I crossed over to the living room with its huge couches and armchairs. Mom and Dad sat with Abby. It was nice to see the scorch mark on her chin. At least she’d felt some effects of the fight. I sat across from them, waiting for the lecture. The worst part was that they were right. Fighting with our Gifts could have gotten someone seriously injured.
Dad cleared his throat. “I’m not used to being a parent, for obvious reasons. I’m more accustomed to combat teams than teenagers, but things have to change around here.” He paused as Mom nodded her support. “What you two did was stupid but understandable. Teams fight, but it’s why you’re fighting that is the problem. Frankly, go ahead and kick the shit out of each other about who ate the last bagel, but not over who’s responsible for Wendi’s death.”
Neither of us said anything, though if the furniture burst into flames from the heat seething between us, I wouldn’t have been surprised.
“Any time you two want to pull your heads out of your asses, I’m ready,” Dad said, clearly pissed off by the stalemate. “We aren’t leaving until you two clear the air.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
Abby’s head shot up. “Definitely your style. Stand by and watch while innocent people get killed. You could have ended Powell, but no, you went soft.”
“What?” My voice was a lot louder than I’d intended. I could feel the heat rising as my anger flared to life again. “So, you want me to be the Executioner? Is that it? I have more blood on my hands than I can ever wash off.” My fist slammed against my leg. “I didn’t know Powell had a pistol.”
Abby’s face twisted with rage. “It didn’t matter. You kill them before they murder the people you love. You’re just like the villagers, stand aside and let the Reclaimers do their job. Screw it. When we play, it’s to win. Not until you don’t feel like fighting anymore. How many more people I love have to die before you understand?”
I stood and moved, heading out of the room. She had no right, and I didn’t have to put up with her mouth. That first day I should have told Mr. Tyler to forget it. An arm pulled me around. “Just like you Ward, walk away from a fight.”
I slapped her arm away, hard. “I’m sorry about your parents, but I didn’t kill them. I know it’s my fault Wendi is dead.”
“Tommy, it’s not...” Mom started to rise before Dad pushed her gently back to her seat.
“I killed Ryder and Clint. I killed Reclaimers in the Megadrome. Everywhere I go, I leave dead bodies behind. If your parents hadn’t betrayed you-”
I didn’t get to finish as Abby’s fist slammed into my mouth. I fell flat on the floor, blood from my mouth joining with my bleeding nose from earlier.
“Don’t you talk about my parents!” Her eyes burned with rage, saliva dripping from her open mouth.
“Why not?” Marcel’s voice came from across the space as he entered the room. “You’re sure fast enough to blame everyone else for their screw-ups. Why didn’t you save your parents?” Abby whirled on him. To his credit, he didn’t flinch much.
“Easy for you hiding behind your laptop.”
“Yes, it is. Just like it’s easy to blame Tommy for Wendi when you were out cold on the Megadrome floor. Maybe if you’d fought better, she wouldn’t have needed to rescue Mom. Or maybe it would have been better if Mom died instead. You’re used to it, right?”
I’m not sure which of us Marcel shocked the most. My bet was on himself.
“I should kill you,” Abby said in a low growl of a voice. “I’m done with you both.”
I got to my feet. “Now who’s walking away? You accuse me of quitting, and then you give up.”
She stopped dead in her tracks. Her head bowed, tears hitting the floor in front of her. “I should have hit you harder.”
I snorted, spraying blood in the process. “If you had, I’d be missing a head.”
“Wouldn’t change much. It’s empty anyway.” Marcel grinned at me although his eyes didn’t reflect it. “Wendi’s death is on me. If I’d been able to hack the systems like we planned, you wouldn’t have had to fight.”
Abby shook her head. “No. It’s nobody’s fault except the Protectorate for keeping us chained.” She wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hands. “I didn’t fight when they killed my parents.”
I stepped over, placing my hand on her shoulder. “You were a kid.”
“I could have fought.” She faced me. “You didn’t kill Wendi. I know it. I’m so angry, and sitting here isn’t solving anything. We need to fight the Reclaimers and force them to free us.”
