by Jackson Ford
I spent most of today fighting a losing battle against confusion and exhaustion. The meth comedown, the people chasing us, the ridiculous number of times we’ve almost died. Twice today, I have literally been trapped in horrific hallucinations. The rest of the time, I’ve been seeing things my own mind has put there, little flickers and feelings that someone is coming up behind me. For the first time today, maybe for the first time in years, I know exactly what I have to do.
“Think?” I lock eyes with Nic. “Think. OK. I’m getting mighty tired of that word. I’ve had people telling me to think before I do shit for… well, pretty much for ever. Everybody has this stupid fucking idea in their head that I’m just this little kid who doesn’t know what she’s doing.
“But here’s the thing, dude. I did start thinking. I did start acting like a grown-up, even if nobody noticed. Tanner told me I needed to focus on the job and help catch the bad guys, and that’s exactly what I did. You know what it all got me? Using my abilities like I was told? It made me miserable. Being an adult about everything made me fucking miserable.”
I probably shouldn’t getting into this now – no, scratch that, I definitely shouldn’t be getting into this now – we are running real short on time. But I don’t have a choice. It’s all there, and at this point, it’s coming out no matter what I do.
“All I ever wanted was to cook.” Tears prick at the corner of my eyes, but my voice stays steady. “I just wanted to work in a kitchen and go home at the end of the night knowing I made people happy. I had to give that up, because everybody acted like it was this stupid, childish fantasy. And I thought they were right, and I did what they asked me to, made the adult choices, and Nic? Guess what? It wasn’t enough for people. You, Reggie, Annie, everybody. I’m still just a little girl, I don’t take responsibility, I’m too reckless. It’s never gonna be enough, no matter what I do, no matter how grown-up I act.”
“I don’t get why you think that—”
“If you say that word one more time I’m going to take your car keys out of pocket and jam them up your nose. I am thinking. I’m looking around me, and I’m seeing people that are going to die if I don’t do something, and I’m doing it. Don’t tell me I’m not thinking, and don’t tell me I’m not acting like an adult here.”
“I never said that!”
True, he didn’t, but there’s no chance of stopping me now. “Everybody wants me to use my power to save lives? OK. I’m gonna save lives. Maybe giving up chef school was the right thing to do, but that doesn’t mean I have to give up everything else. Adulting means making your own decisions, and I’m making this one. I’ve thought about it, and I’ve made a call. This is happening.”
He’s slowly shaking his head. I can’t read the look on his face; it’s as if awe and disbelief had a baby, and that little baby expression was then adopted by exasperation and raised to be pissed at just about everything.
“I don’t want you to do this,” he says, after a long moment.
“I know. But I have to.”
He looks away then, eyes shining. Fixed on the middle distance. As if he’s trying to process what he’s feeling, and can’t quite do it.
Annie is still there, twenty feet from us. Arms folded, impatient, not looking at me. I want to call out to her, but I have no idea what to say. Maybe I can convince Nic – maybe – but there’s no chance with her.
“What if the water gets here and you’re still helping people?” Leo says. I’d almost forgotten he was still there. He hasn’t said a word.
I force a smile onto my face. “I can fly, little man.”
“You can fly?”
“Well, sort of. I can make other stuff fly, and then just stand on top of it.” I turn to Nic. “If the flood gets here and I’m still around, I’ll levitate myself up onto the freeway. Promise.”
“What about Reggie? What are we going to do if—?”
“You got this.” I can’t help but glance at Leo, still kind of amazed that he’s okay with everything. “There’s still time before the meet. Between you and Annie, you can figure something out.”
“What if we can’t?” His voice is a croak.
There’s no answer to that. Nothing any of us can say, or do.
After a long moment, Nic steps forward. He wraps his arms around me, and pulls me close.
“If the flood gets here, and you’re still around, you get the fuck out,” he says. “I don’t care how many people are left. I want that date, Frost,” he says.
I smile into his shoulder. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
“I’m serious. First date. You and me, good-ass food. No earthquakes or electricity powers, or saving the world. You better not miss it, you hear me?”
A sound comes out of me, and I don’t know if it’s a laugh, or a sob.
We stand there for a few seconds, clutching each other tightly. When I finally let go, I get an immediate urge to go back in, just hug him and hug him until the whole world burns.
Instead, I crouch down, and wrap my arms around Leo.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. And this time, there’s no mistaking the tears rolling down my face. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s OK.”
“We’ll… we’ll figure out a way to keep you safe. From the Zigzag Man, I mean. Nic and Annie, they’ll…”
The look in his eyes feels as if it should be coming from someone much older. “I know.”
Annie still hasn’t moved. She’s just standing there, twenty feet away. A still form in the middle of the chaos.
Is she just going to walk away? Without saying anything?
After all we’ve been through, I hoped…
I don’t know what I hoped.
Leo takes Nic’s hand, and Nic looks back at me, one last time.
Then they’re gone.
I close my eyes, just for a second. Centre myself as best I can – which is hilarious, since I’ve never been very good at that. But I’ve got a lot of work to do, and not a lot of time to do it, so I’d best figure this shit out fast.
