“I will show you how you can signal your arrival, so you don’t have to use the river passage next time.” Boulder chuckled. “I bet it was an amazing fight with the armordile. I’ve always wanted to try myself against one.”
Abby grunted. “Armordile? Is that what you call that nightmare?”
Boulder shrugged. “The name fits, we have no idea what it actually is. It has armor plating, gator jaws, and burrows underground, waiting for prey. You live here long enough, you see all sorts of strange things.”
I’d be adding it to my list of things to never do. The giant rats and armordile were bad enough. I’d hate to see what else the freak show had to offer.
We followed Boulder to the exit door and stepped through into an old storm runoff tunnel. He showed us the location of the hidden panel then gave us a friend code, and a hostage code in case of emergencies. “Don’t mix them up, the hostage code will collapse the tunnel on you.”
Abby snorted. “Important safety tip, Egon. Isn’t that a bit extreme?” I really needed to get Abby away from Marcel more often.
Boulder turned to face Abby. “No. Everything we have and everyone we love is beyond this door. If you are forced to open the door, we expect you to die rather than betray us. Understood?”
She swallowed hard and nodded.
“Good.” Boulder snapped the plate back over the keypad and stomped down the tunnel, dim light outlining the end. We followed him as he went. Night would be here soon, and with it, the darkness to cover our return to Castle. Boulder stepped over to me, reached into his pocket, and handed me a small wrapped package. I opened it to find a pair of goggles. “I thought you might need those since your helmet is a bit worse for wear.”
“Thanks.” I pulled off my helmet, attaching it to my belt hook, and seated the optics in place, noticing the hazy green of the night vision. “My helmet broke during the explosion.”
Boulder shrugged. “Least I could do for the guys who beat the Gauntlet.” He watched the darkening sky for a moment. “Let’s go. It will be full dark before we near the wall.”
It took over an hour to get to the car. Boulder pointed out where we could enter and hide our vehicle on any future trips. He ran a hand scanner over the car and grunted his approval. “It’s clean. Safe trip.” He shook each of our hands and then slipped away into the night.
“Shotgun,” Abby said quietly. I shot her a dirty look and climbed into the backseat. Settling in, I stored my useless helmet on the floor next to me and watched behind us to make sure nobody followed us. Dad used the night vision to get us closer to a main road then handed his helmet back to me. We slipped into the stream of cars, just another group of Norms headed to wherever they wanted. Even though we didn’t live in the confines of Redemption any more, we were still caged. Castle made a much nicer cage than say, Atlanta’s Underground community, but we weren’t free. Even Tracy Stevens, Wendi’s mom, who couldn’t be detected by the Protectorate, lived in an invisible cage of fear.
I laid down on the backseat, remembering all the trips to Granite Falls with Mom. She’d have a CD playing, singing along, off-key, and I’d drift off. The memories could have been someone else’s given how distant they seemed. I wondered if Molly had found the formula or just returned home. I know I couldn’t wait to see Mom, and I’d only been gone a couple of days.
A small laugh escaped me as I thought of Warden giving me crap about using Sparky as a code name. It’s not like I’d thought of it before then, and I certainly wasn’t using “Executioner” as Saturday Night Showdown had dubbed me. I didn’t think Abby or Marcel had names picked out, though Marcel would be Mr. Wizard since we used it when we were away from base. My Gift didn’t lend itself to an easy name like Firework Farley or Super Samurai—even Dad’s Cyclone Ranger referenced part of his Gift.
I could absorb energy, but names based on that would suck. I inwardly laughed at the pun; I’d have to remember to tell Marcel later. I’d sound more like a paper towel than a Gifted. No, Absorption was out. I could amplify energy, but Magnify or Intensify didn’t lend itself to a cool name. Plus, I didn’t want to advertise my Gift. It helped to have everyone thinking I threw lightning like Dad. If my enemies didn’t know I needed to absorb energy before I could unleash it, so much the better. Dead end on that train of thought.
