by Eaton, Pam
Everyone looks at me, like it’s really just dawning on them how perfect of a weapon I really am. I’ve tried not to think about it too much.
Mr. Smith turns back to us, his face set in stone. “I won’t let that happen,” he says, full of conviction. “I won’t let him take any of you again.”
I’m glad he feels that way, but we’ve moved past what we want to do and now we need to focus on what we have to do. “We need a game plan, because he won’t stop until we make him,” I say to the group. “And I know he was your mentor, but that can’t matter anymore. Especially with what was done to Gregory.”
His whole body stiffens. I know that was a low blow, but now knowing that Gregory is his son, I expect so much more out of him. I don’t know what it’s like to have a kid, but I think if my dad was still alive, he would do anything to keep me safe. I’d bet he’d lay down his life for me. I know Grandpa did that for me. And I hope one day I can do something like that for my kids.
“What we need is more intel,” Mr. Smith addresses us. He stands taller, and I can see him shift back into the role of director of Project Lightning. “The more information we can gather, the better. With Gregory awake, hopefully he’ll be a wealth of knowledge. Tiberius, can you track Rivers now and tell us where he is?”
Tiberius nods. “With Becca’s help, yes, but if Chelsea is with him, I won’t be able to find him.”
“Give it a try,” Mr. Smith orders.
Tiberius grabs my hand and I think of Mr. Rivers. I picture the way he resembled a typical grandfather. His wrinkled hands, the cane he carries, his sweater vests, everything he used as a ruse to fool the rest of us.
Tiberius’s grip tightens and I keep pumping enhancing power into him, hoping we caught Mr. Rivers alone this time. After a minute or so, I watch his shoulders fall.
“Unless he died suddenly, he’s with Chelsea.”
Xavier curses and kicks at the ground.
“Damn it,” Mr. Smith mutters.
“We’ll keep trying,” Tiberius assures him and everyone else. “In the meantime, we might want to start searching for those who’ve helped him aside from Chelsea, Sariah, and Henderson.”
“Daemon,” Raven says.
“The fire guy?” I ask. “What’s going on between you two? Because the last time we saw him, he was shooting a fireball at us outside of D.C.”
She lifts helpless eyes to Mr. Smith. But he stays silent. “He was recruited the same time I was,” she finally tells us. “He left Project Lightning around five years ago. Myanmar was the first time I’ve seen him since.”
An arctic gust of wind slams into us. “We need to hurry this along before we all freeze to death,” Xavier says, his teeth chattering.
I want to know more about this Daemon guy, because there’s a connection there and I wonder if Raven can use it to get him onto our side. But I’m thinking I’ll have to wait to get her alone to talk about him.
“First off, no one talk about Becca’s other power, her father, or Tiberius being her uncle,” Mr. Smith says, laying down the law. “Secondly, we need to talk with Gregory about things. He’s our best shot at finding out what’s going on. I’ll do a sweep of his room and make sure it’s secure.
“Tiberius, I want you and Becca to keep searching for Mr. Rivers. Let’s plan on meeting again in two days, but next time how about a little bit of a warmer place?”
We all nod, and I’m ready to do whatever. Because this needs to end. “Everyone grab on,” I say and put my hands out. They all grab on and I close my eyes, picturing Mr. Smith’s office.
* * *
I haven’t seen Gregory in two days. And it’s not for a lack of trying. But I was told not to transport into the room. Every time I’ve gone to see Gregory, Mike has had to tell me, awkwardly, that he doesn’t want to see me. I’ve had enough, and when I go to visit him in an hour, he better see me or I’m not giving him the option.
I walk to Dex’s laboratory, curious as to what he’s up to today. Yesterday he was going on and on about quartz and how it could be used to heal. I just sat at a table, desperately trying to have him distract me, but it was hopeless. Tiberius and I have tried finding Mr. Rivers, but Chelsea hasn’t left him. So instead of following along with how clear quartz is better than rose quartz, I kept trying to think about where Rivers is and what his next move could be.
