Balancer

by Patrick Wong

  Then the taller one leaned forward and caught her in a terrifying glare.

  “We know it was you, Nicole. The wildfire, Tim Geller, the Patriot Center. We don’t know how you’re doing it — or why — but we know.”

  Nicole felt an electric shock tear through her whole body. She clutched the couch as though she were on some kind of rollercoaster.

  They knew everything.

  She felt tears well up in her eyes as she floundered for words.

  “Now, my partner here thinks you did it out of the goodness of your heart, and I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt,” Carter said. “But I think it’s time that you come with us so we can hear your side of the story.”

  It was exactly as Ben had said. They would take her in and interrogate her. The room began to swim and Nicole felt panic overwhelm her. She could vaguely tell that Agent Bishop had leaned forward to address her, and she could see his eyes were sympathetic. She heard words like “help” and “medical tests” and “not alone” and then felt his hand on hers.

  But her survival instincts were taking over.

  She clutched her throat.

  “Sorry … I … think I’m gonna be sick!” she blurted out, and before the agents could stop her, she got up and ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

  Her heart pounded furiously as the shock of what had just happened hit her like a train.

  Medical tests? Interviews? What Ben had predicted was happening right now, and it seemed there was nothing she could do about it.

  She heard a knock on the door.

  “Nicole?” It was the older bearded guy, his voice muffled by the wood of the door.

  “Yes?”

  “I know you didn’t mean to harm anyone. Just come with us. Let us help you. We have the best of the best working with us. Like I said, we can work this thing through together.”

  She heard a low mumble then, as though the agents were having an argument.

  She fought with her fevered breath and tried to calm herself down.

  Think, Nicole. Think.

  Maybe Agent Bishop was right? Maybe they could help her? She could get herself examined and get some answers. If her mom knew about it and was by her side, then surely there was nothing to fear?

  Nicole flicked up the lid of the toilet and made a retching noise. She just needed a little more time to think this all through. It was all happening so fast.

  “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “All right.”

  She heard him go away from the door, and then she dialed her mom’s emergency number.

  It rang a few times.

  Pick up. Pick up. Please.

  Her mom answered, out of breath.

  “Hey, Nicole? You OK?

  Stunned, Nicole was barely able to give a reply.

  “Yeah, mom.”

  “Listen, I’m really busy with a patient right now, so unless this is something important, I need to cut it short.”

  Nicole felt her worst fears confirmed.

  Her mom knew nothing.

  The agents had lied.

  It was a trap.

  Don’t Fence Me In

  Nicole knew she had only precious minutes before the agents realized what she was up to. She had to be faster and quieter than she could possibly imagine.

  Casting around for ideas, she saw the small window in the corner of the bathroom, and was filled with relief that she had chosen to let the agents in her home. She had gotten out of this window before.

  With shaking fingers, she turned the faucet on full. The stream of water concealed the sound of her movements as she eased a potted plant from the window ledge and set it down gently on the tiled floor.

  She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans, painfully aware that any mistake now might cost her. Closing the toilet lid and praying it would hold her weight, she stepped up lightly so that she was standing level with the window.

  She lifted the window latch.

  Just then, another knock stopped her in her tracks.

  She froze on the spot, poised like a strange statue with a closed toilet bowl as its base.

  “I’m just finishing up.”

  She waited for a reply. Was that convincing enough?

  “All right. We’re getting a little concerned out here is all.”

  “Sorry. I made a mess in here. It’s kinda gross. Still trying to clean it all up.”

  It seemed like a full minute before Nicole heard the shuffling of feet.

  He had gone away.

  This was her only chance.

  Now.

  Flushing the toilet, which gurgled noisily into action, Nicole leaned over and pushed open the narrow window. Then, realizing there were only flimsy venetian blinds to hang on to above, she grabbed either side of the open frame to clamber onto the small ledge.

  This was it; she’d have to go out headfirst. She tried to calm her rising anxiety, thinking of it as water underneath.

  Three, two, one …

  Heaving herself up and pushing her shoulders through the gap, Nicole scraped her upper body through the window. She wriggled when the frame hit her hips. The last time she had gone through this window was when she was eight. Times had apparently changed. The plan to flip out of a window headfirst didn’t seem like such a good idea any longer.

  Great. Just great.

  Underneath, she spotted the ledge she remembered, and she reached out for it, using it to pull herself through. Any moment now would be the inevitable fall. But cuts and bruises would be better than putting herself at the mercy of those agents.

  Upside down, with her feet now the last part of her hanging on, Nicole held on firmly to the ledge below. Then she flipped her body over.

  She landed heavily, and pain ripped through her upper body. She had to suppress a desperate cry.

  She took a second to recover and reassess the situation.

  The small bathroom window led to the back of the house, and it was her best path to escape. As she picked herself up, she felt for her smartphone in her jeans pocket and experienced a stab of horror.

  She had left it back in the bathroom after calling her mom.

  She couldn’t go back for it now. She would have to run.