Running through names of other heroes didn’t help either. Golden Avenger or Titan reflected their physical appearance. Energy might be better, something non-descriptive. MegaWatt came to mind. It sounded cool, like a metal band, or…a light bulb. Something else. Bolt could work. Or Taser, since they referenced throwing energy. Maybe. Then it hit me: Surge. Short and to the point, and it sounded cool, kind of like Salvo. You didn’t know what to expect, but it would be intense. Surge. The more I thought it through, the more I liked it.
We got back past midnight, Dad being extra careful we weren’t followed. Since the mission went sideways, we were all a bit tense. Finally, assured no one had seen us, we drove into Castle’s parking area. A tunnel connected it to the main complex and, like Atlanta’s, could be collapsed in case of an emergency. I’m not sure why a group of Gifted fighters needed a backup plan, but it made me feel better knowing it was there.
As we entered the living area, Mom flew across the room to envelop me into a bear hug. I hugged her back, careful not to hurt her. Having put on so much muscle over the past few months made me a lot stronger than I had been when collared. She held me at arm’s length, examining me for injuries. After years of bullying in Redemption, I knew the drill.
She tsked as she looked me over like a chef eying her ingredients. “I swear you’ve grown again, but you don’t appear to be injured.”
I smiled at her in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. “Mom, I’m fine.” Dad and Abby ran down what they’d told her since the Cartel had captured me. “The doctor drew some blood. He uses it to make drugs, but after, I left and joined back up with Dad and Abby.” I answered Marcel before he even asked, since his afro had bobbed significantly when his head snapped up from the laptop. “I destroyed the samples before I left.”
Mom scowled, trying to figure out if I held back any information. “You’re sure you’re telling me everything?”
Inwardly, I kicked myself for wanting to tell my mommy everything: the fight with the Protectorate, Warden’s storm, the Reclaimers, Jon and Turk killing those soldiers, but I knew I’d never be let out again. I plastered a bigger smile on my face and plunged in. “I’m sure. The Underground is huge and really cool. They agreed to help find Mr. Waxenby.”
I don’t think she believed me, but she let it go. Did every kid have to go through lying to their parents to preserve their freedom? I didn’t know about anyone else, but I did, and it sucked. “I’m glad you’re back, sweetheart. Go take a shower, you smell like dog and stale sweat, then get some sleep. You all look tired.”
I kissed her on the cheek and headed toward my room. Abby caught up quickly, bumping me with her elbow. “Race you?”
“No way,” I said, stifling a yawn. “I’m out of juice.”
She laughed. We took the stairs down and into our rooms. I showered and fell into bed. My first mission had been a disaster, but it had worked out.
We started back on the regular training schedule while we waited for Marcel or the Underground to find Waxenby. It had been a week since we’d been to Atlanta, and we were no closer to locating him. The longer it dragged out, the more concerned I got. Waxenby could be dead, and we’d not know it. He could have been turned over to the Reclaimers. Marcel pointed out the Protectorate would have had the news as every headline on Earth, but I still worried.
The only avenue I hadn’t explored further was Eiraf’s message. I had run it through my head a million times, but nothing made any sense. I decided I needed to use the doorbell again and speak with Eiraf, if I went there, or at least Alyx. I found Mom and Dad sitting at the dining room table, eating breakfast.
Mom looked up as I entered. “Good morning, Swee
theart. How did you sleep?”
“Fine. I wanted to ask you both a question.”
They shared a glance before Dad said, “Sure, what’s up?”
The best way to do this was to rip the band-aid off. “I want to use the doorbell to talk to Alyx about Mr. Waxenby. Maybe he has a way to help us locate him, since Marcel and the Underground haven’t heard anything about his location.”
Dad leaned forward, putting his crossed arms on the table. “Why now? It’s only been a week, and Warden said it wouldn’t be easy to find him.”
I sat back in my chair, pulling my thoughts together. “I don’t know. I woke up this morning, and it just felt like I should at least try.”
Mom’s eyebrows went up, but she didn’t say anything. Dad shrugged in response. My parents are weird or telepathic, possibly both. Mom broke the silent conversation. “Okay, there and back, no side trips to the California malls and definitely no surfing; water and electricity don’t mix.” She smirked at her joke. I face-palmed. Even my mom’s a comedian. “I’ll tell Blaze you’re skipping practice this morning.”
