Rerun has apparently come to the same conclusion, because time suddenly starts running backwards. It’s difficult to describe the sensation if you’re close to him when this happens, because you can actually see things moving in reverse. It’s very disconcerting, especially when you’re not expecting it. If you’re not close to him, you have no idea that time has just been magically rewound.
Unfortunately, Rerun is only able to reverse time for about thirty seconds this morning, back to when the Seals have already begun to emerge from the water. The net is still in place—there’s no chance for the mermaids to make a swim for it.
“Sorry,” Rerun says. “That’s as far back as I could manage over so big an area.”
The Seals have no idea what he’s talking about, nor do my friends on the other side of my mother, who were too far away from Rerun to see time move backwards. His attempt has bought me another half minute, though, and I’m determined to make use of it. I edge over to Plush, who is just on the other side of Radar from me, and whisper in her ear. She nods in understanding.
I turn to Selene. “Get ready,” I say softly.
Selene’s brow furrows in confusion, but she nods. The three mermaids duck their heads underwater, communicating among themselves, I’m sure. A moment later their heads pop back up and I squeeze Plush’s shoulder, signaling her to begin.
Plush focuses her gaze on a gap between two men right in the center of the line of Seals. I can see the concentration etched onto her face as she puts her Power into play. Lifted by Plush’s thoughts, the heavy rope between the two wetsuit clad men begins to rise as if pulled upward by invisible threads, bringing the net up off the ocean bottom with it.
“Go!” I shout to Selene.
The mermaids need no further incentive. Like a shot, they speed toward the gap, their powerful tail fins whipping back and forth. Before the Seals can react, the mermaids swim under the net and out into the open sea. In a moment, they are gone, like they never existed. There’s no way the Seals can hope to follow them.
“Nice job,” I tell Plush as the net falls back into place with a loud splash.
She smiles at me.
Captain Harper lets go of his hold on the now useless net and wades toward us, stopping in front of my dad.
“No hard feelings, I hope,” the captain says.
My dad shakes his head. “You were just following orders.”
Captain Harper smiles. “Just between you and me, I’m glad they got away.”
“Me, too,” Dad says. “I just wish you had arrived a few moments later. They were right in the middle of warning us about something. Now we’ll never know what it was.”
Dad is right. I doubt the mermaids will expose themselves like this again. Saddened, I turn and trudge back toward the shore, followed by my companions. I’m pretty sure we won’t be seeing Selene and her sisters again.
CHAPTER 7
THAT SAME EVENING, we gather around the table in my house again, everyone sitting in the same place they were yesterday. The feel of this gathering is different though, heavier and more portentous. The flickering candlelight illuminating the room only adds to the gravity of the atmosphere.
My dad headed straight to headquarters as soon as we left the beach this morning, reporting back to the Command Council. He was there all day, only returning about ten minutes ago. When he got back, he spent a few minutes talking privately with Mom before joining us at the table.
The Miracles have been here for almost an hour now, rehashing what happened this morning. We all have misgivings—some more than others—but we’ve all decided we need to go to Alcatraz. It’s not up to us, though. We’re just seven teenagers—there’s no way we can get there without help from the military. Even with help, none of us really knows if such a journey is possible. We’ve spent our entire lives inside the barriers of our District. None of us has ever been Outside, not once. We’ve all heard the stories of lawless gangs and horrible monsters that populate the Outside, though, and we’ve all seen glimpses at least of the creatures that come through the Anomalies. So we’re really anxious to hear what Dad has to say. From the look on Mom’s face, she’s not very happy with what he told her.
Dad takes a moment to study our faces, one by one, ending with me. From the determined but worried look in his eyes, I’m pretty sure I know what the Council’s decision is. What I need to know now is how in hell are we going to cover the five hundred danger-filled miles between here and San Francisco?
“The Council has decided there’s enough merit in the mermaid’s warning that we need to try to get you all to Alcatraz,” my dad begins. “Because of your age, they will not order any of you to go. You each have to volunteer.”
His gaze fastens on me again. I’m pretty sure he’s hoping I won’t volunteer, maybe because I don’t have a Power. I’m also pretty sure he knows I would never let my friends go on such an undertaking without me, Power or no Power.
“We’ve all talked about it already, Dad,” I say, meeting his eyes with a determined look of my own. “We’ve all decided to go. So that’s settled.”