  Picking up her feet, Nicole darted across the backyard and pushed herself through the shrubbery, into Mrs. Truman’s garden. She issued a silent wish for the poisonous lady to be elsewhere right now. She had crouched in these particular bushes hundreds of times before, waiting to reclaim a ball or a Frisbee. Now she was doing it to save her skin. Checking that all was clear in front, she sprang out of the bushes and into the open daylight of the huge lawn.

  Up ahead was a taller fence. Mrs. Truman’s neighbors apparently preferred to keep their prying neighbor at bay. Nicole sped up, feeling the bouncy turf under her toes and making quick calculations about how to negotiate the fence. There was no time to run back and pace, so she would have to do her best to hurdle it.

  As the fence grew nearer, she readied herself.

  And leapt.

  She landed hard on the other side and fell to her knees. Amazingly, she still hadn’t been seen.

  Exhaling a quick sigh of relief, she surveyed the area up ahead. A covered pool dominated this neighbor’s yard, with a thin little path running around it. Nicole remained hidden, hesitating over which way to go. Too close to the house, and she might be spotted, but the other edge of the pool was narrow and precarious. She also knew she’d have precious few moments before the agents burst through the bathroom door back home, so whatever headway she could make now would count for everything.

  She chose the thin path farther away from the house. Even though it was risky, now was not the time for hesitation.

  Her neighbor was taking afternoon tea at the very moment Nicole practically flew through her yard. She looked up, and was startled to see a blur of a girl traverse the pool edge. By the time she called over her shoulder to alert her husband, the girl was gone.

 
Nicole was already safely in the next yard by the time she heard confused voices behind her.

  She crouched out of sight of the main windows of the house and surveyed her next challenge. She was glad it was still working hours, otherwise her escape would be almost impossible. This yard had a trampoline in the center, and there appeared to be no one around.

  Then she noticed the large dog appear from the side of the house.

  It barked as it caught Nicole’s scent, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. They stood there for a moment — furiously snarling dog and Nicole, with her arms raised, trying to calm it down.

  Her mind raced. There was no stick to throw it, nothing to distract it. She was certainly not in the business of killing an animal that was just doing its job guarding its owner’s home.

  She noticed the chain around its neck, which gave her hope. It was long and probably stretched to the edge of the yard. If she was fast, then perhaps she could beat it.

  So she ran.

  Seconds later, the dog sprang up after her, and Nicole felt dire urgency propel every muscle in her legs. Pure adrenaline pumped through her veins as she neared the next neighbor’s hedge up ahead.

  The dog’s bark was getting closer, and Nicole didn’t dare look back, just in case she would come face to face with the slavering hound.

  If she had looked back, she would have seen the dog’s teeth snapping at her heels and realized that she had jumped just at the exact moment its jaws were about to clamp around her ankle.

  She heard a whimper and a howl as the dog’s chain restrained it abruptly. Nicole soared over the privet hedge and onto the pavement on the other side.

  The road buzzed with traffic, but there was no sign of the SUVs. Although Nicole knew it was a clear run from here to Amy’s, the roads were too wide and she could easily be spotted. Her priority now was to get to Amy’s street and into the rows of backyards again.

  She headed across the busy road, fighting the ache in her muscles and in her wheezing chest. She felt her spirits lift as she entered the next series of yards.

  Although Ben had hinted at the scale of the government’s interest in her powers, it appeared the FBI had been tracking her for a while. The agents had said they didn’t know how she was doing it, which showed they had very little proof, but she also knew that Homeland Security possessed tremendous authority. If they suspected her, then she was in big trouble. Hell, they’d only have to inject her with some kind of truth serum and ask whether she’d killed Mr. Geller, and she’d be finished.

  Nicole’s head was full of fear, but she knew that all she needed to do was get to Amy’s and Amy would have a solution.

  She had traversed two yards without trouble when a larger fence came into view up ahead. Nicole knew she was close now.

  Taking a large run up, she caught hold of the top of the fence and bent her leg to steady herself. Another heave up, with her shoulders bearing her body weight, and she flipped herself easily over the top. She seemed to be getting good at this.

  “Nicole Aaronson!”

  Nicole looked around, her limbs trembling at the sound of her name being called.

  It was Mrs. Jessica.

  Nicole could have cried with relief.

  She was nearly there.

  Jumping down from the fence, she hugged the old lady, gave her a kiss on the cheek and then continued toward Amy’s side of the yard.

  “Amy!” Nicole screamed. “Amy?”

  Vaulting over the fence, she startled Amy’s little brother, Troy, who was riding his bicycle in the backyard and surely not expecting a frenzied girl to come leaping out of nowhere.

  “Where’s your sister?”

  Troy pointed to the house, and Nicole ran.

  She didn’t have to search very long before Amy came out to find her. She looked shocked at Nicole’s appearance.

  “What happened?”

  “The FBI knows about me. They were gonna take me in.”

  Breathlessly, Nicole told Amy all about the two agents and their questions, how they had told her they wanted to help but had lied about telling her mom.

  Information that the friends would have normally taken a day or so to mull over was dispensed in a matter of seconds, leaving Amy floundering.

