The Apocalypse of Elena Mendoza

by Shaun David Hutchinson

Freddie tensed. “Yeah. We’ve covered that.” Her face became stone.

  I was scared I’d lose my nerve, so I ended up babbling. “You told me you were afraid of being happy because you thought you’d lose your father completely if you were. I can’t bring him back to life, but I can make sure you don’t lose him whether you’re happy or not.”

  “Elena—”

  “Trust me, okay?”

  Freddie chewed on her thumbnail and looked into my eyes. I wondered what she saw. I’d spent countless hours staring at myself in the mirror hoping to see how I was special, but I’d never found anything other than a strange girl who shouldn’t have been born but had been anyway and who could perform miracles. Neither of which made me special. Those things simply made me different.

  Finally, Freddie nodded.

  “Lie back, then,” I said. “And turn on your dad’s music.”

  Baby Cthulhu had told me I was an insignificant moron when I’d asked if I could do this. Snippity Snap had scolded me for wasting my time. Even the girl on the tampon box had suggested using my powers for this purpose was prioritizing the feelings of one girl over the fate of the entire world. But none of them had told me I couldn’t do it.

  Since Lego Gandalf had let it slip that I could make someone disappear when Tori had asked me to bring back Ava, I’d wondered what else I was capable of. I knew from experience that I couldn’t become invisible or control volleyballs with my mind, and the voices had confirmed I couldn’t resurrect the dead, but when I healed someone, I saw into them. I saw the parts of them that were broken, and I believed it possible to see into other parts of them as well. In a way, what I planned to do wasn’t that different from healing. At least, that’s what I hoped.

  I didn’t recognize the song playing, but Freddie had chosen well. It was soothing and melodic. The notes drifted into the night and swirled around us.

  “I’m pretty sure this won’t hurt,” I said. “But keep your eyes on the sky.”

  “Hurt?” Freddie said, but I was already kneeling behind her. I put my hands on her head and closed my eyes.

  When I healed someone, I saw their pain, and each person’s took a different form in my mind. Freddie’s gunshot wound had looked like a black hole, Mrs. Haimovitch’s hip like teeth gnawing on her bones, Elias Morales’s painkiller addiction like hungry mouths. I found another hurt in Freddie when I touched her this time. A pulsating mass with tendrils jacked into her heart and brain and spine. Its body was protected by a thick carapace with sharp ridges, and its soft, invasive arms were sickly green. The thing looked like it was feeding off of Freddie, drawing strength and life from her, and I fought the urge to banish it because I wasn’t certain I could have and that wasn’t why I was there.

  Buried deep inside of Freddie I found a box, the flaps closed and taped tightly shut. This was what I’d come for. I might not have been capable of expelling the parasitic hurt that she was battling, but I could give her a weapon she could use to fight it herself. I cut the tape on the box, threw open the flaps, and let Freddie’s memories of her father burst free.

  Freddie gasped. I couldn’t see what she was seeing, but I imagined I could. I projected her memories of her father into the sky. Every song that played was connected to something she remembered about him. Not only the happy memories, but their arguments and their pain, too.

  That’s what love is. No one is perfect, no one is flawless, and loving someone means admitting they have faults. It means loving them, not in spite of those flaws, but because of them. And that’s how Freddie loved her father. She loved his strengths and his weaknesses equally and without reservation.

  The songs played on and on. Sometimes I heard Freddie laughing, and other times I think I heard her cry. I kept my eyes closed and held the box open and let the music play until I was too exhausted to do it anymore, but before I stopped, I taped the flaps open so that the box would never be closed to Freddie again.

  I opened my eyes and let go of Freddie’s head. She sat up and turned to face me.

  “What was that?”

  “I couldn’t bring back your father, but he never really left, either,” I said. “And anytime you need him, you can play his songs and look at the sky, and he’ll be there.”

  Freddie’s eyebrows dipped to form a V. “How?”

  “Call it a minor miracle,” I said. “Only you’ll be able to see your father, but you can see him whenever you want.”

