by Tonya Kuper
“The serum works by targeting cells and inserting specific genes,” Mrs. Harper began.
“It’s viral, Reid,” Josie cut in. “You said that nothing living can be Pushed or Retracted. Viruses aren’t technically alive, as they can only replicate inside a living cell.”
“Alive enough, it seems,” I said.
Mrs. Harper reached across the lab table and claimed the vial. “I can only produce it in very limited quantities. Hence, the serum needs to be administered to the person who can benefit the Resistance best.” She leaned against the table and absently rubbed her bad leg. “The VP is our best shot at surviving as a species, and we have to give this to him. If the Consortium continues their hunt and execution…”
Yeah, it had been a witch hunt for several years, and, if the stories were to be believed, the Consortium had been locating and killing Anomalies and Resistance members for a couple of decades before that. I understood the urgency, the need to take a stronger offense.
Then I glanced at Josie. She was an innocent. A friggin’ pawn in this deadly game. God, it made me sick to think what they’d do to her, knowing who she was—what she’d be carrying. She didn’t deserve to be manipulated like this, thrust into the limelight and used as some glorified drug mule.
“No,” I said. “Josie doesn’t need to do this. I can change my appearance—”
“It isn’t that easy,” her mom snapped. “Do you have any idea how tight the security is going to be around the vice president? It’ll take more than an external adjustment of your appearance, Reid.”
Josie spoke up for the first time. “She’s right. I already had to be fingerprinted and photographed at school. We’re receiving special admission badges and have to go through a certain screening prior to the award ceremony. I thought it was just heightened security for terrorist purposes…”
The Consortium was another breed of fanatic. I raked a hand through my hair. “What do we have in terms of reinforcements?” I suspected a breech in the Hub, and if I was right, then Josie would be a sitting duck at that event, with enemies coming at her from all sides. Damn it all to hell, if the breach went far enough, then the VP had a giant target on his back, too.
“We’re only calling in a few of the best, you being one of them.”
Okay, at least that would somewhat lessen the chances of us inviting the enemy into our backyard. But it still didn’t mean that we were safe or that this safe house was any more secure. “If there’s a leak in the Hub—”
Mrs. Harper cut me off. “These Resistance members aren’t associated with the Hub. I’m more than capable of rallying support without it coming through the central processing net. Think about it, Reid. The Hub may have instructed you to locate my daughter, but it was my encrypted call that brought you here.”
True. The Hub had narrowed Josie’s whereabouts to a five-hundred-mile radius, but it was the anonymous call that brought me to Oceanside. My mind raced with the possibilities surrounding this proposed serum handoff.
“You’ll need to train Josie here and continue with her usual daily routine like nothing is out of the ordinary until we complete this delivery.”
My mind calculated the logistics. Hiding in plain sight. The probability of drawing more attention with an immediate evac. Training Josie before we completed the drop.
“Let’s move, then,” I said. Mrs. Harper tipped her head to me in affirmation, and I started to turn, but a cement barricade that hadn’t been there a moment before blocked my way. Another tall concrete wall cut off Josie’s mom.
Mrs. Harper froze, staring at Josie, who rubbed her temples.
“Sorry,” Josie said. “I wanted both of you to stop. Don’t make decisions for me when I’m standing right here. Please.”
Shit. That hadn’t been my intention. I knew the Harpers ran a tight ship and things were tough in their house. I didn’t want to add to it. “I’m sorry.”
Mrs. Harper’s lips puckered like she was trying not to smile. She nodded. “Josie,” she said. And when she looked at her daughter, there was pride and tears and something I couldn’t describe shining in her eyes. “Reid can train you well and protect you. You won’t get hurt. I wouldn’t put you in this position if I thought it would get you killed.” She paused. “Or you can leave if you want. Reid can take you far away from here.”
She was giving her daughter a choice.