“No,” Dad said, taking control of the situation. “We don’t make any moves against the Protectorate or the Reclaimers. No running off to rescue Waxenby, either. We got away, and, for now, I mark that as a win.”
Abby sighed. “What a surprise.”
Dad held up his hands. “I see you aren’t happy with the safe plan. There are only four of us with Gifts, and Marcel can’t fight.”
Marcel crossed his arms, his face darkening. “I can’t punch people, but I can fight. I think I’ve found a way to drop the dampener at the Protectorate holding sites. The Gifted can break out and be free.”
Dad took his turn being shocked. “Marcel, there are hardened criminals in those facilities along with crime fighters and others who got swept up by the Reclaimers.”
“So, you’re the only one who gets to be free?” Marcel asked. I’d never heard such a belligerent tone come out of him before today. Marcel had changed since we left Redemption. “Wendi died freeing you. This way no one else has to die.”
“Marcel, you are…” Dad started, but Mom squeezed his upper arm, and he stopped.
Mom moved to stand in front of Marcel. “I agree, the Gifted have been unlawfully imprisoned, and we will address the issue.”
Marcel lit up like he had won the battle. But I knew he would be losing the war. Mom’s superpower was lawyering.
“But to let out people like the Grim Reaper, who use their powers to murder and rob, wouldn’t be right either. We have to plan on how to do this.”
And the war ended with a harrumph.
Leave it to Abby to launch a new offensive.
“We can’t just sit here and hide. The Reclaimers are killing more than the Gifted ever did,” Abby said. She leaned forward, body tensing like she would pummel Mom into submission.
“The Gifted destroyed half the world,” I mumbled.
Abby’s eyes bored into my skull. “Whose side are you on, Ward?”
I glanced at Mom for support and got nothing more than a slight grin. I’d jumped into this on my own. “Having a Gift doesn’t make you a saint, just like being a Norm doesn’t make you Brunner. I want to free everyone and end the Protectorate, but we need to be careful. I don’t want any more blood on my hands.”
“Ward, you are…”
“Enough,” Dad said sternly. “We aren’t headed down this path now. We are talking about a plan for today. I’ve asked Blaze to train with us. I don’t know if we will have to fight, but better safe than sorry.”
“Are we just leaving Waxenby to die then?” Abby asked pointedly. Her anger bubbled under a calm surface, for now.
Mom cleared her throat, stopping Dad’s angry retort. She answered. “No, we are going to keep searching for him. Everyone is upset and tired. Let’s get you three some food and let you heal up.”
Dad pulled the training room remote from his pocket, looking embarrassed. “Sorry, guys. I should have turned off the dampening field.”
A trickle of power returned as the field released my Gift. I’d used most of my charge fighting with Abby. I followed along to the kitchen. Marcel tossed me a bottle of Mountain Dew before taking his. Opening it slowly, I only lost a little from the shaken bottle.
Before Marcel could reach back into the fridge, Mom motioned to him. “Hands?”
“Oh, yeah.” He went over to wash in the sink.
Dad handed me a towel to clean up my face. “Are we all good?” He caught
my eye.
“We’re good.”
Marcel and Abby agreed as Mom put out sandwich makings for us. Everyone grabbed plates and filled them before sitting around the large dining table. The room grew quiet as we devoured the food.
“I have something to talk about,” Abby said around bites of food. “Can we enforce a daily shower rule for the boys?”
Marcel gasped. “I just showered.”
“Yeah, but it took you barfing before you did.” Abby tore another piece off her sandwich. “We’ve been here a week, and I don’t think you’ve showered once.”
I laughed.
Mom arched her eyebrows at me. “You haven’t been much better.”
“Oh. I’ve had other things on my mind.”
She nodded sagely. “I understand.”
Marcel rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I probably should shape up my goatee as well.”
That got everyone laughing.