  Freddie crashed into me and crushed me to her. “Thank you, Elena.”

  When she pulled away, I said, “What was he like?”

  “You didn’t see?”

  I shook my head. “They’re your memories.”

  Freddie scooted around so she was sitting cross-legged. “He had a wicked sense of humor,” she said. “Once, he had these life-sized cardboard cutouts of himself made and he hid them all around the house. In the pantry, in the car, in the closets. My mom screamed bloody murder when she found the one waiting for her in the shower. But he loved to make us laugh. He did this impression of Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy that had me rolling every time.”

  I stayed up all night listening to Freddie talk about her father, and we went home only when the sun began to light up the sky. Maybe the reason I hadn’t been able to bring him back to life is because the dead never truly die.

  FIFTY

  MAMA WAS SITTING on the couch when I got home, and she did not look pleased. On the drive back to Freddie’s house, I’d checked my phone and seen all the missed calls and text messages my mother had sent me, but I hadn’t been brave enough to read them.

  “Where the hell have you been?” She stood and got in my face. “No, I don’t care. Do you know how worried I was about you? I woke up and you weren’t here and the car was gone. I almost called the police!”

  “I told you I had to go meet a friend.”

  “Not for the whole night!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” she said. “Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it, Elena!”

  I was still giddy from spending time with Freddie, but exhaustion was clawing at the edges and all I wanted to do was sleep. “Will you let me explain?”

  Mama crossed her arms over her chest. “Well?” she said. “Go on. I’m waiting.”

  “Someone I care about was walking alone in the dark,” I said. “And I went to walk with her.”

  “That’s it?”

  “It was important.”

  “No more using the car,” Mama said. “I don’t care if you can heal everyone in the world, you’re still a child, and I will not let you run around all night with my car.”

  The anger drained from her face and she flopped down on the couch. “You can’t do things like this.”

  I sat beside her. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  I could barely keep my eyes open, and I knew Mama was still going to make me go to school as further punishment for sneaking out, so I didn’t even ask to stay home.

  “I worry about you,” she said. “A boy tried to kill you.”

  “He shot Freddie, not me.”

  “You think that matters?” Mama said. “He could have killed you. This thing you can do scares me. What if someone else tries to hurt you? I can’t watch you all the time, so I have to know that you’re being smart.”

  “I am.”

  “Staying out all night without letting me know you’re alive proves otherwise.”

  I couldn’t argue.

  “Do you think the world is ending, Mama?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “I’m not,” I said. “Just listen to me.” I explained about the voices and the choice they’d given me. I kept expecting my mother to tell me it was all in my head like she had the one time I’d told her about the voices when I was little, but she didn’t.

  “Freddie thinks David Combs shot her because she laughed at him when he asked her out in eighth grade. Javi thinks it was because he was bullied and that Combs had a list of students he wanted to
kill. I’m worried the voices told him to shoot Freddie so that I’d heal people and cause the raptures. And if that’s the case, then I don’t know if I can trust them that humanity is really in danger.”

  Mama brushed a curl off my forehead. I was smart enough to know she was still pissed at me, but she seemed to be taking what I’d told her seriously. “I don’t know, mija. The world always feels like it’s in danger of ending. Maybe it is. It could end tomorrow or a million years from now. It’s impossible to guess, but I wouldn’t run away because of something that might happen.”

  “You wouldn’t?”

  She shook her head. “If the world ends, I want to be on the front line, fighting for our corner of it until the bitter end.”

  “That’s morbid.”

  “We don’t give up on the things we care about because they get tough.”

  “I’m not sure everyone else would agree with you.”

  “That’s their choice to make.”

  “What about David Combs?” I asked. “If I understood why he shot Freddie, at least I might know whether the voices are lying or not.”

  Mama looked toward Sofie and Conor’s room when she heard one of them stirring. It was time for them to get ready for school. “Have you asked his parents?”

  “What?”