  “If they catch you, God knows what they’ll do,” Amy said.

  “I know. That’s why I ran. It’s happening like Ben said it would.”

  Amy clutched Nicole’s hand and fixed her in a serious stare.

  “Nix, we are in way over our heads now. We need to call the police.”

  “No! Don’t you see? We can’t!” How could the police protect her from the FBI? She had broken the law. The terrible truth hit Nicole then, and she burst into tears. “I killed a man! I killed Mr. Geller. I mean, I know he wanted me to, but it was still me. I did it. And those people at the concert — I made them sick, all of them. I did it for you, but that won’t matter, because nobody’s going to believe the truth when I tell them.”

  Amy let all of this sink in. Her best friend was right, and she couldn’t for the life of her think of how to get out of this.

  “You have to go now. If those agents catch you, they’ll lock you up like some lab monkey,” Amy said.

  “I know. But there’s something we have to do first.”

  Bye

  The camera zooms out more than usual, taking in the smart and modern lines of the Madigan family dining room. African sculptures adorn the dresser, and a fruit bowl artfully displays shiny apples. The room suddenly blurs as the tablet that is filming the scene is lifted and placed hurriedly on a table.

  Nicole appears, looking worn-out and flustered — as if she has just run through several bushes backward.

  Amy sits down beside her and seems stressed. There are undertones of panic in her voice as she begins to speak.

  “OK, this is gonna be quick. The authorities are after Nicole. We don’t know why.”

  “We do know why.”

  “OK, yes, we know why, but we don’t have time to explain it. Have you got the message?”

  Nicole holds up a ripped sheet of lined paper with hastily scrawled writing all over it. She starts to read.

  “The thing is … I need whoever’s watching this to know that I didn’t do anything wrong.” She looks directly into the camera. Her eyes well up with tears. “Mom, Dad, I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I didn’t do anything I wasn’t asked to do. I would never deliberately hurt anyone. I mean, I did hurt some people, but not much. Cuz they might say I did, and … You just have to believe me.”

  Nicole begins to tear up more —“And if I don’t contact you, it’s not because I don’t want to …” She clears her throat. “It’s probably because they’re not letting me.” She looks down to try to compose herself without success. Unable to speak any longer, Nicole looks back at the camera and silently mouths one word.

  “Bye.”

  The screen goes black.

  Not as Cool as Batman

  Holy geez …

  Ben jumped back from his computer and started to rush out of his room. He’d grab his bicycle, find Nicole and Amy, and help them plan their next steps. He hadn’t been trailing conspiracy theory websites for nothing.

  Then another wild thought struck him, and he turned and ran back to his desk.

  He played the AmesAndNix.com video again.

  He watched them both for a second time, with pride and a protective feeling in his chest. He took in the anguished face of Nicole, who looked as though she’d just been running for her life. There were bits of twig in her hair, and her face glistened with sweat. She looked prettier than he’d ever seen her.

  Pull yourself together. Focus.

  He shook himself out of it and continued to watch her as she spoke and then broke off to weep. He felt so bad for her; he had probably been too hard on her today, and he’d never seen her this scared before. Nicole’s recent actions concerned him. They were drawing too much attention and were confirming his fears
of what people in power do with Balancers. He had been right to warn Nicole about the breadcrumb trail she had left. He was also glad Amy was there to help her gather enough strength to utter her heart-rending last message.

  Ben downloaded and saved this file, as he knew there was a chance the FBI would take it down after news about his friends started to spread.

  His friends.

  He couldn’t believe events had gone downhill so quickly — to the point that the girls were now sending out an SOS message. Only hours ago, the three of them had been sitting in the cafeteria talking cryptically about flu symptoms and the CDC. Now, all of a sudden, Nicole was on the run from the FBI.

  But how did they find out? Could the AmesandNix YouTube footage have linked them like he’d thought? Although the details of the situation were vague, some things were crystal clear: Today’s meeting in the cafeteria had established that the feds had no absolute evidence that Nicole was behind the Patriot Center epidemic. Perhaps they feared her?

  Maybe that was the best chance Nicole had right now — to prey on their fears.

  Ben wondered whether she realized that and opened an iChat window to let her know. It was uncharacteristically slow to load.

  Come on, come on …

  As Ben glanced up at his email inbox, he began to entertain a horrible, creeping suspicion about his own actions, too. His last three emails to Professor DuBois had gone unanswered, but he knew they had all been read. Had those emails been intercepted? Was he being watched? His queries about the flu symptoms could almost certainly link Nicole’s actions to the Jenna Kidd show, and if DuBois had been bugged, then those emails would be the perfect trail right back to Nicole’s door.

  That was it.

  How could he have been so stupid!

  Furious with himself, Ben slammed his hand against his desk, causing his penholder to rattle its contents. A shaft of stabbing pain shot up his arm.

  That was the moment a window opened in iChat. A blinking cursor waited for Ben’s words.

  He began to type. He knew he had to keep it as short as possible, but he was so worked up he could write a midterm essay of his fearful thoughts and theories right now.