Mom lit the candles on the cake as they sang a halfhearted version of Happy Birthday. This was the first birthday I’d ever spent with my dad. The double chocolate cake tasted amazing, but I ate it mechanically. Celebrating today felt wrong. At least Mom had agreed to no presents, but she refused to let my birthday pass without a cake.
Dad caught my eye. “Tommy, I’ll need you to go get Blaze. Use the doorbell and wait with Alyx, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure thing, Dad.” I shot him a silent thank you, glad for the excuse to be away from any more reminders of my old life.
Mom glanced at Marcel, noticing the stains on his shirt and the mass of hair shooting in every direction. “Maybe you’ve got time to clean up before Blaze gets here?”
He grimaced. “Affirmative, Mom.”
Dad stood, reaching his hand out to Abby. “How about a bit of sparring, partner?”
She grinned. After saving her in the Gauntlet, Abby borderline worshiped Dad. “Let’s go. I’ll take it easy on you.”
Dad laughed. “You will? How kind of you.”
“Well, you saw what I did to your double, right?” She asked, playing up the innocent act.
I left to get my backpack. We’d avoided a nuclear meltdown over freeing the Gifted. I wondered how long it would be before it went supernova.
3
My backpack sat at the end of my bed. The room was larger than the room I had at Dresden. A queen bed took up the middle of the room, flanked by matching black nightstands. Nothing in this room, besides my backpack, belonged to me. Since I’d fled Redemption, all my worldly belongings stayed in my pack.
The fight with Abby had taken a toll on my stored energy. Dad had given me a black box to shock my finger when I inserted it into the hole. Pulling it from the zippered pocket, I stared at it for a second before pushing my index finger in and receiving a jolt of energy. The skin burned every time I had to use it—another cost of using my Gift. I put the box back where it belonged.
I hoisted the bag over my shoulder, pulling the door closed behind me after leaving the room. Marcel headed toward me, carrying his ever-present tablet. His face lit up as I stopped in front of him.
“Bruh, you need to see this. I built a virus capable of breaking all the collars in Redemption. Once someone clicks on it, the collars will fail.”
I shook my head. “Marcel, Dad already said we aren’t breaking everyone free.” I hated playing bad cop with Marcel. He’d been my best friend since we landed in Redemption. “I’ve got to go get Blaze.”
Marcel’s face screwed up in a grimace. “More combat training. I’m still sore from the summer.” He groaned loudly. “After a summer of bruises and pulled muscles, all I could do was hit Turk with a chair.”
Leave it to Marcel to complain about training. “It won’t be too bad. No collar means more healing, less pain.” He must be upset; he didn’t rub it in that he’d had to knock out Turk to keep him from beating the snot out of me.
“Maybe for you, Bruh.” He glanced up and down the hall. “I think we should release the kids in Redemption.”
“You heard Dad. What do you think would happen if collars started falling off during school? The guards would kill them all. Are you willing to accept that responsibility?”
Marcel shook his great shaggy head. “The collars stay in place. With the dampener off, their powers would have a chance to form. We got lucky you freed us. Don’t those kids deserve a power-up, or is it just game over for them?”
I sighed. “Man, the first kid who used a power would get everyone killed. You know it. If one collar can fail, then the guards would assume they all failed. At best, the kids would be taken to the Block; the worst, genocide.”
Marcel glared at me. “Abby is right. Whose side are you on?”
I put my hand on his shoulder. For the first time in my life, I stood as tall as him. “Marcel, I want to free them, but we have to be smart. Some kid farts a toxic cloud on accident, and the guards will start shooting.”
His shoulders slumped. I could see the defeat and frustration in his eyes. “I just want to help. I’m useless here.”
“No freaking way,” I said with a laugh. “We’d be living under an overpass, eating out of the trash without you. Instead of unleashing the virus, could you track down where Waxenby is? He needs to be our highest priority.”
He gave me a sly look. “I thought your dad said no.”
I shrugged. “He said we couldn’t rescue him, not a word about searching for him.”
Marcel’s smile beamed. “Having a lawyer for our mom comes in handy. I’ll find him if I have to stuff a tracker up Grim Reaper’s ass.”