Best thing to do would be to create an exit, a way out under the freeway on either side. But I’m not sure I could do it without completely revealing my ability – or at least, without scaring the hell out of people. Then again, who gives a fuck? I need to get these people out now.
Problem is, if I start moving things around – even if nobody knows it’s me – it might start a panic. Just because I create an exit doesn’t mean anybody is going to go near it. And looking around now, I’m already seeing ways I can help – confused people I can assist. If I can get a critical mass of them moving, then the rest might follow. Just start small. Help one person, then another. Then another.
Heavy footsteps, coming up behind me. I whirl, just in time for Annie Cruz to put her hands on my chest and shove me.
It’s not a big shove. She doesn’t knock me over or anything. But it still makes me stumble back a few feet, arms out behind me, feet slipping on a wet patch of concrete. “Annie, what the f—?”
“You piece of shit.”
It come through Annie’s gritted teeth, more hiss than words, and that’s when I see just how angry she is. This isn’t regular angry. This is nuclear reactor angry. This is burn-the-world-down-and-dance-on-the-ashes angry.
I look past her, hoping that Nic will save me. But he and Leo are nowhere to be seen.
“Annie – Jesus Christ, enough, OK? We don’t have time for—”
“Fuck you.” She jabs a finger into my chest, Flexing and un-flexing her other hand, like she wants to slug me. “You’re not a… a… a fucking superhero. I don’t care what powers you got and shit, you don’t have to save the world every time.”
“Please stop,” I say.
“No, no, you don’t get to—”
“Annie, please, I don’t—”
“Because I’m tired of having to keep your ass out of trouble. You do this shit over and over, and you think you’re gonna live for ever and—”
> “Stop it!”
My voice cracks so hard that the words are barely understandable.
“You don’t get it—” she starts.
I cut her off. “No. You don’t get it. Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear what I told Nic – you know exactly why I’m doing this. It’s my decision. Nic understands it, Reggie will probably understand it too; hell, even Tanner might understand it. Why can’t you?”
“You wanna know what I saw?” she says. “When the Zigzag Man hit us that last time?”
She’s barely holding it together. Under the rage is raw, brittle terror. “I saw you,” she says. “Dead. Just like Paul. Under the fucking ground.”
I put a hand on her shoulder. She smacks it away. “Don’t you fucking touch me.”
“But Annie… I made it. We made it. You pulled me out of there, right?”
“I can’t lose you again.” Hissed through gritted teeth. “If you go, there’s nobody else. Nobody who’s got my back.”
“I—”
Her words come in a sudden rush. “You’re the only one who gave a shit, you know that? After Paul. You were the only one who kept asking how I was doing. Reggie tried, but she had so much to deal with already. Africa, he’s a good dude, but it’s not as if he… He doesn’t know how to say it. Even my mom, she misses Paul too, I know she does, but she never wants to talk about him. It’s like she wants to pretend it never happened. Like we’re all gonna be fine. Same thing for everybody who came to that memorial service we had for him. They were just there for the party. They don’t care about us. So yeah, when you get down to it, you’re the only friend I’ve got.”
I am completely at sea in this conversation right now. Way beyond sight of land. What she’s saying doesn’t make sense. More than that: I’m not just confused, I’m angry.
“I don’t get it.” My throat feels too tight, furious tears pricking at the corner of my eyes. “You’ve been pissed at me for weeks now. Fuck it, months. No matter what I do or say, you just yell at me. Or make snarky comments. Or tell me I’m being… being stupid. Don’t pretend like you—”
“Because you keep trying to get yourself killed!” She roars in my face. “You keep putting yourself in these situations, and you do it over, and over, and over, and for what? For people who don’t care about you? Who don’t even know who you really are? And if they did know… Teags, if they knew, they’d…”
She trails off, closes her eyes. I’m about to interrupt, but she starts speaking again before I get there.
“You keep risking your life and you pretend like it’s no big thing because you got your voodoo. Like the rest of us don’t have to watch it happen. Like we don’t count at all.”
Her voice cracks. “What if this is the one time it doesn’t work? What if you’re gone, and I’m still here?”
And all at once, it’s like she shuts down. Like she grabs her emotions, and locks them in place. Her eyes go dead.
“No more,” she says. “I can’t deal with this shit any more. If you stay here? If you don’t come with me right now? We’re done, you and me. I’m out of China Shop, out of all of it. You will never see me again.”
I’m not just lost at sea, I’m getting hit by wave after wave. This is… insane. Where is this coming from?
But of course, I know the answer to that, even if she doesn’t.
It’s coming from a place of confusion.
A place of grief, and loss, and fear.
It’s twisted the way she views the world. Made it impossible for her to think straight. She’s so terrified of losing me that she’s blocked out everything else, focused all of her anger on me because in her mind, I won’t listen.
What would happen if the situation was reversed? If it was Annie who might die, and not me? How would I feel if she kept putting herself in danger?
I don’t know.
And that’s the scariest thing of all.
“Last chance,” Annie says.
There’s a moment where I almost go with her. Take her hand, let her lead me out. Away from all of this. Let her take me to a place where we save Reggie, save Leo. And a place where I can save her.
