Phoenix Rising

by Corrina Lawson

  “Kyle, tell him you’re sorry,” she said.

  Kyle said, “Sorry,” still hanging his head.

  Alec leaned down so he was eye level with the boy and held out the lemonade. “Hey, no problem. You just startled me.”

  The boy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “How’d you do that trick with the bottle?”

  Alec smiled. “Magic.”

  The boy giggled and took the bottle back.

  Alec straightened. Beth stopped holding her breath as she watched the mother and boy retreat out the door. She and Alec followed close behind. When they had walked far enough to be alone, she stepped closer to him.

  “Alec, that’s twice now that your TK worked!” She controlled the impulse to jump for joy. “And with liquid too. I thought you couldn’t grab liquid.”

  “Sometimes I can grab small amounts.” Alec pulled out the apple turnover and started munching. “It’s not there yet but it’s getting stronger.”

  “So why aren’t you more excited?”

  “Because I’m thinking, and because it’s not my fire yet,” he said. “Where’s the harbor?”

  That was a pretty clear signal to stop asking questions, so she did. “This way.”

  They walked a couple of blocks to the closed visitor’s center and sat on a bench overlooking the half-circle-shaped harbor. There was no beach here, only a rocky shore that had been exposed by the low tide. Seaweed covered the rocks. Seagulls flew overhead, cawing.

  Alec frowned. “This doesn’t look like any harbor I’ve seen in books.”

  “It’s a small harbor and a working one.” She pointed to a couple of boats at a pier on the right. “Those are fishing boats, not recreational vessels.”

  Alec leaned back on the bench. He appeared nonchalant but he glanced right, left and behind him.

  “Is someone following?”

  He shrugged. “Not that I can tell. It can’t hurt to check.”

  She nodded and tried to relax, respecting his silence. She’d been so focused on Alec that she hadn’t realized that she’d blown up her own life with this stunt. If Alec went with her, she’d have to start a new life with a new name. And if he went back willingly to the Resource, she’d have to hide from them.

  A new life, a new name, like last time, except now she would leave so much behind. No, she wouldn’t think about it. She’d made her choice and that was that. No regrets.

  “What you said, you’re right.” Alec brushed crumbs off his hand. “I have to go back to the Resource and soon. If the TK is working, even by instinct, I can help F-Team. They might be able to handle Demeter and his cell but I’m the only one who has a hope of keeping them from setting off the bomb when we attack.”

  She bit into her bagel, enjoying the feel of the soft morning wind around her face. “What will your reception be like if you go back? Will you be punished?”

  He glanced around, on alert again, as he finished the last of the turnover. “If I have full power back when I return, they won’t have the ability to tell me anything.” He turned to her. “Come with me.”

  “What?” She swallowed. “You mean, come to the Resource with you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Alec, they’d make me a prisoner.”

  “Still think Lansing will hurt you?”

  “He pulled a gun on me. I know he would.”

  Alec leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. He’d picked a black T-shirt today, along with a pair of weathered jeans. He could have belonged here, could have been one of the fishermen, save for his smooth hands. She also doubted fishermen were this handsome. Very few men were. She finished her bagel. A seagull landed near them. She kicked out and it flew away.

  “You paid for everything again. You know, I never have cash, just credit cards. And they’re company credit cards. They’d know if I used them, wouldn’t they?”

  “Definitely, they could track your purchases. That’s why I’ve stuck to cash.”

  “I never noticed not having cash.”

  She nodded. Why hadn’t she thought to mention this to him before? It would have been the perfect way to show him that Lansing had no intention of letting him run his life. “Money is power and it’s one way to control you.”

  “Anything I ask for, I usually get.”

  “It’s not the same. You should be earning a very high salary. Akin to at least what Daz gets. The Resource pays well. And you should have control over that money.”

  He tilted his head up at her. “How much does the Resource pay you?”

  She named her hourly rate.

  “I don’t know if that’s a lot. That’s good?”

  “It’s a lot. And I’m just an independent contractor. For combat, for what they ask of you, you should be getting twice that, at the very least. Let’s put it this way, you should be paid enough to afford a place on your own in New York City or to buy a sports car like Daz.”

  “Now that’s something I’ll have to take up with Lansing.” His face brightened and he straightened. “So, off to the beach?”

  “Let’s take a roundabout walk to the car, so you can see more of the town.”

  She stood and led him past the main drag to a secondary street filled with houses. There was a family—mom, dad, two kids—playing on a swing set in one of the yards, their weathered house looming over them.

  “Where’s your family?” Alec said.

  “My mother died long ago. I only have my foster father.”

  “Your mother was the one who loved the M&Ms?”

  “Yes.”

  “How old were you when she died?”

  “Eight,” she said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  He stuffed his hands into his pockets. They walked past another house, larger than the ones that overlooked the harbor. From the numerous cars in the driveway, she guessed it was a multi-family home. The white paint on the windows and the pale blue on the slats was peeling. This town had seen better days.

  On the street, cars zipped by them into the post office parking lot. The day had definitely started.