I laughed. “Make it so, Number One!”
Marcel walked away chuckling. I watched him go, thinking about how useless I’d felt trying to rescue Dad and how badly that experience sucked. Things should be different, but it didn’t change anything. I readjusted my backpack and headed to the doorbell.
Alyx had left the magical doorbell. According to him, it created a vortex connected between two points, regardless of distance. Unlike the portal that moved you directly from one place to another, the doorbell’s endpoints were fixed and didn’t require Alyx to be present. At first, Dad had refused since anybody could use it, but Alyx tinkered for a while, and now only the five of us could activate it.
I pushed the button and stepped back. The wall swelled out then appeared to be pulled in, revealing a blue-purple maelstrom. Lights flashed within it, strokes of magical energy coalescing and dispersing around the edges. It reminded me of a kaleidoscopic Pink Floyd video Mom had shown me as a kid.
The light-show raged before me as I pulled the second strap of my backpack on. When stepping through a portal, a faint shimmering of energy tingled across my skin. This vortex felt more like skydiving, and if you let go of your stuff, it might not get there; Alyx didn’t know where the missing things went. I honestly didn’t care and didn’t want to find out.
I drew a deep breath and stepped into the Technicolor swirl. My stomach dropped like I rode on the world’s tallest roller coaster. I concentrated on keeping my lunch and three slices of birthday cake down as I tumbled through the magic realm. Faces flickered into view, only to be swept away by the storm of lights. Faint sounds reached my ears as I plunged through the whirlpool.
Finally, a glowing, golden door appeared before me in the distance. I knew the trip took seconds to complete, but time held no meaning here. The door grew larger and more distinct as I closed on it. A door knocker affixed under a stained-glass window depicted the Death Star firing its weapon. Leave it to Alyx to design a geeky door.
“Thomas,” A strong female voice said just over my shoulder. I would have jumped if I could have, but that’s hard to accomplish while floating. Peering around, I didn’t see anyone. I felt a sharp tug on my arm, but then I passed through the door and into Alyx’s hideout.
I fell hard on the floor, reeling from a bout of vertigo. The room tilted at odd angles trying to throw me off the tiles, but I held on like a rodeo star. A minute or so lat
er, the nausea subsided, and I began to return to normal. The portals were the limos of magical transportation verses the Vespa that the doorbell was. Abby and Marcel had thrown up during their trips here, which made me the logical choice for these missions.
After the fight with the Reclaimers, we had stopped here. It belonged to Alyx’s parents, and we used it as a safe house from time to time. Fortunately for us, Jon didn’t know where it was. The room had been emptied down to the terra cotta tiles and paneled walls that bore the outlines of removed pictures. Mementos of Alyx’s old life had been shed like a snake’s skin.
The last of the nausea fled as I stood up. I heard steps upstairs, so I figured Blaze would be waiting for me. I’m not sure why he needed an escort, but here I was. Frankly, after the argument with Abby, I needed the break. I took the stairs up, opening the door into the living room. Alyx sat in a brown wing-backed chair and stared into the fireplace. There was an assortment of similar chairs arranged in a circle; a large, circular, mahogany coffee table anchored the chairs in orbit around it.
“Alyx?”
He didn’t respond. I glanced around, but I didn’t see Gladiator either. I stepped to his side. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. His eyes had a white cast to them. I had seen him raving mad at times as well as comatose, but this was something very different. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I gave him a gentle shake, but he kept mumbling. Blaze or Gladiator would know what to do. I took a seat in a blue and silver leather chair, which sat to my right, then put my backpack on the floor and leaned back to wait for help.
“Oh, hey Tommy,” Alyx said, jolting me awake. I hadn’t realized I’d drifted off. “Sorry, Warlock business. Blaze hasn’t gotten here yet?”
I wiped the sleep from my eyes with the back of my hands. “I don’t think so.”
Alyx grinned. “Conference call with the Warlock council. Not very exciting, but usually people don’t fall asleep during them.”
Unbreakable Storm Page 2