With the way she’d been on a roll, I hadn’t expected that. I waited, barely breathing, searching Josie’s face for some indication of what she might decide. Long seconds passed as Josie stared at her mom, then her gaze slowly shifted to the vial of serum. Finally, she turned to me.
I wanted to grab her and run. To hell with the war, the Resistance. I wanted to take Josie away and keep her safe.
She lifted her chin and held herself a bit taller. “I’ll make the drop.”
She strutted past me, paused, and the concrete barricade disappeared. She’d just Retracted for the first time. And that poker face while she did it? Hot.
Shit. I wasn’t supposed to let her affect me that way…or any way.
I couldn’t wait. I’d have to show her who I really was earlier than I’d planned. I just hoped she didn’t hate me for it.
9.
Josie
T
he drive in my old Honda Civic to Reid’s place was short, which I appreciated because all I could think about was how my parents had lied to me for years and how my dad was probably dead.
No, my dad wasn’t dead. I refused to believe that. I would know it, would sense it somehow. Yes, that completely defied all reason and rational thought, but I clung to this belief with every bit of my will.
Reid had insisted that my father was alive. Before we left my house, he’d made a point of telling my mom and me that the Council had received no news to suggest that my father’s position in SI had been compromised. All correspondence and communication had been purposely terminated by the Hub, several months ago, to prevent against such a breach.
My mom had collapsed onto the sofa upon hearing that, smiling like I hadn’t seen her smile in years. It wasn’t definitive. We didn’t know for sure that Dad was okay, but it was something.
And I latched onto that one morsel of good news like Thor’s hammer, Mjolnir.
The rest of our discussion, well, I was still processing that. My own mother had hid a safe house and escape route under our home and was willing to sacrifice me to smuggle a vial to the vice president. I mean, I understood how important the serum was, but she was asking me, a new Anomaly with no experience—her seventeen-year-old daughter—to complete a task fit for a Special Forces veteran.
Was I that disposable? Had she hardened that much since Nick died?
A wealth of memories surfaced—my mom spending hours teaching me math and science, the way she’d been so proud when I placed in my first swim meet. The way she’d fought back tears on my first day of high school at Oceanside. How she’d held me every night until I’d fall asleep in those first weeks after Nick died.
I knew she cared about me. And Eli. We might have our differences and differences of opinion, but I didn’t doubt that she loved me.
And if making this “handoff” would help the cause, if it would help my dad or somehow keep my mom or brother safe—how could I possibly say no?
I couldn’t. Not really.
So I’d hopped in my car, my personal version of an X-wing, like when Anakin first embarked on his new life to train as a Jedi, and followed Reid.
Reid pulled up to an old warehouse. An oversize garage door took up most of the front wall, a large, windowless door to the left. Windows circled the top of the building, near the roof. No one could see in or out. A chill shimmied down my spine, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
The asphalt was unmarked. No lines for parking stalls, no indication that anyone lived or worked here, besides Reid. He shoved up the industrial-size garage door.
Reid motioned for me to follow him in as he climbed bac
k on his idling bike, and I followed, driving inside and parking to the right of the door.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust as I moved from the afternoon sun into the old warehouse. Light filtered in through windows around the top of the newly renovated space. I would’ve never guessed from the outside that it was so clean and updated inside. Completely unassuming.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked.
I glanced at Reid. The question was so absurd, I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled from my throat and broke free.
“Stupid question.” He smirked. “So, back in your mom’s ‘hidden lair…’” The way he said that—accompanied by actual finger quotes, using a Dr. Evil voice—it loosened the vise that had clamped around my heart. We both laughed for a second, and then his expression turned serious again. “Look, what you did…what you’re choosing to do…it’s…cool.”
Now it was my turn to smirk. Yeah, I got it. He was proud of me. Funny how his reaction, how that one small bit of praise, could make me feel more confident.
“Thanks.”
“So are we good? You wanna talk about anything?” he asked, his blue eyes assessing me. He’d shifted back into “trainer mode.”