  “What about your real father?” he asked.

  “He apparently never wanted to be around,” she said. “My foster father is my real father.”

  “I never knew either of my parents,” Alec said. “Just Lansing.”

  “He seems like he would be a demanding parent. Did you give him trouble growing up other than cheating at piano lessons?”

  Alec shook his head. “No. Like you said, he can be pretty scary.”

  And young Alec had probably wanted to please him. That was his nature. He wanted to do the right thing. Beth stuffed her hands into her pockets too. “I know how hard it is to feel all alone, to think of yourself as an orphan. I know the Resource gives you a family of sorts. And I think F-Team really does care about you. That’s what makes so hard to rebel. However, most people go through a rebellious phase with their families. You’re overdue for yours.”

  “I seem to be overdue for a lot of things.” The houses ended and Alec stared across a large lawn to a long, one-story brick building. “What’s that?”

  “An elementary school.”

  “Ah.” He stared at the empty playground for a while before moving on.

  “So how many good friends do you have?”

  She cleared her throat. He sure knew which buttons to push, didn’t he? “I have friends that I’m close to, but not as many friends as I’d like, and not as close as I’d like. Studies say that orphans have trouble forming bonds. I guess that’s true.”

  He nodded. “So even if I was raised in the normal world, I might have trouble fitting in?”

  She frowned. His mind was so quick. She’d underestimated him again. “I don’t know. You were so young when Lansing obtained custody, too young to know what you’d lost, I think. You might have bonded to a new family.”

  “Maybe. And maybe I would have killed them or myself. My earliest memories are all of fire all aroun
d me, uncontrollable. Sometimes it scorches me too. I remember a lot of coughing, a lot of oxygen masks around my face. My first good memory is taking control of the fire and making it all go out.”

  She stopped. He turned to look at her.

  “How old were you, Alec?”

  “Four, I think,” he said. “Lansing talked me down, that time. There are still some scars low on my back from before I really knew what I was doing. Lansing said I instinctively shielded myself from the fire with the TK but I was so young I forgot about my back.”

  “That must have hurt a great deal.” Oh, Alec.

  “It was incentive to learn control, that’s for damn sure. Lansing gave me ice cream that night for dinner. I liked that.”

  She glanced at the school. No, that probably wouldn’t have been a good place for Alec. “I think you might have a point. As much as I’d like to say you don’t.”

  “Lansing did right by me.” He started walking again. “First, I learned to not be a danger to myself. Then I learned how to control it. And none of the Resource techs ever made me feel like they were afraid of me.”

  She nodded. “Okay, they did all this. But that doesn’t give Lansing total control over who you are, any more than any parents are allowed to dictate to adult children what path they should follow in life.”

  “Hey, isn’t that what parents do?” He glanced over at her, watching her face for a reaction.

  “No, I think good parents teach you independence, so you can make decisions on your own. They let you make your own mistakes.”

  “Is your foster father that way?”

  She nodded. “I was young and scared. He pushed me out into the world. But I did know if I ever floundered, he’d be there. That helped.”

  And Philip had never pulled a gun on her friends. That I know of, anyway.

  Alec stopped again in front of the town’s library. He stared at it for a while, glancing from the sign to the library. It had three large floors, plus an attic, all done in a Victorian style that told her that this used to be a home before it became a library.

  There was a stately wrap-around porch encased by white railings, like something out of a history book. All it needed was a swing.

  Giggling could be heard from the back of the building.

  “If I go it alone, leave the Resource, will you be there for me?” Alec asked.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, challenging her. She tried hard to reach for her professional poise, elated at the possibility that he might choose to break with the Resource, against all odds.

  “Alec,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper, “if you decide to leave the Resource. I will be there to help.”

  “Whatever I decide? Wherever I go?”

  His stare unnerved her. What was he really asking?

  “I can’t follow you to the Resource. I also can’t be your counselor. I’ve crossed a boundary there and can’t go back. But I am your friend. If you want help, all you have to do is ask. I promise.”

  Her heart felt like a hand held it tight inside her chest. She could barely breathe.

  “That’s a hell of a promise. Why you made it, I’m not sure. I hope you can keep it.” He turned back to the library. The morning sun glinted off his hair, giving it shine. He put up a hand to shade his eyes. “Lansing has a private library. A whole room. He used to read to me in it.”

  “What books did he read to you?”

  “The Iliad and the Odyssey. Dickens.”

  “Classics,” she said.

  “I guess. I had to learn to sit quiet and just listen. Sometimes the suit he made me wear itched.”

  “You had to wear a suit?”

  He shrugged. “Men dress up for dinner and after dinner, Lansing said.”

  “Not many anymore.”

  “I found that out from Daz. I haven’t worn a suit since. Anyway, Lansing’s library is a good size but nothing like this one.”

  She could almost see his thoughts on his face. Books. Made of paper. Easy to burn.

  “Alec.”

  “What?” He turned to face her.

  “The world is not kindling.”

  His face went blank. “The world looks different to me.”

  She backed a step away from him. “True.”