My thoughts stray there now too. It’s taking over my every waking thought and my sleep too. I reach Dex’s door and lift a hand to knock, but the sound of voices stays my hand. Maybe I should come back. The voices rise in irritation, so I press my ear to the crack in the double doors like a five-year-old.
“That’s just not possible,” Dex says, completely exasperated. “I’m pretty sure it goes against the laws of nature.”
Against the laws of nature? What are they talking about?
“But this is what you do.” It feels like everything stops at the sound of that voice, like the world quits turning.
I shove the doors open, not caring anymore that I’m interrupting. Dex sees me first, his cheeks turning a bright red. But I only give him a cursory glance, because my glare is centered on Gregory leaning against one of the worktables. “Can’t talk to me for one minute, but you’ll drag yourself all the way down here? How nice.”
He finally looks at me. It’s obvious he’s in pain even if he’s trying to hide it. Does Dex not see the sweat beading across Gregory’s forehead, or the way his brows are scrunched? I don’t even know how he’s supporting himself on that table. The guy has broken ribs and if he isn’t careful, he could puncture a lung. What is he doing out of the infirmary? And what is he doing here?
“You should be in bed.” I scold him like he’s a kid. Did no one say anything when he got up and left?
“I’m not asking for your help,” he tells me, his voice short of breath.
Dex makes his way towards the door like he can’t get there fast enough. “I’ll just…be back in a minute,” he says and then bolts.
“What is wrong with you?” I ask Gregory.
“Nothing,” he says, looking anywhere but at me.
“Bull,” I spit out.
He runs a shaky hand through his hair. “Can we not do this right now? I’m tired.”
“Too bad.”
He finally looks at me. “What?”
I throw my arms up in the air. “You heard me. And too bad. I’m not letting you hide behind some guards who, newsflash, can’t actually keep me out of there. I want to know what your problem is. I want to know why you refuse to see me. What changed? Why are you acting like a jerk? I know it’s not because of Mr. Smith.”
He shuffles a few feet over to a chair and slowly lowers himself into it. His face pulls in a grimace. And part of me, a teeny tiny part, feels bad for pushing him right now, but he needs to answer my questions.
“You should have told me.” The words rush out guttural, either from the pain or anger. Probably both.
“When? During the time you were in a coma? Or when you and I shared a dream?” He shudders at the mention of his dream, but I press on. “Or how about the fact that he asked me not to tell you? He asked me so he could be the one to tell you. It wasn’t my place.”
“It damn well was!” He swipes an arm out, knocking test tubes to the floor. I jump back from the shattered glass aimed my way. Poor Dex. I hope that wasn’t important.
“What are you actually mad about?” I try to keep my voice neutral, but it’s a strain.
He pounds a fist into the table. “I can’t do this with you.”
My heart rate speeds up and fear dances up my spine. “Do what?” I ask cautiously.
“We were never supposed to be together in the first place.”
I walk over and get right into his space. “Don’t. You. Dare. You do not get to make that decision now, after everything.”
He puts a hand up in a helpless gesture, but I knock it down. “You don’t get to be a coward now.”
All the anger rushes
out as fast as it came. His shoulders curve in and everything else about him seems to deflate. “I’ve changed, Becca. I’m not the same guy I was before.”
“And you think I’m the same? You think I didn’t change when I saw my grandparents murdered? How about when I rescued those people? Or when I was tortured? Do you think it didn’t affect me watching what Henderson did to you? Well, guess what. Neither of us are the same. Now we need each other more than ever. And considering that both our parents broke the rules, I don’t care about them at all.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
I grab him, and before he can protest and before I back out, I transport us straight into the packed cafeteria.
A room full of voices hit me right away. Gregory looks around, face scrunched up. “What are you—”
I cut him off by grabbing him by the shirt, going up on my toes, and pressing my lips against his. For a second he doesn’t react and my stomach bottoms out. The noise in the cafeteria has completely vanished and I can feel my face flaming. But after only a brief hesitation, he kisses me back.
