Flying Free

by Kellie McAllen

  “What’s the number mean?” Phoenix asked.

  “It’s a bank account in this name.” Dad held up the card with his picture that said John Thompson. “I deposited $10,000 in there years ago. That plus the interest should give us a good start somewhere… unless…” His brow furrowed and he let his words die off.

  “Unless what, Dad?”

  He glanced at me, still frowning, and forced a smile instead. “We deal with that if we have to, Son. No sense worrying about it yet.”

  His words had the exact opposite effect on me, and I instantly started obsessing about a problem I couldn’t even name.

  Dad handed one of the IDs to my mother then pocketed the rest of the contents of the box, and we tromped back through the woods to the car. The trip back seemed a little shorter, probably because of the rush of adrenaline coursing through my body. Fake IDs, secret bank accounts, and wads of emergency cash made it all seem more real somehow. We really were going to run away and start a new life somewhere.

  Dad told me the name of the bank we needed, and I programmed it into the GPS since his memory of the location was a little hazy.

  “Did we live in Evansville when I was a kid? I don’t remember that.” Phoenix asked.

  Mom shook her head. “Your father and I did for a short while, but we wanted to get farther away from home, so we headed up to Indianapolis.”

  “Where was home?” It suddenly dawned on me that I had no idea. I always assumed they were from Indiana, but the fake ID said West Virginia.

  “Bowling Green, Kentucky.” I caught the slightest hint of an accent when my mother said that, and I chuckled.

  Phoenix’s mouth dropped open. “What? Is that where we were born?”

  Mom grinned at him. “No, we were in Indianapolis by the time we had you two. You were born Hoosiers.”

  “Good. Indiana is bad enough, but Kentucky? No thank you.” Phoenix huffed, and I chuckled.

  We pulled into the bank a few minutes later, and the four of us got out. I don’t know why, except, I guess my brother and I were scared to let them out of our sight, for fear we’d lose them again.

  Phoenix and I hovered off to the side while our parents approached the teller. At first, they smiled and made idle chitchat, but their faces hardened when the teller shook her head with a frown and started talking.

  I couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but my father’s voice grew louder, more adamant. The teller just kept shaking her head, though, giving him a look of pity. Eventually, she called over another woman, presumably a manager, but after a quick explanation, she gave the same terse refusal.

  By the time my parents turned around and walked back towards us, my heart was going as fast as the tellers’ fingers, frantically tapping out figures on their keypads.

  “What’s wrong?” I immediately asked, but my father just nodded towards the door, pushing us forward.

  Once we were back in the car, he put his head in his hands and closed his eyes, and I realized it was the first time I’d seen him look broken.

  “What’s wrong, Dad?” I whispered.

  He stayed like that for just a moment then lifted his head and sucked in a fortifying breath before looking at me. “It’s okay, Son. They’re just giving me a little hassle since the account has been inactive for so long. They’ve turned the assets over to the state, and we’ll have to go through some hoops to retrieve them. It might take a while.”

  “Can they do that? Why didn’t you just use mind control to get them to fork it over?” Phoenix asked.

  Dad nodded. “I had a feeling they might, and it’s a little more complicated than just persuading the teller. Besides, we don’t use our powers, remember? But don’t worry. We have some cash, and I have more in another spot. It’s just a little farther away from here.”

  11

  Jaxson’s expression when he returned instantly turned my stomach into a bubbling stew, and panic seared my face. I could tell he wanted to stop and talk to me, but Mr. Winslow called for me as soon as he and Jaxson got close to the library. Mr. Winslow gave Jaxson a look that made him keep walking instead.

  I followed a few steps behind Mr. Winslow and was shocked when he led me into Anders office. Is this where he was interviewing people? The access panel in the floor, highlighted by the rug that was still pulled back, made the otherwise-cozy office feel menacing, and I could only imagine how it felt to the ex-prisoners. He must’ve been using it as a scare tactic.

  I sat down in a folding chair in front of the large, wooden desk, and Mr. Winslow stood behind it. The other council members occupied the navy tweed upholstered chairs that had been moved off to the side.

  I stuck my hands between my knees to keep myself from chewing on my fingernails. Phoenix always told me it made me look nervous. I didn’t have any reason to be scared; I hadn’t done anything wrong. So, why did I feel like a suspect?

  Well, technically, I had participated in breaking into Anders’ office and stealing his computer files, but I hadn’t done any of the dirty work myself, I’d only been a lookout. The thought made me wonder, did the council even know that we’d done that? All Jaxson had said yesterday was that we’d broken into the office to do some snooping and found the access panel. The council might not know we had his computer files. I was going to assume that Jaxson didn’t reveal that in his interview and keep my mouth shut as well.

  “State your name for the record, miss,” Mr. Winslow barked, putting his hands on Anders’ desk and hovering over it.

  “Lexus Wren,” I whispered.

  “Speak up, girl. This isn’t church. Now, tell us how you’re involved in all this.” He plopped down in Anders’ desk chair and scowled at me.

  I stared at him, dumbstruck, unsure what to say. I expected him to ask me questions. The room suddenly felt warm, claustrophobic, and my sweater started to itch the skin around my neck. I finally decided just to start as close to the end as I could and hope that satisfied them.

