“But, I’m supposed to meet a friend in the afternoon. It’s really important,” I pleaded with Uncle Dan.
He shook his head. “You should have thought about that before breaking the rules.”
I folded my arms and glared as he walked away. Uncle Alex gave me a sympathetic look.
Kevin was watching me carefully. I looked at him and raised an eyebrow. We drifted away from the couch.
He said, “Look, I know you think he won’t be able to tell, but he’ll know.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked uncomfortable. “He just knows when you’re not telling the truth. It’s not even an ability or anything.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “At least I don’t think it is.”
I opened my mouth, and Emma kicked me. I didn’t even know she was there and suddenly I was clutching my ankle. “What the…”
“Shut up,” Emma hissed. “If you complain about your punishment, it’ll remind Dad that we were there too.” She faced me so that her back was to Uncle Dan. “We got off easy and, quite honestly, you did too.”
Her eyes were wide, and I realized she was scared. I reached out to comfort her, but she looked at my hand with a sneer as if it was a slimy worm, and I dropped it to my side. I opened my mouth to speak but realized I didn’t know what to say. I clenched my teeth and smiled at my cousin, who had gone from taking my side no matter what when we were kids to treating me like I was useless. She just stepped back and walked away.
“Leave her alone,” Kevin said, watching her go. “She’s gotten really moody lately.” He smiled slightly at my skeptical expression. “No, she hasn’t always been so grouchy.” He rubbed the back of his neck and then dropped his hand with a sigh. “Just in the past couple of weeks.”
My stomach tightened when I realized what he avoided saying. “Since I came back,” I said flatly.
Kevin shrugged uncomfortably. “There could be other reasons.”
“Really? Like what?” When he didn’t answer, I said, “Yeah, I thought so.” I saw Lange come out of the men’s locker room and realized I hadn’t bothered to find out how he was doing. “How’s Lange?” I asked, watching Kevin for his answer.
“He’s okay. The bastard didn’t hurt him that much.” Kevin shrugged. “He doesn’t need Uncle Alex’s help to heal. I think he’s got a headache, but that’s it.”
I felt a stab of guilt that Uncle Alex had drained his ability so much to help me. I didn’t even know our abilities could be drained.
Hugh came over, looking at us cautiously. “You guys ready to go?” he asked, looking directly at me. “Uncle Dan reminded me to give you a ride home.” He gave me half smile, probably hoping I wouldn’t argue with him.
I considered saying I would walk home just to see what Hugh would do, but I was tired, and it was probably still raining. Getting home to my room and my bed sounded wonderful. I followed Kevin and Hugh to the door without argument. On the way, I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the mirrors in the weight room area. My jeans were torn, the sleeve of my left arm was ripped away, and my face was filthy with dirt and blood. Great, now I had to figure out how to sneak into the house without Dad seeing me in this condition. I really hoped I could avoid him. I was too tired to think of a plausible reason for my appearance.
I stopped beside Uncle Alex who was sitting up straighter on the couch. He smiled at me. “So you’re going to be my assistant tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll appreciate your help.” His voice was kind, but his face was stern.
I blew out my breath. He had just saved my life; I should probably sound a little less pouty. “Um, thank you again. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Zoe, Lange, and Ben were hanging out near the door. I suspected they hadn’t wanted to leave until they were sure everything was going to be okay. I realized I had one more person to thank.
“Hey.” Ben looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on my arm. He gave me a relieved grin. “You look better.”
I was too tired to fight the embarrassed flush creeping up my face at the memory of him carrying me in his arms. His shirt was dark from dried blood, and his hair stuck straight up from where he’d run his blood-covered hands through it. I noticed cuts and bruises on his face and arms, so not all of the blood was mine.
Did everyone have to watch us while we talked? I wished they would all go away so I didn’t feel so self-conscious about thanking Ben. I swallowed hard and said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he answered. “It was easier now that you can shield.” He gave everyone a slightly guilty look before adding, “I didn’t try to read your mind, but I can’t stop from feeling emotions. I’m allowed,” he said to all of us defensively. “You got pretty weak as we got closer to the end of the tunnels. Scared me.”