He threads his hands through the hair at the nape of my neck. I grab onto his shoulders, looking for better purchase. His lips move against mine and my heart for the first time in months feels light and free.
I fall back down onto flat feet and he leans his forehead against mine.
This is what we need. When are you going to realize we’re better together than apart? I let my mind whisper the question. Hoping it can convey everything I can’t say in words.
I don’t want to disappoint you. I’m broken, Becca.
We’re all broken. We just need to find the right people to help piece us back together.
We stand there, breathing each other in, but a tap on my shoulder breaks the spell. “So, that was quite the show. But, uh, Gregory, you’re looking kind of pale,” Xavier says to us.
Gregory lets out a strained laugh. “Got to shake things up now and again.”
“Well, they’re all definitely intrigued,” Xavier says motioning around.
I peek around Gregory’s shoulder, and sure enough there are plenty of jaws on the floor. Probably because not all of them knew I could transport, not to mention the whole non-fraternization rule we’re supposed to abide by.
I feel Gregory sway a little. I pull back so I can look at his face. Xavier’s right; we need to get Gregory back to his bed now. “Let’s get you back to the infirmary,” I tell him.
He nods and I close my eyes, picturing his temporary room for the past several days.
* * *
“Heard you put on a bit of a show in the cafeteria,” are the first words out of Mr. Smith’s mouth when he sees us.
Man, news travels fast around here. We’ve only been back in the infirmary for like five minutes. “I’m not going to apologize,” Gregory tells him, and I kind of want to high five him, but that might be a little inappropriate right now.
Gregory laughs lightly beside me.
“We’ve got a lot of bigger things going on right now other than your relationship. I want to talk about Mr. Rivers.”
Gregory lets out a strained breath.
“It’s time,” Mr. Smith says in a gentle tone.
I gently push Gregory back so he’s lying in his bed, hoping he’ll at least relax.
Gregory runs his hands over his face. He doesn’t want to tell us, but what if he could show us? “If I help, do you think you could show us your memories?”
That makes both men pause. Usually it’s others showing Gregory, but why wouldn’t it work the other way around? “It might be easier for you. And I think it’ll let us know a heck of a lot more,” I tell him.
Aside from his one dream, we haven’t done anything like this. He grabs one of my hands and I grab one of Mr. Smith’s. “How should we do this?” Gregory asks.
I squeeze his hand and offer him a small smile. “Just picture it in your mind like a movie you want to show us. And hopefully I’ll be able to let us view it,” I tell him.
“You’re going to see things I wish you hadn’t,” he warns.
I give him a small smile. “You hear things all the time that I wish you hadn’t.”
He smirks. “I suppose so.”
I turn to Mr. Smith. “Close your eyes. I don’t know why, but it helps.”
Thirty-One
We’re in the room underneath the church, where we found Gregory in France. But instead of Gregory being in a coma, he’s awake and strapped to the bed I found him in.
Footsteps slowly walk closer to his body. “You know, Mr. Smith always talks like you’re going to be his successor, but I just can’t see it.” Rivers bends down so he’s eye-level with Gregory. “Maybe it’s because you screamed a lot quicker than I thought you would.”
Gregory spits into Rivers’s face, and that earns him a powerful slap across the face. “That was not very nice,” Rivers says while he takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes his cheek.
It’s weird being in Gregory’s mind like this. It’s like watching a movie, but also being inside of it too. But it’s nothing like the dream of his I stumbled into.
Mr. Rivers sits down on the edge of the bed Gregory’s strapped to, acting like he’s getting ready to have a pleasant conversation. “You know, I thought Becca would have found you by now. Maybe she just didn’t care enough about you. Or maybe she’s with Tony instead.”
His hands stay perched on top of his cane. His face is the perfect mask of concern, but his eyes show the malice lurking underneath, and that’s something we’ve all missed. “Are you okay with her moving on? I don’t think I would have appreciated my sweetheart forgetting me so quickly. Would make me think there wasn’t much there to begin with.”
