by Tonya Kuper
Santos and I both stared at Josie. She let her posture relax and looked confused. “I’m okay,” she said. “I was still Pushing a shield. I’d just pulled it closer to my body.”
Of course. Of course she was able to shift her shield with seemingly little effort on the first day of trying, making her a prodigy. I shouldn’t have expected anything less.
“Let’s see if you can Push a shield against something a little more threatening,” I said. Santos lifted his chin toward me, signaling he got the order.
“More threatening than a sharpened metal blade targeting my head?” she squeaked.
“Uh-huh,” I confirmed, nodding. “I don’t want to be a dick, but we’re under some time constraints.” She perched her hand on her hip, tilted her head, and gave me her best “you’ve got to be kidding” look.
Santos tossed a hand grenade up in the air, giving Josie enough time to figure out exactly what it was. She could handle this; she’d just proven it. I Pushed my own shield around her, making sure she was safe. I needed her to practice within a highly dangerous situation so she could have experience when, or if, something like this happened in the future. My shield covered my own body so I could watch her without the threat of having shrapnel as a permanent accessory. Pieces of the grenade and bits of cinderblock flew away from the point of impact, sliding across an invisible umbrella protecting Josie.
Santos’s arm swung out, launching another grenade directly at Josie. She’d be fine between her shield, mine, and both of our abilities to Retract, but anxiety clamped onto my stomach and constricted my airway.
The weapon slid down Josie’s shield and dropped to the floor in front of her. Her gasp echoed through the warehouse. She was good. I held my breath, ready to help like I would be with every other Oculi I’d trained, but this was different. She had to train faster and harder than anyone before her.
The grenade detonated. Pieces of cement, metal, and plastic stopped short of hitting her body. The air was full of debris, yet she remained dirt free, her protection still in place.
I knew this wasn’t easy for her, being a new Oculi. It never was. But this was months, hell, even years of training condensed into a week. Part of me wondered how much those inoculations her parents took affected her Anomaly abilities. Knowing the Harpers had been involved with SI, knowing the testing that had taken place there prior to them breaking free—exactly how unique was this girl? Quick on the heels of that thought, my mind turned to the serum. What powers did it contain? How much stronger, faster, more powerful would it make an Oculi? There was a draw to that kind of power. Like a drug.
Josie slowly unclenched her fists. She considered the mutilated wall and debris around her, and then locked eyes with me.
“That’s enough for today,” I said. “Santos, meet ya at school?”
“Yeah, gonna catch a few winks. I’ll be there later.” Santos Pushed a kid’s scooter and footed himself toward his room. He yelled to Josie, “Don’t take me throwing weapons at you personally. You rocked it.” His head swung to me. “Later, boss.”
“Time for class. Your regular schedule awaits.”
Josie
I
was struggling. And shield training…sucked.
I tried to embrace my inner Hannah, to find that silver lining, that spark of positivity in every situation, but, man, it was tough. Don’t get me wrong, I’d just deflected bombs—and how badass was that? Plus, the whole ability to focus on most anything and make it appear? It was like magic, only it was science, and no matter how I rationalized it, it was pretty. Flippin’. Awesome.
Years of being a comic book and sci-fi junkie, only to discover I had some superhuman powers of my own—amazeballs! But those hatchets had been real. The threat to myself, my family, to innocent people…real. And imminent. Suddenly, the perks of being an Oculi weren’t so awesome anymore. I rubbed at a spot on my left thigh where two tennis balls had pelted me—yeah, it was gonna bruise—and I tried to smooth away the pain.
“This…” I ran a hand over my face. “This is…” I couldn’t verbalize the intensity.
“I know. It’s insane.”
“It’s…I don’t know if I can do this.” My last word came out as a whisper.
“You can.” No hesitation.
“The shield I Pushed—” I began slowly.
“The Viking or Marvel comic one?”
