans over Gregory with his stethoscope.
Gregory’s head moves back and forth a little on the pillow, his face pulling in a grimace. The doctor grabs Gregory’s hand. “If you can hear and understand me, I want you to give me a squeeze,” he says.
We all zero in on their joined hands, and I swear everyone in the room holds their breath. It’s not much of a squeeze, but we all watch Gregory’s hand slightly flinch. Everyone lets out a collective whoosh of air. I knew he was going to wake up, but the fear that he wouldn’t kept creeping in.
Dr. Wilkens pats Gregory’s arm. “Good. Now don’t worry about opening your eyes. Your body has been in a coma for a while. But when you’re ready, there are a lot of people eager to see you,” the doctor tells him, and then he places Gregory’s hand back on his chest.
We all watch, waiting for Gregory to do something else, but it’s like he’s back in the coma. The doctor turns and addresses all of us. “Even though he’s been in a coma for some months, his body is exhausted. He’ll be in and out of sleep for a bit. His muscles are also severely diminished. He’s going to need some physical therapy and probably occupational therapy
.”
“I’ll arrange all that,” Mr. Smith tells him without hesitation.
Dr. Wilkens nods. “Good. I suggest you all get something to eat and rest. He probably won’t really be able to talk with you until the morning.”
Mr. Smith ushers us all out of the room and stops us on the other side of the double doors. “You heard the doctor. Get some food and then let’s meet back in my office so we can figure out who’s behind this.”
“We already know it’s Mr. Rivers,” I say, totally not caring about the two guards standing behind us manning the door. They must have changed shifts, because Mike isn’t there anymore.
“What on earth makes you think it’s him?” he asks, leveling me with a lethal glare.
“Uh, Chelsea, his assistant, who tortured Gregory and me. She kept talking to someone on the phone. Who else do you think is behind all of this?” I wave my hands around.
“Until I have concrete proof, I won’t accuse him of anything.” His voice is deathly calm, and it has zero effect on me.
“Are you freaking crazy?” I yell my question, and Tiberius and Tony both grab one of my arms. “Open your eyes. This whole organization has been infiltrated—”
“Enough,” he says firmly, slashing his hand through the air. He runs an agitated hand through his hair. “We’ll wait for Gregory,” he says and then leaves our group standing there.
I know my jaw is hanging wide open. “How can he be in denial about this?”
“Mr. Rivers has been his mentor for years, decades even,” Xavier says.
I turn to Tony. “Did you ever see an old guy in Myanmar?” I ask him, just realizing he’s never even met Rivers.
“No,” he says, his fists clenching and unclenching. He clears his throat a few times. “They talked with someone in charge on their cells, but they never used names when they were on the phone.”
I know he’s uncomfortable telling us all this. We really haven’t been able to get him to talk about what went down in Myanmar. The others might not realize it, but this is a huge step for him.