  “Parents always know, Elena,” she said. “I’ve always known you were special, destined for something great, but I didn’t want to admit it, because it scared the hell out of me. Other than David himself, his parents might be the only ones who can tell you what you want to know.”

  Mama made a good point, but I wasn’t sure Mr. and Mrs. Combs would be happy to see me.

  “Think about it,” Mama said. “But if you go, you’re not taking my car. I was serious about that.”

  I shouldn’t have, but I laughed. “I won’t,” I said.

  “And no more staying out all night.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I promise.”

  Mama frowned. “I don’t suppose I could get you to promise to stop healing people and trying to save the world.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Well, it was worth a try.”

  FIFTY-ONE

  I DIDN’T HAVE any reason to think something was wrong when I was called out of Mr. Murakami’s class and asked to go to the administration office. I should have, though. My life had been too quiet. Deputy Akers had kept her promise to watch the apartment, and I hadn’t seen Carmen Ballard since I’d healed Ben Smith on the football field. So I should have expected I hadn’t been summoned to administration to discuss my attendance record.

  Mrs. Clarke at the front desk directed me to Principal Gonzalez’s office. I’d never been in the principal’s office before, and I was surprised to find it so warmly decorated with awards and photographs and artifacts gifted to him by past graduated classes. The only thing that seemed out of place were the man and woman sitting at a side table in the corner.

  Principal Gonzalez was a broad, beefy man with a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache, dimples, and a bright smile. Principals sometimes get a bad rap, but I’d always thought Gonzalez looked like the kind of man who truly enjoyed helping students.

  “Elena,” he said, scooting his desk chair back and standing. “I’m sorry to pull you out of class, but these agents have some questions for you regarding Ava Sutter’s disappearance.” Principal Gonzalez glanced at the agents warily, and I got the impression he wasn’t happy they were there.

  “I don’t know anything about that,” I said. “I hardly even spoke to Ava outside of class.”

  The woman, who wore black pants, a white shirt, and a black jacket, motioned at a chair at the table. “Have a seat, Ms. Mendoza. You’re not in any trouble.”

  I glanced at Principal Gonzalez, hoping he could see the fear in my eyes. “Where are these so-called agents from?” I asked. “Did you check their badges? Shouldn’t my mother be here?”

  “Their identification is valid,” Principal Gonzalez said.

  The man, who wore a light gray suit with a gray shirt and a plaid gray tie, smiled in my direction, though he looked like a predator baring his teeth. “I’m Agent Kraus and my partner is Agent Dunn. We’re with Homeland Security. We’d just like to talk with you, if that’s all right?”

  “And if it’s not?” I asked.

  Agent Dunn said, “Then we can pick you and your mother up at your apartment—110 Lago Vacia, apartment 305—this evening, take you our office in Miami, and speak there.” I heard the implicit threat in her statement. Talk now or they’d cart me and Mama off to some facility we might never leave.

  “Again,” Kraus said, “you’re not in trouble. This is nothing more than an informal chat.”

  I didn’t see that I had much choice. I should have been prepared for this—Deputy Akers had warned me—but I wasn’t. Reluctantly, I took the empty seat at the table and folded my arms across my chest.

  “Thank you, Mr. Gonzalez,” Agent Kraus said, though he kept his eyes on me.

  Principal Gonzalez sat down and folded his hands on his desk. “I believe I’ll stay.”

  Dunn and Kraus glanced at each other, but they didn’t tell Principal Gonzalez to leave, for which I was immensely grateful. I doubted the agents would try to do anything more than ask questions with him in the room.

  “So,” I said, “are you going to tell me what this is about? I’m missing calculus.”

  Agent Kraus brushed his straight black hair off his forehead as he reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out his phone, opened it, and read his notes. “Two individuals have gone missing in Arcadia recently. Ava Sutter and David Combs, is that correct?”

  “You tell me,” I said.

  I didn’t like Agent Kraus. Truth be told, I didn’t like either of them, but there was something about Kraus that made me think he’d have no problem yanking a pillowcase over my head and throwing me in his trunk if I didn’t give him the answers he wanted.