Me too, I thought.
Hugh hoisted his workout bag onto his shoulder. “Come on. I think everyone is ready to get home.” He waved a hand at the group, who all looked almost as tired and bedraggled as I did. Lange looked the worst, but everyone else was a mess as well.
I followed Zoe out the door. “Hey, is every monster hunt just as awesome as this one was?” I was only half-sarcastic; parts of it had been fun, like scoring a hit on the Mongolian Death Worm. The part where I got hurt was less awesome.
She let out a snorting laugh. “Sometimes.” Her eyes met mine, and I knew she understood; we were built for this sort of action.
Zoe tucked her bag into the side basket on her bicycle and swung on, riding off with a wave. Lange followed on his own bicycle.
Hugh and Kevin tossed their workout bags into the car and got in. I took my usual seat in the back and stared out the window, my mind spinning with ways to meet Jack tomorrow. Maybe Uncle Alex would be sympathetic to my plight and give me a little time to go see Jack. Then I remembered his stern face. No, probably not.
By the time Hugh dropped me off at my house, I still hadn’t figured out how to manage a way to see Jack without being caught. I got out of the car, scanning the house for lights. It looked like I’d caught a break because the house was dark.
I was almost to my bedroom when I heard Dad call out from his room. “Olivia?”
I swallowed hard before answering, “Yeah, it’s me.” Don’t get up, don’t get up, I begged silently. “I’m just going to going bed.”
Dad said sleepily, “Okay, talk to you in the morning.”
Win! Relieved, I said, “Later.”
In the safety of my room, I looked in the mirror. I actually didn’t look too bad. My clothes were trashed, and I felt regret for my black jeans which I really liked, but otherwise I was okay. My arm was healed and the rest of me was just dirty. Really dirty. With a shudder, I pulled off my clothes and slipped into the shower.
Clean and in my pajamas, I got into bed with a grateful sigh. Sleep didn’t come easily; I had a lot to process and visions of Death Worms and dark-haired guys with green eyes chasing faired-haired guys with blue eyes kept drifting through my head.
Chapter 23
Uncle Alex crouched next to the old woman, holding her hand as he spoke to her. After a moment, he closed his eyes while she stared at him with doubt. Even though I’d experienced his healing abilities first hand, I was still in awe of his ability as the sore on her face shrank to nothing. Uncle Alex sighed and opened his eyes, looking tired but pleased. The old woman touched her face, gasping when her searching fingers felt unbroken skin. I wondered how she would explain the rapid healing should anyone care to ask. Uncle Alex told me that most of the homeless folks who came to him called him the ‘magic healer man’. I figured that they didn’t want to expose him out of gratitude.
Uncle Alex patted her on the hand and then stood up, stretching his arms overhead with a groan. It was almost eleven, and we’d been in the empty office building in the NW industrial area off the 99W highway since 8:30 that morning. If the counters with long tall shelves behind them and tires stacked in one corner were any indication, the small building had
probably been an auto supply store at one time. I smelled the faint odor of machine oil under the smell of unwashed humans. Now it was set up as a hospital, reminding me of the medical tents I’d seen in war movies. Except this wasn’t a tent, though it felt a bit like one, with the shades drawn over the windows to hide us from the outside world. Rows of cots filled the area in front of the counter, and chairs lined the walls.
When we had arrived at the office that morning, there was already a line of ragged people waiting at the door for us. They were in various stages of ill health; one man was lying on a makeshift stretcher being carried by two young guys, and a woman clutched her arm where I was certain I saw white bone protruding. Since then, Uncle Alex had worked tirelessly to heal anyone who came in. Uncle Dan’s concern that Uncle Alex would be weaker today seemed unfounded or Uncle Alex was stronger than his brother thought.
