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Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3

Page 17

by Karen McQuestion


  One of the men had a good grip on Mallory’s arms now and was pulling her out of the car head first. In a moment she’d be jerked out.

  I didn’t see any weapons or anything else. Just two guys in suits, one holding the door, the other yanking on Mallory. Both looked to be in their early thirties. They had an identical generic look: tall, medium build, short hair.

  “Hey!” I called out as I got closer. “Stop it!” In a second I was alongside them, but they didn’t pay any attention to me. “Hey,” I yelled again, and this time I put my hands on the arms of Mallory’s attacker, determined to pull him off of her.

  In the background I heard Carly screaming for me to come back to the car. When it became clear I wasn’t coming back, she changed tactics. “I’m calling the police,” she yelled, getting out of the car, but not moving any closer. “The cops will be here in two minutes.” This was for the benefit of the men, who didn’t seem at all worried. “Two minutes! I’m warning you.”

  “Let go of her,” I yelled, lunging toward Mallory’s attacker. I grabbed hold of his arms and pulled, but he had biceps like steel. I was a weakling compared to him, but I couldn’t give up because now I caught sight of Mallory’s face. She looked stunned and afraid. Seeing me she found her voice. “Please, let me go! Please.” Hearing her plead was heartbreaking.

  The man holding the door shoved me aside like I was a little kid, and I fell backwards onto the ground where I wound up looking up at the sky. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs. My head hit so hard that my vision was affected—seeing stars is how they show it in comic books, and that wasn’t too far from the truth. I pushed myself up off the asphalt and staggered to my feet unsteadily, like a drunk. Blinking, I saw that the one man had Mallory out of the car, and that she’d reacted by pulling her legs up to become dead weight. She screamed. No words, just the raw shrieks of someone completely terrified. The other guy grabbed hold of her legs, and the two carried her toward their car, which I now noticed had the trunk popped open.

  I ran in front of them and physically blocked them. Mallory’s eyes locked on mine as she kicked and flailed. I knew I was her last hope. “Put her down,” I said.

  They paused briefly before the taller of the two, the one holding Mallory’s legs, pulled something out of his pocket and pointed it at me. The device in his hand looked like a toy gun—black plastic with yellow stripes on the side. A taser. An instant later, I felt a surge of electricity shoot into my chest.

  The blast knocked me to my knees, and then I keeled over onto the pavement. I felt the voltage radiate from the point of impact, and for a second I thought my heart would stop. An intense pain made every muscle in my body contract. Every nerve ending screamed in agony.

  Mallory screamed, “Russ!”

  And then, something happened. Instead of the voltage defeating me, it expanded in my body and I turned it around and took control of it. The guy had no idea what he’d set off. I was the master of electricity, and he’d just given me more. Not only that, but he’d really pissed me off.

  Like an acrobat, I leaped up. Purely on instinct, I blasted him back, electricity shooting out of my palm into his chest. I threw what looked like a splash of lightning, and I did it with a vengeance. Until that moment I didn’t know I was capable of doing such a thing, but once I did it, it felt like my birthright. The man fell to his knees and clutched his front. In the process, he dropped the taser, which skidded several feet away from him. And then he screamed a truly horrible scream that echoed off the buildings of the industrial park. No one was around to hear it, except us.

  The second guy released Mallory, and she dropped to the ground. “Tim?” he said. Seeing his buddy convulsing in pain, his attention shifted to me. He took a step toward me, his face contorted in anger. He pulled something out of his pocket; I didn’t wait to see what it was, but let out another jolt of electricity. This time, not as much. Like sticking my thumb over the garden hose to hamper the flow of water, I found I could control the amount of electricity discharged from my hands.

  Flailing, he staggered back, and then he dropped to his knees. The handgun he’d pulled out of his pocket clattered to the ground. Like his partner, he wound up doubled over on the road, shrieking from the shock.

  Mallory managed to get up, and she took a step back as if they might suddenly regain the ability to grab her again. She gave me a look of wide-eyed wonder. “How did you do that?” she asked.

  Carly came rushing up and gaped as she saw the men writhing in pain on the road. “Oh man,” she said after a moment. “That’s something I haven’t seen in a really long time.”

  I looked at my palms expecting to see a change, but my hands were the same as they’d always been. The skin was intact, not red or injured or any different than before.

  Mallory asked, “What happened exactly?”

  Carly said, “Russ just shot lightning bolts out of his hands and electrocuted two of the Associates.”

  Mallory’s mouth dropped open. “How?” The question was directed at me, but my sister answered instead.

  “His body generates electricity and he expels it through his hands. I’ve seen it done before,” Carly said. “David could do it. The Associates desperately wanted him for that reason.”

  I stared at the men down on the ground, writhing in pain. They’d been stunned, and I was stunned in a different way. I’d jolted them reflexively, wanting to save Mallory from being abducted, and it had worked. But seeing them in so much pain, and knowing I had caused it, made me feel terrible, after the fact. This wasn’t a comic book. These were real people—adult men with mothers and fathers, and maybe wives and children.