“The…field. Following the theorem of Oculi existence, if I can Push that shield, then a Retractor should be able to—”
He shook his head. “It has to do with the wavelengths of energy, the range of the spectrum. A Retractor wouldn’t be able to lock into that. It’s too variable for someone to Retract.”
That alleviated at least one fear. I considered the logistics of measuring EMF fluctuations and the types of machinery required. In the time it would take an enemy to lock in on my shield, I could disarm him or escape. Well, theoretically, at least.
Which brought me to my next question: “How long do Oculi abilities last?” In other words, how long would I be capable of defending myself before I was forced to go off the grid and live in a subterranean panic room? Just how many pints of chocolate peanut butter fudge could I Push on a whim?
“Again,” Reid said, “it’s variable. Depends on usage, on the inherent amount of one’s natural stores of energy. Most Oculi begin to experience the degenerative effects in their early thirties. Operatives are lucky to keep their skills past twenty-five.”
“Why do you train people if it reduces your abilities?”
He shrugged. “Somebody has to.”
He crossed his arms, and his lips thinned. Okay, so that wasn’t a happy conversation. I hadn’t truly accepted that I had these Oculi abilities, so losing them wasn’t my concern right now. I was concerned for Reid. But his expression told me he didn’t want my sympathy. “What will happen after the award ceremony?”
“After the handoff, we’ll need to take you somewhere safe. If there is a leak, I don’t see how we can take you back to the Hub. I’m working on the rest.”
He didn’t have a definitive answer because we still didn’t know who could be trusted. I got that. But I didn’t like non-answers. I thought we needed to find my dad, but I’d keep that to myself for the time being.
He pressed his lips together in a sort of sad smile, like he felt bad. Something in his expression was comforting, vaguely familiar.
“This will sound ludicrous,” I said. “But I feel like I’ve known you forever.” I couldn’t believe the words came out, but now that I’d started my bizarre thought, I’d better explain it. “I know people say that all the time and I never thought I’d think or feel something so cliché. I…I don’t usually have gut feelings. I’m even a little disappointed in myself for thinking it. But…”
Reid flashed me that sexy, lopsided grin I hated loving. “That’s because you have.” I leaned closer, examining his face for signs of delirium. He said, “You’ve known me for a long time.”
“I don’t call a day a long time.”
“I don’t, either,” he said. “I’ve know you much longer than a day.”
Lovely. My trainer-slash-bodyguard had lost his mind. “You do know basic math, right?” That got me a chuckle.
“Yes. And according to my calculations, I met you for the first time when you were less than a year old.”
I felt my face twist in disbelief. “Have you been eating paint chips?”
“Are you ready?” Reid asked with a strange excitement in his voice.
“Ready for wh—?”
His complexion darkened. His hair changed to a lighter shade of brown, and his light eyes turned more of a green-blue than a sky blue, but the shape didn’t change. His nose narrowed, but his mouth stayed exactly the same.
My stomach spasmed. “Impossible,” I whispered. Nick’s best friend, Callum Ross. Cal, who I’d known since birth and had a crush on since I was eleven, sat across from me. His family and mine had been friends forever. I hadn�
��t seen him since before Nick died. I thought back to the photos Mom had shown me of the people who had started the Resistance with them. I opened my mouth again, but nothing came out. My head wasn’t just spinning, it was turned upside down and running backward.
“It’s me.” His fingers squeezed around my fist. “Once everything went down with Nick, I had to go into protection—meaning I had to change my name and looks. I’m on the Consortium’s Wanted List. Wentworth is a distant family name.”
I had so many questions that I didn’t know where to start. As I stared at Cal, like a puzzle, pieces clicked together, forming pictures from my past. The Ross family lived in Denver. They often visited us as we moved around the country and were the closest thing we had to family. They’d visit six or seven times a year. We never visited them. Now it was obvious why. They lived in the Hub.
Then, when Nick turned seventeen, he went to a private school in Denver, which, I could now see, was really the Hub. My parents had told me they were comfortable with Nick going to the school because the Ross family lived close by, and Cal would be attending the same place. Again, the Hub.