I was at a loss as to how to help him, except for occasionally when he asked me to grab clean rags or hold a basin for him. I spent much of my time waiting for it to be a reasonable hour to text Jack, while trying to figure out how to get out of my duties in time to meet him, and trying to convince myself Uncle Dan would understand if he caught me meeting Jack.
I suppose I did help by talking to some of the people while they waited their turn at Uncle Alex’s healing hands. One man, who wore an old business suit with a shawl wrapped around his thin shoulders, spent several minutes telling me about how the government was controlling people through computer solitaire. “Why do you think you get lulled into a stupor when you play? They are reading your mind and sending signals to your brains.” He pointed furiously to his head where he wore a plastic bowl as a hat. It was held on by an old tie. “You won’t find me anywhere near one of those damn things. Beg pardon, ma’am.”
Uncle Alex looked around the room and waved at a man standing near the door. The man’s face was hidden by shadows so I couldn’t make out his features, but, as he drew closer, I started in surprise. It was Harold, the guy whose money bag I’d saved. It felt like ages ago, but in reality it had only been a few weeks since the incident.
“What are you doing here?” I wasn’t exactly pleased to see him. He was another reminder of Jack.
He gave me the same gentle smile he’d given me when we first met. “I drive the van.”
“What van?”
“Ollie, how do you think so many sick people got out here?” Uncle Alex wiped his hands with a damp cloth while giving me a slight frown. “Harold has a van that he uses.” He smiled at Harold. “It’s a huge help. Allows me to be less obvious.”
Harold gave a snort. “Yes, I think someone would notice if you went around the streets healing people. They would either arrest you or start a religion.” He took out a handkerchief and wiped his nose. “Probably both.”
“So people know?” I demanded of Uncle Alex. “Normal people,” I waved a hand at Harold, “like him?” I dropped my voice to a fierce whisper. “They know what we can do?” Could this be my solution to my Jack problem? Just tell him what I can do?
“Olivia, I’ve just spent the morning healing people in a way that can’t be explained with understood science,” he said in a quiet voice as he glanced around the room. “So it is safe to assume some normals know. However, the agreement is I will continue to help as long as no one outs me. Harold helps. He finds ways to explain my abilities.” He finished with a nod at Harold.
“So we can tell people? About us?” I felt a weight starting to lift from my shoulders, but it came crashing back down when Uncle Alex shook his head.
“No, most of the time it’s not allowed. The only exception is spouses, if you choose to tell them.” Uncle Alex gave me a penetrating look. “Not boyfriends.”
I frowned at him, annoyed by his perception.
He turned to Harold. “I’m going to have to call an early day today.” He lifted his hands and dropped them with a sigh. “I had a hard healing last night and haven’t fully recovered.”
Harold tilted his head. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I think you took care of the worst cases,” he said with concern. “I hope the healing was successful.”
Uncle Alex put a hand on my shoulder. “It was, though I think there are still some lessons to be learned.”
I felt a mix of burning resentment and embarrassment. How dare he think he knew what I was feeling? I tried to hide my anger by staring at the floor so they couldn’t see my face.
Harold said in his gentle voice, “I’m glad you’re well-healed, young lady. I still owe you a service for recovering my money and would hate to leave that debt unpaid.” He sounded so formal, almost like he was from some archaic time period.
I looked at him with a frown. Now Uncle Alex would ask what the debt was about, and I really didn’t feel like talking about it.
To my surprise, Uncle Alex didn’t comment on Harold’s words. He simply told Harold he would see him on Wednesday. I slumped in one of the chairs while Harold herded the now-mostly-healed people out the door. Once everyone was gone, I dragged myself to my feet and helped tidy up the space. All the while, I pondered the idea of telling Jack.
We left the industrial area and headed towards the Broadway Bridge. I assumed we were done and was thrilled that I still had a few hours to figure out a way to see Jack at two that afternoon. When Uncle Alex turned the little Mini into a garage in the Pearl District, I said in protest, “I thought we were done.”
“No, we’ll get some lunch and then spend some time at a soup kitchen I help out at sometimes.”
I glared at him. “More people who know who you are.”