  All my life, I’d never looked for a fight. It just wasn’t my personality. And this? This was so far removed from who I was. Or who I had been, anyway.

  While I stared numbly at them moaning and clutching themselves, Mallory and Carly debated what to do next. Mallory, still shaking, suggested we back up our cars and leave the men there, then drive home using another route. “Circle back and take the main roads,” she said. Carly agreed, and added we should call 911 anonymously and have an ambulance sent to this location. They discussed taking the taser and gun with us, and decided against it.

  Listening to them, I knew their plan sucked. You don’t leave injured men behind, even if they are the enemy. And in their present state, these guys could talk. We’d never be safe then. Somehow, some way, the Associates would be back and they’d try to get us again, especially now that they knew what I could do. No, we needed to finish this.

  Carly had her phone out and was just about to call when I said, “Don’t even. There’s a change of plan. We’re doing this my way.”

  I thought Carly was going to override me like she’s done nearly my entire life, but seeing me shoot electricity out of my palms apparently gave her a new respect for old Russ. “What did you have in mind?” she said.

  “I want to try something,” I said. “Using both my and Mallory’s powers, I think we can make this whole problem go away.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  After I explained my idea, Mallory and Carly looked impressed. “That could actually work,” Carly said.

  “But I’d have to touch them,” Mallory said, looking down at the men fearfully. They were quieter now, moaning quietly, their bodies still wracked with pain. “I don’t really want to touch them.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” I said. “I won’t let them hurt you. If they try anything else, I’m ready for them.” I curled my hands into fists, certain I could summon electric charges again if I needed to. It was a reassuring thought. Now I knew how weight-lifting guys felt when they flexed their muscles: prepared, capable, strong. Powerful. No wonder they acted so confidently.

  “I think if you’re going to do this you should do it quickly.” Carly glanced nervously down the road. “Before someone else comes along and we have to explain what happened.”

  “Are you ready?” I asked Mallory. She
still looked worried, but she nodded. “We can do this,” I said to her. “Together.”

  We both bent down over the first man, the one who’d tasered me, and I rolled him onto his back. Kneeling down and putting my hands on his chest, I tried to remember what I’d done when I’d healed Mallory’s cut. I knew I’d had a certain mindset, an emotion I’d tried to infuse from my hands to hers. Positive, loving energy. Easy to do with Mallory, but with this guy? Not so much. It might even be impossible, but I had to try.

  I held my hands firmly against him and focused all my thoughts and energy on the connection between us. We were two separate people linked now by skin and bone and blood and energy. Especially energy. Just like with Mallory, the energy from me hummed right at the point of contact and spread into his body until I could feel his cells beginning to recover from the very injury I’d inflicted. The man’s face grew less tense as I lifted away the pain. I raised my chin to Mallory to indicate it was her turn. Still hovering over us, Carly held the phone, ready to call 911 if this whole thing backfired.

  Mallory reluctantly placed her hands next to mine on the man’s chest. His eyes fluttered open at her touch, which seemed to unnerve her.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “It’s going to be fine.” She swallowed and then began just as he was reaching awareness. Somehow Mallory and I managed to be perfectly in sync. It reminded me of practicing CPR as a team, although in this case we were giving healing and false memory instead of life.

  She leaned over and spoke directly to him. “Listen carefully. This is the truth. You and your partner investigated all the kids in Edgewood and found that none of them came into contact with the light particles on the field. You’ve seen nothing out of the ordinary. You’ve concluded without a doubt that none of the teenagers in this town were affected by the light particles.”

  The other man, sprawled a few feet away, lifted his head and said, “Don’t listen to them, Tim. Be strong.” He tried to sit up but couldn’t.

  Carly nudged him with her foot. “Mind your own business.”

  “Don’t forget about the other part,” I said to Mallory. I felt my hands getting warmer as I delivered healing power. In my mind’s eye, I saw the damage I’d inflicted and I also sensed his body repairing itself with my energy.

  “Oh yeah.” Mallory shifted closer. “No matter what anyone tells you, you will be firm in your belief that nothing of importance happened in Edgewood. The person who was chased by your colleagues on Thursday night was just randomly walking by. He saw nothing.”

  “Good.” I gave her an approving look.

  Then she added a little something of her own. “Repeat what I just told you.”

  The other man moaned and said, “No, Tim, no.” We ignored him.

  Tim said, “Nothing happened in Edgewood. No teenagers came into contact with the light particles. We saw no evidence of anything out of the ordinary. The man who came by the field on Thursday night was a random passerby and is of no consequence.”

  “Perfect,” Mallory said. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “How sure?” she asked.

  “I would stake my life on it.”

  My part in this was over. Just like the sensation I had when Mallory’s cut was healed, I felt done. I held up my hands. “Finished,” I said.

  Mallory kept her palms pressed against the guy’s chest. “I want you to get up and stand next to your car. When your partner comes to the car, I want you both to get in and drive away. If you recall stopping, you’ll remember that one of you had to get out to pee. If you feel sick tomorrow, you’ll think you both picked up a flu bug. Leave Edgewood as soon as possible. You understand me, Tim?”