Cal’s mom had died a year or so before Nick. I went to her funeral. I went to Reid’s mom’s funeral. My mind was blown. My parents had said he was away at some university in Europe.
I’m not sure how long I sat there thinking, staring. It felt like I revisited every second I had known Cal as Reid. Or Reid as Cal.
With my next blink, he appeared as the Reid I knew.
He leaned forward, and my heart leapt into my throat. His soft lips pressed against my forehead, spreading heat over my face, bringing his neck incredibly close, along with his clean smell. He slowly pulled his mouth away from my forehead.
“I’m sorry I left after Nick died. I wanted to stay, to support you and your family. But I had to leave, to lure away the Consortium. They found Nick, so they could find you. Someone had to allow for you and your family to escape.”
“What? You were bait?” He’d been protecting me—from both near and far—for a long time. He’d already saved my life, but that was nothing compared to him giving up his life to save my family and me. I couldn’t believe someone could be that selfless. I stared into his eyes, now recognizing that familiarity I’d seen there before. I had no words.
So many emotions swirled inside me, I didn’t know what to do with them all. He was someone I knew, someone I’d trusted, someone I’d wanted to be mine. He was here, in front of me, and real. I didn’t know how to express to him the overpowering feelings I’d experienced in the last twenty-four hours, but I could try. “This was the best thing anyone could’ve told me after last night. I…I’m so happy.”
My body acted without my consent. My arms flung around his neck, and he pulled me against his chest. I’d lost him once already, and I was terrified to lose him again…
Reid
I
inhaled Josie’s gardenia perfume, flowery and fresh. Telling her who I really was let me breathe easier. I was about to tell her more, to explain my other duties as her trainer, but it would have to wait. That news would deflate the moment. I wanted to revel in the feeling of her in my arms, the sensation of a dream realized.
She’d practically jumped at me, and I thought I was going to dissolve under her excitement. This, her touch, I’d craved it for years. But I wasn’t sure it meant the same to me as it did to her. The lines were blurred.
Warmth simmered in my chest as I loosened my grip, my palms sliding across her back. I didn’t want to pull away from her, but there was so much I needed to say.
Her gaze bounced around my face, inquisitive. She shook her head in disbelief, then her face broke into a wide grin. Her tiny giggle infused the stale warehouse with luminous energy. “That’s how you knew about my favorite ice cream.”
I laughed with her, relieved she wasn’t furious. “Yeah, I remembered from a couple years ago that you were an ice-cream junkie.” I’d been around the Harper family enough to know that Josie had an ice-cream addiction, deplorable taste in movies, and an incredible amount of love for her family. I’d been devastated for her when Nick died. Unlike me, the Harpers weren’t submerged in the Resistance life. Being homeschooled and moving so often, Nick and Josie hadn’t just been siblings; they were best friends.
Yeah, I’d had a full-fledged soft spot for Nick’s little sister. As we got older, though, it became more than that. Of course, no one knew.
I sucked in air in an attempt to calm an unexpected nervousness. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but I couldn’t. It would’ve complicated things. I don’t want you to think I meant to deceive or trick you. I changed my appearance for everyone’s safety—most importantly yours.”
“After the funeral, we moved to this house, and Eli and I started public school. It wasn’t easy for either of us. They told me you were traveling, but I checked Facebook, and I did some searching online.”
I shook my head. “Any information like that would’ve been restricted. You were probably logging onto dummy sites. There’s no electronic trace of me left.”
She opened her mouth to say something more, but nothing came out. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes dropped to her hands, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I…” She lifted her head, and a ray of morning sun through the windows lit up her face, her lip gloss sparkling. It took everything in me not to taste those sparkles. “I missed you,” she whispered.
15.
Josie
R
eid studied my face and finally said, “I missed you, too.” Then he abruptly leapt from the couch, like he’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and jogged across the warehouse. Okaaay. I replayed the discovery, trying to process the news that Reid was really Cal. The garage door to the warehouse opened.