  “I’m going to see what those voices are.”

  He strode around to the back of the library. She had to struggle to keep pace and almost walked into him when he stopped abruptly under an oak tree. In front of them, there was a gathering of about ten young children seated on blankets on the lawn. She spotted Kyle, curled in his mother’s lap.

  Beth took a step to the side to see around Alec, having no idea why he found this so interesting. Alec crossed his arms and leaned against the tree trunk. He raised an eyebrow at her, challenging. She shrugged and watched the children with him.

  A young librarian with long brunette hair tied back in a ponytail stepped down the back stairs, carrying several picture books in her hands. This must be a children’s book hour. Wonderful. What a perfect place for a story. The trees provided shade and privacy but allowed the children to feel less confined. She smiled, remembering how her mother had often read her stories on long summer mornings, both cuddled together on their porch swing.

  The librarian opened a book and began to read. Beth couldn’t catch the words but when the kids began clapping in rhythm, she knew what it was. “Bingo”. They were singing “Bingo”. Kyle was a beat late, but he giggled and smiled just the same.

  Alec watched Kyle and even tapped his foot to go along with the hand-clapping. She shuddered, thinking of Alec as a little boy, sitting rigid and careful in an uncomfortable suit while Lansing forced him to listen. No Goodnight Moon or Thomas the Tank Engine or Little Engine that Could for Alec.

  The kids ended the song with a flourish and a lot of giggles. Alec’s face lightened but, in a second, he scowled. He turned away from the story time and began walking back to the street, almost stomping. His mouth was set in a firm line. She wanted to rush to him and hug him, give him all the affection he’d never received when he was Kyle’s age. Instead, she clasped her hands behind her back.

  “Do all kids know that song?” he said when he reached the street.

  “Bingo’s very common.”

  “I never learned any kid songs.”

  “I’m sorry for that.”

  “Don’t pity me.”

  His walk grew faster and she struggled to keep up.

  “Where’s the car?” he said.

  “End of the street, turn left, and we’ll come to the parking lot the back way.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Alec thought he saw someone duck around the corner of the alley as he waited for Beth to unlock the car. And he could have sworn someone was watching them while they ate breakfast. He’d seen nothing concrete, only a flash out of the corner of his eye—something that shouldn’t have been there. It could be either the Resource or the CIA.

  I’m not paranoid if someone is really out to get me.

  “Let’s go to the beach now,” he said. “I’ll drive.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t have a license. That’s a problem if we’re stopped.”

  Cops. Yeah, he wanted to avoid them. He looked around again. Two dark blue vans were parked in the bank lot across the street. If he’d had his TK and fire, he’d have walked over and confronted whoever was inside. But not now. Wait and see, until he knew the right moves, until he was at full power.

  “Looking for someone?” she said, her voice trembling just slightly.

  The Resource really did scare her. He shrugged. “It’s almost automatic, like casing the stores or thinking of books as kindling. Okay, you drive for now.”

  As they pulled into the street, he watched the vans. They didn’t make any move to follow. But he kept a close eye on the rearview mirrors. Beth headed away from the center of town, away from the stores and the traffic. But instead of descending, they seemed to be climbing. The beach should be at the
lowest point.

  “Sure we’re going the right way?” The houses had faded to maybe one or two per mile. Empty fields and small woods took up most of the view.

  “It’s just a little farther.” She turned onto a dirt road that ended in an informal parking lot with a wooden fence as a boundary. It was surrounded by huge trees, with no sign of the beach. No other cars were there.

  “This doesn’t look like the beach.”

  “We have to walk from here. There’s a path.”

  He hoped it was a path and not a trap. But he couldn’t see why this should be a trap, so he followed her down a narrow dirt trail that wound between exposed rocks and tree roots. It turned left, then right, but it went steadily downhill. The air was full of the scent of pine and the sea, a combination that seemed strange. It was definitely different from the industrial smells of the New Jersey docks. Gulls squawked overhead. That was the same.

  The sound of waves breaking grew louder. They must be close.

  “How much farther?” He tried to peer through the dense leaves.

  “Just around the next turn.”

  He took ten more steps and the world opened up.

  They were at the edge of a small, curved beach. It wasn’t like the beaches Daz had talked about, the ones with white sand and crystal blue water.

  This beach had sand but it was full of rocks. The biggest one dominated the beach and had to be the largest damn boulder he’d ever seen, about the size of a monster truck. It looked painted with stripes too. Weird.

  Beth stepped forward, careful to avoid slipping on the smaller, slimy rocks. She stopped at the boulder and leaned against it. She crossed her arms and looked out into the ocean. For the first time today, she seemed relaxed.

  He leaned against the rock next to her, looking at the white-capped waves and the water that seemed to go on forever. There must be boats out there but he couldn’t see them. No wonder sailors said that the sea called to them. It offered the promise of something never-ending, adventures just over the horizon.

  He’d never known this place existed before today. Never known it could exist. He’d seen videos. He’d even visited a geological museum once. They didn’t compare to reality.

  And he owed this to Beth.