“Thanks, I won’t be long.” I pecked Mom on the cheek and ran for the door. I didn’t want them to have time to change their minds. I took the stairs two at a time down to the doorbell’s storage room.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the button. The swirling vortex greeted me, and my stomach clenched. Once we got Waxenby back, I vowed never to use this thing again. I stepped out into nothing and fell through the nothingness, lights twisting and dancing around me as I moved toward Alyx’s end of the maelstrom. “Eiraf!” I yelled into the emptiness, hoping to feel the pull that proceeded my last visit, but nothing happened. I continued to try until I landed at the doorstep. I opened the door, stepping out into the basement of the hideout.
Nausea hit me like a runaway freight train coming down a mountain. I clenched my teeth to keep from vomiting all over the terracotta tile, which might have helped it look better. Lurching to the couch, I fell onto it, feeling my stomach roiling and vertigo spinning the room around me as if I sat on a merry-go-round. I put my head in my hands and waited for the sickness to pass.
Before, I’d been dizzy after the doorbell, but nothing like this. I wondered if all the yelling had upset my system more since I’d been in the vortex longer than usual. I heard the creaking floorboards above my head; Alyx or Gladiator was here, so one good bit of news.
My stomach slowly stopped its impression of a bucking bronco and let me off the ride. A few deep breaths later, I felt better but not great. Well enough to take the stairs and speak with Alyx, hopefully. I like Gladiator, but I doubted arcane, eyeless woman babbling in strange riddles were his speed.
Over the last month, Mom had replaced all the 80s vintage furniture with a large sectional and a flat panel monitor. Marcel had automated everything in the house, so the lights kicked on as I entered through the wall, or door, depending on how you looked at it. I stood, noticing tasteful tapestries had replaced the surfer decor. The tapestries were probably Gladiator’s, procured over his long lifetime.
I gently eased my way up the stairs, taking care not to upset my stomach any more than necessary. A ginger ale would be greatly appreciated at this point, though I doubted they had any in the house, even though they kindly kept the fridge stocked with Mountain Dew for us. I reached the door and opened it into the spacious living room. “Alyx, Nico?” I called out. I turned the corner to head for the kitchen, stopping dead in my tracks.
A large man dressed all in red robes stood peering into the open refrigerator. He reared back, spotting me, eyes widening. In his left hand, he held an ornate wooden staff with something affixed to the top. I’m not sure what it was, since he pointed it at me, screaming “Foul demon, I hereby abjure you in the name of the mighty Rexgarr!” A bolt of red energy sprang to life, speeding across the distance between us. I rolled to the side, just missing the coffee table as the blast nicked my shoulder. The living room fireplace behind me imploded from the concussion.
I flipped over onto my back, the robed figure looming over me, staff gripped in both hands ready to strike. “Any last words, demon?”
Only one. “Help!”
16
I knew full well getting thwacked with a wooden staff couldn’t hurt me, but my lizard brain panicked at the sight of a tall man, bald, but with a bushy gray beard, preparing to turn me into shish kabob. I held my hands before me, ready to block the blow, but the guy seemed like he knew what he was doing.
“Charles, stop!” Alyx’s voice came from inside the kitchen. I snuck a peek, without taking my focus off the butt of the staff. “Tommy is a friend.”
A frown creased Charles’ face. “Do you not smell the stench coming off him? He is in league with the darkness.”
Alyx sped across the floor in his wheelchair to the living room, the small motor humming as it propelled him toward us. A concerned expression etched his features as he came closer. “I do, but there has to be an explanation. Please sit down, Charles.”
I got to my feet. Charles glared at me but said nothing as he adjusted his dark red robes and took a spot on the gray couch that sat against the wall. I noticed he gripped the staff as he tried to appear relaxed. Runes ran the length of the light-colored wood staff, a carved dragon’s head adorned the top, and unlike its owner, its eyes shone with wisdom and knowing. I studied Charles, thinking that if he pulled out a lightsaber, he couldn’t have looked more like a Jedi knight. “Alyx, I came here to talk to you. Could we discuss it in private?”