  Agent Dunn cleared her throat. “You were involved in an alleged shooting at a Starbucks where you were employed. The shooter, according to the statement you gave to Deputy Akers, was a young man named David Combs. You claimed, as did a witness named Fadil Himsi, that after David Combs shot Winifred Petrine, you healed her and David Combs vanished in a beam of light from the sky.”

  “If it’s in the police statement, then that’s what happened.”

  “Would you care to elaborate?” asked Kraus.

  “What’s to elaborate on?”

  Principal Gonzalez leaned forward at his desk. “Agents, I’m not sure what you’re looking for here, but I think it might be best for me to call Elena’s mother.”

  Kraus and Dunn ignored him. “We also spoke to a young woman by the name of Justina Smith who claims that you healed her brother, Benjamin Smith, of cystic fibrosis,” Kraus said. “Is that true?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “And that occurred on the same day Ava Sutter disappeared?” Kraus asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “When did she disappear?”

  Kraus looked like he was sucking on a lemon. “We spoke to a friend of yours, Tori Thrash, who claims that you were responsible for the disappearance of Ava Sutter.”

  I barely held back a laugh. “Tori is most definitely not my friend.” Freddie had been right; I should have taken Tori’s threat more seriously.

  Agent Dunn had a short blond bob that gave her face the appearance of severe angles, and when she smiled, it looked strained. “Are you aware that since September thirteenth there have been nearly ten thousand reports of unexplained disappearances, often connected with mysterious lights from the sky, worldwide? And that many of those cases reportedly occurred on a day when someone claimed you’d performed a miracle.”

  Principal Gonzalez stood, shoving his chair back into the wall. “That’s enough. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say,” I said, stuttering. Sweat rolled down my temples and down my b
ack. I imagined I stank of fear. That the agents could smell it and knew they had me.

  “You realize it’s a crime to impede a federal investigation, don’t you, Elena?” Agent Dunn asked.

  “I asked you to leave,” Principal Gonzalez said. When the agents ignored him, he picked up the phone on his desk. “I’m calling the police.”

  Agent Kraus held my gaze for a second before looking at Principal Gonzalez. “There’s no need for that,” he said. “We’ll be on our way.”

  Both agents stood and headed for the door. Dunn stopped, turned to me, and said, “You may not realize it, Elena, but we’ve kept the disappearances as quiet as we could because we’re trying to help you.

  “Don’t you mean ‘use me’?”

  “We don’t use people,” Kraus said. “We help them. We keep them safe. By whatever means necessary.”

  “We’ll talk again,” Dunn said.

  Principal Gonzalez waited until the agents were gone before setting his phone down and sitting. “I don’t know what you’ve gotten involved in,” he said. “I’ve heard rumors and I watch the news, but miracles? Disappearances? What is going on?”

  “Maybe nothing,” I said. “Maybe the end of the world. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

  FIFTY-TWO

  I LAID LOW for a couple of days after the visit from Agents Dunn and Kraus, and I decided not to tell Fadil, Freddie, or my mother about it. Doing so would have only worried them unnecessarily. A few times I thought I spotted a suspicious car in the parking lot outside my apartment or tailing me and Fadil on our way to school, but it might have been my imagination.

  The one good thing about hiding in my apartment was that it gave me time to decide Mama was right and I needed to speak to David Combs’s parents. If anyone could tell me why David had shot Freddie it would be them. I considered asking Fadil if he’d take me, but he’d made it clear where he stood on the subject. I didn’t blame him—he had faith that it was all part of a greater plan, so the whys of it all didn’t matter to him. I figured Freddie might be as invested in the answers as I was, but we’d had this perfect moment on the football field and I was scared to ruin it. The girl I’d come to know over the past month was replacing the image I’d had in my head, but it was still confusing, and I wanted to make certain I had feelings for the real Freddie and not my fantasy of her. Unfortunately, the DHS agents had convinced me I was running out of options and out of time, so I sucked it up and asked her. Thankfully, she’d agreed without argument.