  “I was talking to Mr. Grant, and he got an alert on his phone and ran to his office. I saw him go down into the basement through that access panel, so I followed him.” I pointed at the small, hinged door in the floorboards.

  Mr. Winslow wrinkled his brow. “And why did you do that?”

  My heart started thudding. He was already questioning my motives! I took a deep breath, choking on the scent of Anders’ cologne that still lingered. “Uh, I heard yelling.”

  “So you went through a hole in the floor to a dark basement because you heard yelling. Does that make any sense to you?” He glanced at the other council members with a raised eyebrow.

  “I heard my friends down there, Phoenix and Griffin, and I was worried about them,” I spat out an explanation that sounded reasonable. Sort of.

  “Brave little kitten, huh?”

  My cheeks reddened at his appraisal, more derogative than complimentary.

  “And what happened once you got down there?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip and rocked back and forth in my seat, nervous about how they would react to my story. Presumably, Jaxson and the others had already told it to them, so it shouldn’t surprise them. Still, I was hesitant to reveal what we had done.

  “Well, Anders — Mr. Grant, had a gun, and he was threatening Mr. Easton. I told Jaxson to get the gun from him, and he did, but then Anders commanded Jaxson to put the gun to his own head. Anders had had someone use mind control on Jaxson to make him obey him. But Griffin and I can do mind control, too, so we released Jaxson from Anders’ command, and Jaxson shot at Anders.”

  “So, you and Griffin commanded Jaxson to shoot Mr. Grant?” Mr. Winslow glowered at me.

  My mouth fell open. “No! We just told him he didn’t have to obey Anders. He was just so angry he lost control. But the bullet didn’t hit Anders, it hit my mother.” I ducked my head, tears dripping uncontrollably at the memory of her bloodied body.

  “And who is your mother?” Mr. Winslow pressed, ignoring my tears.

  �
��Renee Morgan,” I whimpered.

  “We’ll come back to that, but for now, continue with the story.” He rolled his hand in a forward circle.

  “I didn’t want my mother to die, and I had been experimenting with time control, so I ran to Griffin and Phoenix and used them both to reverse time, sending us back to when Jaxson first got the gun. I yelled at Jaxson not to shoot, and he remembered what would happen if he did, so he didn’t. Anders pulled my mother in front of himself then took off deeper into the basement. We chased after him, but he got in an SUV and drove away.”

  “And what did you do then?”

  I gulped and dipped my head. This part was pretty incriminating, too. “We got the keys to Anders’ Camaro and tried to find him.”

  Mr. Winslow and the council didn’t seem perturbed by my admission of grand theft auto. “Where did you go to look for him?” was all he asked.

  “There was a house where Anders had taken Jaxson to see his parents, and he thought maybe Anders would go there, but it was empty. We didn’t know where else to look, so we came back.”

  Mr. Winslow exchanged glances with the other council members who nodded back at him. I let out a little sigh; apparently my version of events corroborated with the others.

  “All right, Miss Wren, your story lines up, but I still have a few questions.” He grabbed a pen and tapped it a couple times on his notepad, and my heart stuttered in rhythm.

  “You said Renee Morgan was your mother. The others claim she was locked up with them for over a decade, so what exactly is your relationship with Ms. Morgan?”

  “I’ve never met her. At least, not that I remember. I just learned about her recently from my father. I thought someone else was my mother.” My voice cracked with emotion.

  Mr. Winslow shuffled papers till he found the one he wanted and adjusted his glasses. “Your father is?”

  “William Wren.”

  He nodded and read from his paper. “William Wren, Catalyst, incarcerated for voluntary manslaughter, released on parole two years ago. Married to Jade Wren.”

  “My stepmother. She raised me.”

  “And she’s a Conduit?”

  I shook my head. “No, she’s a Normal.”

  He peered at me over the top of his glasses. “So, who did you work with to develop your powers?”

  “Griffin and Phoenix.”

  “And when did you meet them?”

  “August.” My stomach clenched and my body started to quiver. I knew my answer would raise a lot more questions.

  “Who did you work with before that?”

  “No one.”

  Mr. Winslow put down his papers and glared at me. “You mean to tell me, you discovered your powers less than three months ago, and you are able to control minds and reverse time already?”

  I nodded, keeping my head down. “Yes, sir.”

  The other council members started muttering amongst themselves, and beads of sweat popped out on my forehead. Why was it so hot in here? I wished I had a camisole on so I could take off my sweater.

  “Miss Wren, I have to say, this level of power is unheard of for someone so unpracticed. To what do you attribute your talent?”

  “I don’t know, Mr. Winslow. It just comes easy to me,” I mumbled, desperately wishing I could go back in time and steer the question in a different direction. Some of the council members were Conduits; I could probably use their power. But the problem with time reversal was, everyone involved could still remember what had happened.

  “Okay, Miss Wren. Let’s talk some more about this time reversal trick you pulled. That is a very advanced skill. I’ve only ever heard of a few people who were capable of that. And you said that you used both boys together to do this? How long have you and the Easton boys been working on that?”