I ran through the checklist of discoveries that my mom had so unceremoniously delivered, as if she’d been reading her post-grad dissertation.
You and your brothers were “experiments.” Oh, and your dad? He’s likely dead. Well, we think he’s safe, but there’s no way to know for sure.
Tucked beneath our home is a Batcave.
Don’t mind all those guns and grenades—save ’em for a rainy day.
Under attack? No worries. Hunker down here for a third of a year, or take your chances in the drainage system.
And while you’re hiding from the evil Oculi Consortium, make sure to make a handoff of a super-serum to one of the most powerful people in the world.
I was tempted to recite my crazy list to Reid, but, really, there was no need. He’d been lucky enough to have a backstage pass, admit one, to the Harper family saga. I wouldn’t whine about it.
“I’m good,” I said.
He nodded in that way that told me my answer pleased him.
“Let me show you around.” He crossed the vast length of the warehouse toward what I assumed was the living quarters. My eyes gravitated to a kitchen, something straight out of Top Chef, that ran along the back wall, accompanied by a table and chairs. A hallway was tucked to the right of the kitchen. I guessed bedrooms. Coolest. Living room. Ever. Industrial and simple. Yeesh, the flat-screen TV was almost as big as me. Basic glass tables. Huge black leather sectional. Total bach pad.
The closest corner hosted a workout area. Machines, weights, a punching bag, sparring cage, everything a gym had and more. The Rock would’ve been jealous.
But the majority of the space was empty. Wide open, tall ceilings, clean. Why did they need a building so large?
Before Reid could say anything else, Santos rumbled through the open garage door, parked his bike next to Reid’s, and jogged toward us. “Like the kitchen?”
“Love it,” I said. Santos gave Reid a wide grin. That’s when I realized they’d probably done everything themselves—they’d Pushed and Retracted the interior. Realizing this prompted me to look more closely at everything. The details of their living arrangements were astounding.
“If you haven’t guessed,” Reid said as he moved toward the kitchen, “Santos is the cook and designed the kitchen.” I caught up with him, meeting them both at the table.
“Well, it’s amazing,” I told Santos.
“Thanks! I think so, too.”
Reid rolled his eyes at Santos and pointed to the living area. “Over there is where we relax, obviously. Help yourself to the kitchen or the bathroom.”
Reid crossed his feet, shoved his hands in his pockets, and nodded to the other doors. “Our bedrooms.” My cheeks warmed at his words, which was silly. He looked past me. “That’s the workout and training area.”
I rotated, taking in the massive space. “Did it take you long to do this? To make it the way you wanted?”
Santos held out a box of crackers, and I shook my head. “Not long at all. It gets easier the more you practice. Besides, when you’re an Anomaly like you and Reid are, it’s even easier. You’ll find that out soon enough when your Retraction comes.”
“She already Retracted, bro.” Reid shoved off of the doorframe so he loomed over me. Anyone could tell he was in good shape, but it wasn’t until he stood directly before me that his size registered. His shoulders looked like they could hold one of those giant concrete walls I was becoming so fond of Pushing.
“You want to take it easy today?” he asked.
Why? I knew I wasn’t exactly graceful under pressure, but all things considered, I thought I was holding up okay. No, I didn’t want him to go easy on me. It wasn’t like we had a lot of time. The National Physics Honors Awards ceremony was six days away. “Do you need a break?” I said instead.
He didn’t grin, but I could tell he wanted to.
“All right, then,” he said. “Let’s get started.”
I followed his gaze to a giant whiteboard easel.
“You really like dry erase boards, don’t you? And you think I’m a nerd.” He didn’t laugh at my joke, but Santos did.
Reid pulled his hand out from behind his back, and there was a marker in it. “I’m trying to make this as painless as possible. I thought a drawing game would be more fun than verbal commands, but, by all means, if you’d rather—”
“No. Pictionary is good.”