Gregory grits his teeth, but he doesn’t utter a word.
“I don’t really need you to talk right now. But you better listen. Because I’m going to find Becca, and when I do, she’ll be one of my prize experiments. I’ll keep her alive, but I will take whatever I need from her body. She’ll feel pain, she’ll be in agony, and she’ll be alone. But I’ll let her know you led me right to her. She’ll get to keep that memory until she dies.”
The images Gregory’s showing us shift, and soon we’re watching Chelsea talk with Sariah.
“Any luck bringing me more kids?” Chelsea asks.
Gregory watches the two from his bed across the room.
Sariah’s face pinches in disgust. “Yes.” She practically spits the word out.
“And where is the child?” Chelsea asks, looking down at her tablet.
“She’s in the other room with her parents.”
Chelsea’s head snaps up. “You took a family? What is wrong with you? I told you children. We don’t need any adults.”
Sariah runs an agitated hand through her hair. “Doesn’t matter now, we have all three.”
“Well then, take care of the parents. We don’t need them.” She says it so nonchalantly, like it isn’t a big deal to go ahead and kill someone.
Sariah starts shaking her head and backing up with her hands in the air. “No. I’m drawing a line. You want that done, then you need someone else to do it.”
“Fine. Henderson won’t care.”
Eloise’s face comes into view as she and her parents are dragged into the room. Tears are streaming down her face as she clings to her mother’s leg. Her mom keeps trying to say things to her in a soothing voice, but Eloise just grabs on to her mom’s leg tighter, screaming in denial.
Gregory and Eloise watch what becomes of her parents. And my heart shatters. How does she go on from this? How do any of us?
The scene shifts again, and Gregory is being dragged down the hallway I saw in his dream. But this time must be one of the firsts, because he’s fighting back. Only he’s not strong enough when Henderson multiplies. The scarred wooden door looms ahead, and I can’t take anymore.
I break the connection, dropping both of their hands. I stand up and pace the room, trying to
calm my nauseated stomach.
“That’s not the man I know,” Mr. Smith says, his voice hardly above a whisper.
“Yeah, well, that man is pure evil,” I say, still pacing back and forth.
“He wants you, Becca,” Gregory practically growls.
“It doesn’t matter that all he knows right now is that I can do more with my power than I should be able to. He can’t have me.” I hold my hand up, halting whatever is going to come out of his mouth. “They caught me once, but not for long. I got rescued from that. We both did. We have more information now, and we don’t go against them with such small numbers again. And no more playing the martyr.”
“Who was a martyr?” Mr. Smith asks.
I point at Gregory. “Pretty sure that’s what happened in Myanmar.”
Mr. Smith’s face snaps towards Gregory. “He told me that if I didn’t come with him right then, he would shoot everyone in the room,” Gregory says, leaning towards me.
I plant my hands on my hips. “Obviously, that was a lie.”
“You didn’t have to see the plans in his mind. I did,” he says pointing at his head.
“It’s the same thing I told Tony. You aren’t alone in this. You’re part of a team. We start going off alone and we’re all going to die. You need to trust us.”
Mr. Smith raises his brow at that and makes a tsking sound.
“What?” I ask him, completely annoyed.
He straightens the sleeves of his suit jacket. “Nothing. Just the way I heard it, you were doing some vigilante activities in relation to those labs you all found.”
I avert my eyes. “Yeah, well, I’ve got my head on straight now,” I say and Gregory scoffs, but I ignore it.
“Good to know,” Mr. Smith says.
“So now what?” I ask, not wanting to fight with Gregory anymore.
Mr. Smith stands from his chair. “I need to speak with Tony about his time in Myanmar. We need to visit this location in France again, see if it’s still active. I’m assuming not. Gregory, I want you to try to list all the people that were working for Mr. Rivers. Sound good?”