  “I tried it on Saturday with each of the boys, but we couldn’t do it. Then Anders gave me the idea of using both of them at the same time. I’d never thought of that before.”

  “It’s very unusual for three Specials to cooperate like that. Almost unheard of. You’re close to these two boys?”

  My face flamed at his question. Did he have any idea we were a threesome? I just gave a slight nod, trying to pass it off as unimportant.

  “So, if you’re so close, it seems strange that they would leave without telling you. Or did you know that they were leaving?”

  My eyes widened, and my heart stuttered. Of course, that was what he was getting at! How was I supposed to answer that? Should I try to lie and pretend I knew nothing? I wasn’t very good at it. And it wouldn’t take much asking around for them to discover just how close I was to Griffin and Phoenix.

  “They told me they were leaving, but they didn’t say where they were going.” I tried to maintain eye contact while I spoke so he would know I wasn’t lying, but his piercing eyes cut through me, and I dropped my head as soon as the words were out.

  He puckered his brow and scowled at me. “And why didn’t you inform someone of this? You were aware that the prisoners were told to stay here until they could give a statement to the council, were you not?”

  I stared at my knees as I formulated an answer I hoped wouldn’t anger him further and would convince him not to go after the Eastons. “They begged me not to, and I thought they deserved to have their freedom after being prisoners for so long. They don’t want any part of the Specials world. They just want privacy. They won’t cause any trouble.”

  “Do you think you have the right to make decisions like that, Miss Wren? Are you a council member?” His face grew red and he leaned over the desk as close to me as he could get.

  I doubted that anything I could say at that point would help matters, so I just shook my head and kept my eyes on my lap.

  He slapped his hand on the desk. “What do you know about the Eastons, Miss Wren? How can we find them?”

  “Nothing, sir. The boys didn’t know anything about their family. They were just little kids when their parents disappeared. I have no idea where they went.”

  I decided to turn the tables on him, ask him a few questions.

  “What about Mr. Grant and my mother? Is the council going to look for them?”

  Mr. Winslow raised an eyebrow at me. “Of course we are. Mr. Grant has committed a dozen crimes, and Ms. Morgan is considered a hostage. We will do everything in our power to locate them and mete out justice for everyone involved.”

  I was pleasantly surprised at his answer and happy to have the attention off me, so I decided to ask another question. “Where do you think they are, Mr. Winslow? Do you have any idea?”

  An expression flashed across his face for just a moment then disappeared, but it was long enough for me to realize he knew more than he pretended. What was he hiding, and why? I suddenly wished I knew a whole lot more about the council and Mr. Winslow in particular. Would Anders have information about him in his computer files? I was eager to find out.

  “Why don’t you leave the investigating up to the council, young lady. It would behoove you to know your place.”

  I grimaced at his comment. “She’s my mother, sir,” I said, and couldn’t believe I’d had the guts to talk back like that. He scowled at me, and I was starting to think it was the only expression he knew how to make.

  He grunted, his jowls vibrating. “Let’s get back to you, Miss Wren. You mentioned that you used mind control to relieve Mr. Grant of his weapon. Is this a new skill for you, as well?”

  Should I tell the truth, or lie? I really didn’t know which response would be better. I decided to stick with honesty. “No, not really.”

  “You’ve done that with Griffin before, and others?”

  “And Jaxson,” I admitted.

  “That too is quite an impressive skill, Lexus. I wouldn’t expect that from someone like you. Young and inexperienced, I mean. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? Your parents must be very powerful, as well.”

  “I don’t know,” I said confidently, “I don’t really know them that
well.”

  “Me neither. But I’d certainly like to change that.”

  12

  We were on our way to freakin’ Nashville. I mean, like, seriously — what halfway decent singer/songwriter/guitar player like me hasn’t dreamed about moving to the country music capitol of the world to try to make a name for himself? My fingers twitched just thinking about playing on stage in one of the local joints and getting discovered by a rep from some awesome record label.

  Of course, that would kind of defeat the purpose of why we were going there, which was to lay low and start a new life where nobody knew anything about us. With a couple million residents, half of those college students, immigrants, and musical hopefuls like me, Nashville was a great place to get lost. But I’d prefer to get discovered.

  Griffin was being a pansy ass about it, of course, complaining about going so far away from Lexus, and I felt a little guilty about that, too, but it didn’t really matter where we went. If we were trying to disappear we couldn’t exactly go visit her, no matter how close we were, and besides, we could still call her or text her or even FaceTime her whenever we wanted, as long as those council goons didn’t take her phone from her. Damn Jaxson for bringing that up. Now Griffin was gonna be super cautious about us contacting her.

  Dad said he had another stash of money buried somewhere in Nashville, and that should be enough for us to rent a place and buy what we needed. Griff and I had already offered to get jobs to help contribute. We might as well, we weren’t going to school. We couldn’t enroll in our real names, and it might take a little time for them to get fake IDs for us.

  I was feeling a little emotional, daydreaming about getting a job at a place where I could take the stage once in a while and sing some of the songs I wrote with Lexus, when I got a text from her.

  Just had my interview with the council. Kind of scary. They asked about you but I told them I didn’t know where you went.