Reid pointed over my shoulder to Santos. “Santos will keep time. Speed matters.”
“Speed?”
Santos wielded a stopwatch. “Yeah. You need to be able to think and observe quickly, faster at times, depending on the situation. The faster the better.”
“So you draw, and I Push what I see?” Seemed easy enough.
“Correct.”
I held up my index finger. “Before we start…if our abilities are limited, won’t this physically deteriorate me or move me closer to the edge of Crazyville?”
“In the grand scheme of things, what you’re Pushing this week isn’t much. It’s not going to dip into your supply of energy much. Besides, you need to train, to know how this all works and how to handle it safely for yourself and others.” Reid turned to the easel, his marker raised. “Ready?”
“Go!” Santos yelled.
He scribbled. I Pushed a piece of broccoli on the table. Santos yelled, “Time.”
Reid turned to view my first Push. “What the hell is that?”
“What’s it look like? It’s a broccoli floret.”
“I drew a cupcake.”
“Then why is it all bumpy on top?”
“Okay, you two,” Santos warned like a parent. “Try another one. Go!”
The muscles in Reid’s arm twitched as he drew hastily. Cup. Bowl. Fork.
We went through some items that were much easier for me to identify from his sketches.
Tennis racket.
Chair.
“Me thinks you’re taking it easy on her,” Santos said.
Reid grunted. “Something to stretch the mind, then…” He drew a car.
So I Pushed a car.
“Time!” Santos shouted.
Reid spun around. “I don’t see it.”
Santos chuckled behind me. “Yo. Over here.” He pointed to the coffee table.
I’d Pushed a Hot Wheels.
Reid shook his head. Santos laughed.
I glanced between them. The makings of a headache pulsed behind my eyes. I knew nausea was a side effect. As a precaution, I inched closer to the bathroom. Better safe than sorry.
“Okay, Josie.” I really liked the way Reid said my name. The little smile that wanted to come out? I flattened it.
“Yes.” I kept my voice even.
“That little model car—not quite what I had in mind.” His body blocked the eas
el as he hastily sketched something. “Let’s see how you handle this.” He stepped aside from the whiteboard. A giant swing set, complete with slide, monkey bars, and fort? Seriously? A freaking playground?
Santos started counting off the seconds.
“Don’t think of the size or complexity,” Reid said. “Size doesn’t matter.”
Santos laughed so loudly it echoed through the warehouse. I tried to concentrate, I really did. But the chuckle rolled out of me into a full-bellied laugh. Man, did it feel good.
Reid’s lips twitched, but he didn’t have some insecure freak-out. He rolled right over the immature joke. “The size of the object doesn’t affect your perception of it. Don’t limit your mind. Accept that the observation is just the observation.”
Right. Okay. Santos’s laughter died down.
“Picture it and Push, Josie.”
I concentrated on the whiteboard, envisioning the swing set and slide in my mind. Then I allowed my vision to go hazy as I focused past Reid and his easel, toward an empty spot in the center of the warehouse. A shooting pain arced from my eyes to the back of my skull.
Chills.
Nausea.
A full-size playground.
“Time!” Santos whooped. “Hell yeah! You rocked that!”
I couldn’t really believe it. I walked over and touched the plastic slide. I jumped onto the monkey bars and swung from one rung to the next. They held my weight. The swing set was solid. Real. I’d even Pushed a pile of sand to cushion the ground beneath it.
“Good execution,” Reid said. He stood with his arms crossed, eyeing the construction. “Take a break for a moment.” A bottle of water appeared in his hand. He twisted the cap to break the seal and handed it to me.
I wasn’t really thirsty, but the water helped to ease that queasy feeling in my stomach.
Santos climbed the structure and took a spin down the slide. “I don’t know,” he said as he landed, kicking up sand. “Seems like you aren’t challenging her enough, boss.”
“Maybe,” Reid agreed. “What do you say, Josie?”