But around us, the chaos hasn’t stopped. The people are still here, still not leaving fast enough. Soon, the flash flood is going to be here. And if I go with Annie…
I don’t want to make this choice. It’s worse than anything I’ve experienced today. Worse than the meth comedown. Worse than splitting up the team.
I meet her eyes. A part of me expects her to soften, to finally understand how irrational she’s being, how she can’t possibly ask this of me. Instead, she just shakes her head. Slowly. Side to side.
“Annie,” I whisper. “Don’t.”
She steps back, like I slapped her.
Then she turns, and runs.
FORTY-SEVEN
Teagan
There is nothing I can do.
Not a damn thing.
All I can do is watch her go. Running through the conversation in my head, trying out a million different imagined responses, a million ways that it could have gone differently.
The urge to chase after her is almost overpowering. Chase her, stop her, demand that she explain herself. You don’t treat friends like this. You don’t give them ultimatums.
And what would you say if someone you cared about kept putting themselves in harm’s way? What would you do?
She never told me. She never told me how she felt about me.
But is that true? Or did I just… miss it?
I don’t know.
What I do know is this. I have to survive. I have to stop the flash flood. Because there is no way I’m letting that be the end of it.
So I push everything that just happened to the back of my mind.
In twenty-five minutes, this place is going to be underwater. Unless I figure this out pretty fucking fast, everyone here is going to be in the middle of it.
First things first. Let’s make an exit.
I move as fast as I can, winding my way through the scaffolding. I keep having to dodge around people, yelling at them to move.
I pop out the southern end of the camp, scanning the side of the channel to my right. It’s wall-to-wall flood barrier at the top, but I think I can change that. I hope.
I’m already breathing hard, my chest burning. The second I get in range, a little way up the slope, I wrap my PK around the supports of one of the barriers – the big metal brackets holding it in place. I grit my teeth as I pull them upwards, tearing the bolts out of the concrete.
The barrier gives a screeching, groaning sound, starting to tip forward. There are panicked yells and shouts below me, but they are focused on the tipping barrier, not on me, which is good. The problem is, the barrier isn’t going down easy. It resists me, forcing me to push more energy into my PK.
Use the meth.
My hand is on my jacket pocket, over the little baggie inside. Being supercharged would make this easy.
I jerk my hand away. I don’t need the meth to do this. I don’t. I took that little bag so I could experiment later. That’s all. I definitely didn’t bring it with me so I could snort from it whenever I needed to use my PK.
As if validating this, the barrier suddenly comes loose. It tips forward, slamming onto the slope, turning sideways as it slides down the concrete. I have to skip out of the way, and it crashes onto the flat part of the storm drain.
Now there’s a gap. A big empty spot at the top of the slope, like a missing tooth.
It doesn’t look like anyone knows that it was me who created it, and more importantly, it doesn’t look like they care how it happened. They are already scrambling up the slope to my left and right, yelling at others to follow.
That’s a good start. But there’s no guarantee that the people under the freeways will even know there is an exit, especially if they were at the far end. The camp is a big, confused, buzzing mess.
The problem isn’t the people currently on their feet, moving aro
und, trying to track down lost family members or friends. They know what’s coming, and they know they probably don’t have much time. The problem is the people who aren’t moving. The ones who are passed out, drugged out of their minds, disabled, injured. There’s nobody coming for them, nobody to hustle them along. This place might have had some loose organisation, once upon a time, but it’s gone to shit now.
The people leaving or getting ready to leave don’t know about the ones who are still here. They probably aren’t even aware they exist. But I am. Because I can feel the objects they carry with them. I can pick up their cell phones and watches and chains, their backpacks and wallets and money clips. All I have to do is look for the objects that aren’t moving.
And as I sprint back into the chaos of the camp, that’s exactly what I do.
I don’t let myself think. I don’t let myself consider anything else, especially not Nic and Leo, especially not Annie, not my friend, not my—
Fuck you. Focus.
There’s the man with the injured leg, the one with the crutches. Or should I say crutch – somehow, in the chaos of the last few minutes, he’s managed to lose one of them. I don’t even know how that’s possible. Did someone steal it? Who the hell would do such a thing?
As I watch, he wobbles to a halt, then sits down with a thud, his chest heaving.
The sight of him blows a fuse in my mind. Because even if I can get people moving, what about the ones here who can’t move? I could pick them up and carry them with my PK – somehow – but I have no clue how to do it without revealing my ability and causing a panic.
I shouldn’t have sent Nic and Annie away. I should have asked them to help. Doing this on my own is insanity.
Except: if they didn’t leave, then Reggie dies.
I’m breathing too fast, the sheer weight of what I’m trying to do settling on me like a heavy blanket. I claw in my pocket for my phone, thinking that maybe I can call someone, anyone. I’m pretty sure the cops or the fire department won’t respond in time, but it might be worth a shot.
It takes me a second to realise that the phone isn’t mine. I stare down at it, completely blanking, until I remember. It’s the phone I took from Minnie, the biker Annie beat the shit out of back of the train depot.