  “Yes, I understand.” And just like that, he rose up, brushed the dirt off his suit, and walked over to the waiting car. He was a human robot and Mallory was the one doing the programming.

  We watched him until Carly said, “Come on, come on. Let’s get going!”

  We both crouched over the other man and placed our hands over his chest. Since I hadn’t blasted him quite as hard, he was more aware and in less pain than the other guy. “Not going to listen,” he said in a soft voice when Mallory started her speech, but within a few minutes, he too was agreeing with everything she said. I concentrated on sending healing energy through my hands while she told him our version of reality, complete with their stop to pee and the flu bug they both might pick up the next day. “Do you understand?” she asked.

  “Yes, I understand,” he said.

  “Repeat it back to me.”

  And he did. I looked up at Carly like—Can you believe this? But she looked less awed than me, probably because she’d had sixteen years to get used to the idea of teenagers with superpowers.

  “One more thing,” Mallory said. “I need to know who the top person is in your organization. I want a name.”

  I gave her an appreciative look. She truly was a genius.

  “I can’t say,” he said.

  “You need to tell me.” Her voice was firm.

  “No,” he said. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know who’s in charge?” I asked. “Or you don’t want to tell?” Mallory and I exchanged puzzled looks. Why wasn’t her mind control working?

  The man didn’t answer me. It seemed that only Mallory could ask the questions and get a response. She repeated what I’d said. “You don’t know who’s in charge?”

  “No one knows, except those at the top.” He talked like someone who was half-asleep. “We call him the commander.”

  “Who do you report to then?” Mallory asked.

  “My division leader—Miller.”

  “What’s Miller’s full name?”

  “Just Miller. I don’t know any more than that.”

  Just a last name, and a pretty generic one at that. Mallory’s eyes met mine and she shrugged. “Okay then,” she said, and proceeded to reiterate the rest of the story. From the way she stressed how they were going to feel sick the next day, I got the feeling she was pretty sure this mind control was going to give them a kind of next day hangover. “Do you understand?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay then, get up and join your friend.” Mallory’s voice was kindly, like she was instructing a six-year-old.

  “Hurry up, hurry up!” Carly said. “This is taking too long.”

  The man didn’t hurry up, but walked at a steady clip. We got back into our cars and watched as the men climbed into their car, put their seat belts on, and drove away.

  “Do you think it will work?” I asked Carly.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” she said. “It seemed to.”

  We followed Mallory the rest of the way home in silence, not even listening to the radio. After Mallory’s car was safely inside a closed garage door, Carly drove me home. “Are you coming in?” I asked as we pulled into the driveway.

  “No, I have to get back,” she said. “Frank is at the neighbor’s. I said I’d only be gone a short time, and I hate to make him wait.”

  “Okay.” Maybe she was a better mom than I gave her credit for. I started to get out of the car and then thought of something. “Carly?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for watching out for me.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for that. You know I love you, right, Russ?”

  That last sentence took me by surprise, mostly because we were not a family who professed our love for each other. My dad always said the Beckers were from proud German stock. We were hard workers, on time, reliable. We’d do anything for each other, but we weren’t huggers or kissers or people who gushed. Maybe though, we should be.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said. I realized that I hadn’t quite known how she felt about me until that moment. Carly had always been a peripheral person in my life. Always there, but not really there. Flitting in and out of the house, lurking on the edges. We shared parents, but she felt like a young aunt or a much older cousin, not a sister. “But thanks for sayin
g it anyway.”

  “You’re welcome.” And then in true Carly fashion she had to throw in some lingo, just to show me she was up to date. “You know I’ve got your back, Russ. That’s how I roll.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t know anyone my age who talked like that unless they were being ironic.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  I slipped into the house and past my parents, who were, as usual, in front of the television, although they didn’t seem to be watching it. Mom flipped through a magazine, while Dad had his head tilted back and eyes closed. I knew if I mentioned this later he’d claim he was resting. He never admitted to falling asleep in the recliner. As I went by, I said, “I’m back. Good night,” and I headed upstairs before my mother asked any questions and I’d have to lie about the fictional science demonstration at Mr. Specter’s house.

  I’d just plunked myself on my bed and turned on my laptop when I heard my mother’s heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Inwardly I groaned. She never came up unless I was in trouble or she wanted to have a heart-to-heart talk. I hadn’t done anything wrong that I knew of—my grades were good, I’d completed my chores like a good son, and I’d cleaned up the mess in my bathroom, and thrown away the bloody clothes. No, I couldn’t be in any trouble. This had to be a talk. Not really what I needed right now.

  She came up the stairs so slowly it pained me to listen. Mom relied on the railing a lot, and I heard her grab the bar, pull, and step all the way to the top. When she opened the door it was no surprise, but I played along and looked up as if it was. “Hey, Mom,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “You ran off so quickly that I didn’t get a chance to talk to you,” she said. Oh no. I was right. We were having a talk.

  “What about?”

  “Can I sit down?” she asked, motioning to my desk chair.

  I could hardly say no, seeing as how she owned the place. “Sure.”

 

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