“What we need to know,” Radar says, “is how in freaking hell you’re going to get us there?”
The barest hint of a smile curves the corner of Dad’s mouth. Radar has that effect on pretty much everyone.
“That was the subject of much discussion this afternoon,” Dad replies. “There was talk of using a couple of the transport trucks the military has maintained, or even flying in helicopters, but it was decided the risk of generating Anomalies was too great. A Marine platoon could probably get there on foot in time to arrive by the necessary date—if it wasn’t delayed by too much fighting—but I doubt any of you kids could manage that pace.” He smiles. “Someone suggested carrying you on our backs like extra-large packs, but we decided that wasn’t really feasible.”
“I’m glad someone had the good sense to nix that idea,” Sneak says.
“I wouldn’t mind riding there on Jordy’s back,” Radar says, grinning.
Several of us roll our eyes at her, but she just grins bigger.
“What did you decide on, then?” I ask.
“We’re going by boat,” Dad replies.
I don’t know what I was expecting to hear, but it was definitely not that. From the looks on my friends’ faces, I can see they’re all at least as surprised as me.
The only boats still in regular use are sailboats, whose electrical systems have been permanently disabled to avoid triggering Anomalies. The boats are used mostly for fishing the bay and nearby coastal waters. My mom and dad say that before The Incident, people used to sail simply for pleasure, but that was a long time ago, when the world was a very different place. The boats I’ve seen out on the water have all been pretty small—I can’t imagine sailing on any of them all the way to San Francisco, but since I’ve never been on a boat in my life, I’ve really got nothing to judge the soundness of the plan by.
“For real?” Sneak says. His father has spent time as a fisherman, and Sneak is the only one of us Miracles who’s ever sailed, as far as I know. “That’s a pretty long trip for any of our fishing boats,” he adds, “especially this time of year, when like as not we could run into a storm out of the north.”
“You’re right on both counts,” my dad replies. “That’s why we’re taking the Star of India.”
I can feel my eyes pop open wide. Looking around the table, I can see I’m not the only one wearing a stunned expression. The Star of India is an almost two century old ship and is by far the biggest sailing boat I’ve ever seen—over two hundred feet long with three towering masts. Back before The Incident, the ship had been maintained as a floating museum that took sail out onto the open water once or twice a year. When it became clear that motorized ships were too dangerous to use, the Navy made sure it continued to maintain the vessel, in case a boat its size was ever needed. I guess that time has come.
“Totally cool,” Sneak says. “That’s gonna be awesome!”
“I’m glad you approve,” Dad says with a wry smile.
“You said ‘we’—does that mean you’re coming with us?” I ask.
Dad’s smile widens. “You don’t think I’d let my only daughter go gallivanting off on a mission like this without coming along to keep an eye on you, do you? I’ll be leading a company of Marines. We’ll be asking for volunteers, but since these are Marines, we’ll have way more volunteers than the forty we need.”
“Jordy will certainly volunteer,” Radar says. “Can you pull some strings, Colonel Gallway, to make sure he gets picked? Pretty please?”
“Of course, Kristin.” My dad grins at Radar. “I wouldn’t want to try stopping Jordy if he wasn’t chosen.”
Radar’s positively beaming now. I know she’s not thinking at all about the many dangers we could face—she’s just thinking about a long adventure with Jordy. “Thanks,” she says.
“We leave in five days,” Dad informs us. “That will give us two weeks to spare, in case things go wrong. If we get to San Francisco early, we’ll stay safely out on the water, beyond sight of land until a day or two before the anniversary. We’ll be provisioning the ship with a month’s worth of supplies.”
I was going to ask how long the voyage should take, but I can do the math—between a week and two weeks, if everything goes according to plan. I try to imagine what it will be like to be stuck on a crowded boat for up to a month, but I have absolutely nothing to compare it to.
“You’re all going to be pretty busy for the next five days,” Dad continues. “Weapons practice will be increased to five hours every day, and the rest of the day you’ll be learning everything you can about the geography between here and San Francisco, in case we’re forced to go ashore before we plan to. We don’t have much up-to-date info, of course, but you’ll be given as much information as we can provide. You’ll also be studying the layout of Alcatraz from any information we can get our hands on.”