Reid straddled his bike, looking like some cologne ad. He tipped his head forward and watched me through dark lashes, flashing a flirty half smile, and my stomach somersaulted. “What?”
“Your shirt.”
I looked down. I was wearing one of my favorite tees. Set Phasers To Stun was screen-printed across my chest.
Reid laughed. “Well, you certainly stun. You’re the only person I know who can make nerdy look so sexy.” My cheeks burned and my stomach decided to step up the somersaults to double handsprings. His face seemed to deepen a shade, too.
“We’re taking training outside today.” He examined the blue sky. “Follow me in your car.”
“What about school?”
“You never cut class?”
I shook my head. “I had to fight and argue with my parents just to go to high school. I never miss a day.”
Reid grinned. “Well, technically, your mom called you out. We chatted a few minutes ago.” He flashed a postcard-size piece of green paper. “Doctor’s note.”
He started his bike. I climbed into my Civic and pulled out behind him.
I followed, but not too closely, with the radio blaring and the windows rolled down. The wind blew my hair around like a red storm. I stuck my hand out the window, playing with the air velocity flow, trying not to let my mind wander to all the things that were screwed up about this situation and my world. The wind pushed at my palm, and I angled my hand so the air passed over it smoothly, then twisted my wrist so I could feel the resistance. My life wasn’t much different than the extension of my hand. I could “go with the flow,” as it was, or resist. The choice was mine to make.
Not that I really had a choice.
W
e headed west and slowed as the paved roads trailed off to sandy dirt. I’d been under such a microscope since moving to this house that I hadn’t really explored the countryside in South Florida since getting my license.
Eventually we ended up in a cypress grove with the bright sunshine blocked out by the dense tree coverage. Beautifully skeletal trees, draped with Spanish moss, rose out of the shallow marsh as if tiptoeing on their gnarled roots. These were way different than the red oaks from my last home, but no less
lovely.
I turned down the volume on the radio, and the eerie silence, apart from an orchestra of insects, sent tingles over my scalp. Reid rode his bike off to the side and idled until I pulled even with him. I took in the beautiful layers of greens and grays surrounding us, waiting for him to speak.
He leaned on the edge of my open window. “You need to drive forward for your test.”
Drive forward where? The dirt road cleaved a path through the cypresses for as far as I could see.
“I’d roll up the windows,” he said, “so you don’t get carried away by a mosquito.” His eyes held my gaze as he stepped back from my car, and I closed the windows. I didn’t like not knowing what my training was, especially after being pelted with various objects to practice using my shield. And that whole abyss scenario—scared me senseless.
I pressed the gas pedal with great caution, scared of what was to come and wanting to be prepared for anything. My white knuckles punctuated the dark steering wheel like my own silent exclamation points.
Looking in my rearview mirror, I no longer saw Reid. Perfect. My gut twisted.
I jolted forward as the car fell, my stomach dipping like I was landing in an airplane, and the moment almost seemed to slow. My head snapped back, my view out the windshield momentarily obstructed. In a flash, the road in front of me was gone. Water rose along the windows and poured in through the air conditioning vents. Cold water covered my feet. Glancing down, I saw dark liquid rising through the floorboards, gushing in from every crack.
Pulling my gaze forward, I realized the windshield was already fully submerged. The bright green algae appeared almost neon in the murky water. The gnarled roots of the trees looked as if they were the tentacles of a large beast.
I could Retract the water. I could Push a raft, a yacht, a freaking mountain of concrete out of the swamp—but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. Fear had a grip on my heart, tethering me to my seat, disabling me.
Nick’s car had gone off the road into a river and he’d drowned. I could still picture his distorted face in my mind, images from the autopsy I was never meant to see. It was the image that I’d seen every time I closed my eyes in those first weeks after he died. Those memories, etched into my brain, weighed me down.