Unlike the older wizard, Alyx wore jeans, the openings neatly seamed shut where his legs ended, and a faded blue Storytellers Brewery t-shirt. His hair had the same messy style that took others hours to accomplish. He shook his head slowly. “Charles is right. Tommy, you have the remnants of a terrible power surrounding you. I need you to stay still while I investigate.” Blue light sprang to life around his right hand. He mumbled under his breath as he wove a circle around my feet, the design so intricate that I couldn’t follow it.
Time slipped away, consumed by the glowing lights and swirling colors dancing around me. Sparks shot in all directions as the magic leapt up, surrounding me in a sphere. Shapes twirled around me. I concentrated on them, trying to figure out what they were. They shifted, twisting from one form to another in rapid succession. My brain ached from the strain of attempting to identify them before they evolved. Dark red and black flowed off my skin, imploding on the inside of the sphere wherever the two streams met. Time had become meaningless before the colors pouring off me ebbed.
The circle flared as Alyx lowered his hand, watching intently as the blue swirled, bits of red and orange mixing into the kaleidoscope colors. A few seconds later, the light died and winked out.
“Interesting,” Charles murmured from his place on the couch. He stroked his long beard as he spoke. “It would seem I owe the lad an apology.”
I glanced back to the shattered fireplace on the far side of the room. “I think you owe Alyx a new fireplace as well.”
Charles glowered at me, which I returned. I didn’t appreciate being ambushed in our safe house. Alyx broke the silence before it could escalate. “Tommy, come over and sit down. Charles overreacted, but you have to understand the miasma that clings to you is the same as the enemy we are sworn to protect the Earth from.”
The room held two light gray couches with a metal coffee table in the center with enough room for Alyx to get his wheelchair through. A large TV hung over a long, oaken sideboard that was probably older than dirt. Dust from the marble fireplace drifted around.
I sat on the unoccupied sofa and ignored Grumpy, who rearranged his robes again. He reminded me of Mom as she did and re-did her hair before a big trial. The dark brown fabric didn’t look any different now than it had before his fussing with it. “I came here to discuss what happened after I got Blaze.”
Alyx rolled over to face me. “So please tell me what happened?”
I cleared my throat as I
organized my thoughts. “I’ve used the doorbell on multiple occasions and never had a problem.”
Charles interrupted. “Doorbell? What in the world is the boy talking about?”
“I created an intra-dimensional gateway so Cyclone Ranger’s team could come here as needed. It’s coded to allow only the six of them to use it,” Alyx said, irritation creeping into his tone.
“The covenant strictly forbids us from meddling in human events. I must protest this use of your magic in aiding a group outside our sphere of influence.” Charles’ voice sounded overly pompous. I’m not sure what size pole needed to be shoved up your ass before you sounded like him.
Alyx waved him off. “We can discuss the proper application of magic as prescribed by the covenant later. Frankly, the Gifted have always been thought outside the realms of the covenant, but it can wait until Tommy has told his story. I have the feeling it will be important.”
Charles stopped himself before he launched into another sermon. “Very well, continue.”
I waited until Alyx nodded to me. “I sent Blaze then stepped through. The colors changed immediately. The blue of the vortex turned red. I heard a voice call my name before being wrenched away from the door. I landed in a huge cave.”
Charles mumbled. “Hmm, interesting,” as I spoke.
“I followed a path to the back of the cave, where a woman named Eiraf…”
Alyx blanched, all the color sliding out of his face. “What name did you say?”
“I’m sorry, I might be saying it wrong. I thought it was the name she gave.”
“Holy mercies above,” Charles said, crossing himself. “Why has she returned?”
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t bode well for us. Tommy, continue.”
I went on telling of the ghostly heads crashing into Eiraf as she spoke. I repeated what she’d said as close to word-for-word as I could. Alyx and Charles would stop me to review at particular points, but finally, Alyx seemed satisfied with my recall of the event.
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