Uncle Alex pulled the car into a parking spot and gave me a quelling look. “Not every way of helping involves our abilities. Sometimes we do what a normal person can do.” He got out of the car, and I reluctantly followed. “Help out a soup kitchen, donate clothes, whatever.”
Was this guy going for sainthood? I kicked a small piece of concrete out of way, wincing when it ricocheted off a pillar and almost hit a BMW.
After a quick lunch of burgers and fries, I followed Uncle Alex over to NW Davis Street, where we slipped into a side door leading into a large, bustling kitchen. Several people were lined along the counters, busily peeling and chopping onions and potatoes. Several large bowls of salad sat on the table near a swinging door that I presumed led to the dining room. I heard the murmur of a crowd from the other side. The volume increased briefly as a man swung through the door holding an empty casserole dish. He dropped it in the large sink and grabbed one of the salad bowls before heading back out the door.
A large bald man with neck and arm tattoos greeted us with a grin and called over his shoulder, “Hey Alanine, Alex is here early.”
Alanine turned out to be a large woman with her own set of neck and arm tattoos. She looked surprised to see us but quickly came up with a list of tasks for us. “We could use some more salad and maybe some cherry tomatoes.” She looked around the kitchen before adding, “And some cheddar cheese.” She pulled out a notepad from her apron pocket and wrote on it.
Uncle Alex took out his wallet. “Alanine, this is my niece, Olivia. How about I send her over to the store while I help out in here?”
“Sure, much appreciated,” she answered with a smile at me.
Uncle Alex handed me several bills and said quietly, “Get enough to feed our family after a training session – that’s probably the best way to judge amounts. The grocery store is on NW Couch, near 5th.”
I stuffed the list Alanine handed me into my back pocket. “Okay.” I glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was one o’clock. Maybe Jack could meet me early?
“And Olivia” – I stopped and looked at him – “be back soon. They’re waiting for the supplies.”
I nodded, feeling a shot of embarrassment that he suspected I’d been thinking about slipping out to see Jack. Of course, it didn’t help that he was right.
The tattooed man held the door open for me as I stepped outside. Naturally it had starte
d spitting rain. With a sigh, I pulled up the hood of my jacket and headed for the store.
As I rounded the corner to 5th Street, an argument between a cyclist and a runner caught my attention. The runner was limping around in a circle with blood running down his leg while yelling at the cyclist, who ignored him as he examined the front wheel of his bike. A couple of policemen came over and tried to calm down the runner.
I blinked, unwilling to believe my eyes, but there he was. Jack, standing behind the cops. My heart lifted. It was a sign. I could talk to Jack without breaking the rules. After all, it wasn’t like I’d gone out of my way to see him.
I waved and called out, “Jack!” I ran across the street to stand in front of him, smiling at him with delight. My whole day had just improved. “What are you doing down here? I’m helping my uncle at the soup kitchen.” Finally an activity I could explain. “And they need supplies so I’m going to the grocery store…” Gradually I noticed Jack was staring at me, not with pleasure, but as if he wished me gone. I took a long look at him, confused. He was wearing blue pants and a blue collared shirt with Portland PD stitched on it. The outfit was so different from his standard jeans, T-shirt and hoodie that I experienced a sense of dislocation for just a moment. Who was this guy? Where was my scruffy, one-time boyfriend?
“Fitzhugh.” One of the policemen spoke sternly, and Jack stiffened.
He gave me a guilty look for no reason I could discern. “Sir, this is a friend of mine. She didn’t know I am in the cadet program.” He shot me a frown. “So she didn’t know she was interrupting an investigation.”
“What? What cadet program? What are you talking about, Jack?” A faint buzzing started in the back of my head like something was trying to get my attention.
With a glance at the policemen, who nodded, Jack took my arm and led me away from the runner/cyclist argument. He faced me and said, “After the bank robbery, I was so mad at myself for not knowing what to do, how to help…” He trailed off for a moment before finishing, “So I found out about the police cadet program.”
The Supernormal Legacy (Book 1): Dormant Page 19