My heart is starting to beat faster now. A long boat trip is one thing—but they’re also preparing us for traveling overland. What if we have to go ashore a hundred miles or more from our goal? I can’t even imagine trying to make our way through that much dangerous, uncharted territory. I cross my fingers below the table, praying that nothing goes awry with our sea journey.
CHAPTER 8
THE FIVE DAYS OF PREPARATION FLY BY. As my dad had said, we all spend half of every day practicing with our weapons. Most of it is with swords or machetes, with lesser periods devoted to knife fighting. We also spend time shooting hand guns and automatic rifles. While none of us seven is anywhere near as capable as the rawest Marine recruit with any of these weapons, at least we may have a fighting chance to survive in a pinch.
The rest of our time has been devoted to learning all we could about the geography between San Diego and San Francisco and about Alcatraz. While I had heard of Los Angeles and Santa Barbara, my head is now stuffed with names like Morro Bay, Hearst Castle, Big Sur and Monterey. Most of the coastal area north of Santa Barbara was wooded and hilly even before The Incident brought society crashing down. We’re assuming that by now it’s become far more wild and untamed—which is why I’m glad we plan to bypass it all traveling by sea.
The morning of our departure, I awaken early. The sun is barely up, but I can already smell the bitter aroma of satz-coff wafting in from the kitchen, telling me that my parents are already up. I dress quickly—jeans, a green long-sleeved T-shirt and sturdy ankle-high hiking boots—then run a brush through my hair. Short hair definitely has its advantages. In five minutes, I’m walking into the kitchen.
Dad is sitting at the table and Mom is standing at the gas stove. From the smell, I can tell she’s whipping up omelets. There’s a big chicken farm within the barriers, so eggs are always plentiful.
Mom likes to call the stove her “old-fashioned gas stove,” but in reality, stoves like this are the best indoor cooking appliances around nowadays. The gas comes from the District’s landfill, where naturally occurring methane gas is converted to a safer form of natural gas and then piped into several thousand homes. My mom invented the conversion process—I told you she was wicked smart.
She turns around at my entrance and smiles. “Good morning, dear. Breakfast is almost ready.”
“It smells great,” I say.
“It may be your last hot meal for a while,” Mom says. “I doubt they allow cooking fires on the boat.”
“Nope,” my dad says. “They sure don’t. It’s way too dangerous, especially with the ship being as crowded as we’re going to be.”
I sit down across from my dad and take a sip of the fresh squeezed orange juice already on the table. It’s sweet and refreshing. At least we’ll have plenty of fruit on the ship.
A few moments later, Mom places an omelet in front of me and another in front of my dad. Knowing that this is probably my last cooked meal for several weeks makes the omelet seem extra delicious.
Finally, it’s time to go. I give my mom a big hug and then watch as my parents embrace. You’d think as a Marine couple they’d be used to this, but ever since The Incident, Dad has only left the District a few times, and that was years ago. It’s touching to see how much they love each other.
Dad and I grab our packs and weapons and head out the door. The morning air is crisp and cool, but the almost cloudless blue sky tells me the day will warm up pretty quickly. Radar is standing on the sidewalk in front of our house, waiting.
“How long have you been out here?” I ask. “You could have come in and had some breakfast.”
“I just got here,” she replies. “I ate at home. Mom cooked up a big breakfast for me—last meal and all that crap.”
I smile. “Mine, too. I guess that’s what mom’s do, even genius ones like mine.”
“Here come Plush and Lights,” Radar says, looking behind me and my dad. I turn around and watch them strolling up the street hand in hand like they’re on their way to a picnic, rather than about to embark upon a journey to the end of the world. Lights is wearing jeans and a black shirt, so naturally Plush is dressed in a denim shirt and black pants.
“Good morning, guys,” Lights says cheerfully. “Everybody ready for a fun-filled cruise?”
My lips form into a half-smile. “I’m not sure ‘cruise’ is the word I would choose, but yeah, we’re ready.”
“Or we will be,” Radar says, “as soon as the others get here.”
Lights points a short distance down the other side of the street. “Speaking of the others, here come Doc and Rerun.”
Doc and Rerun live next door to each other about a block away, so it’s not a surprise to see them arriving together. I glance up the street toward Sneak’s house, but his door is still closed.
“Hey, while we wait,” Plush says, “check this out. I’ve perfected a neat new trick.”
“Cool,” Radar says. “Let’s see it.”
Plush pulls Lights closer to her. “Arm around me, handsome.”
Lights grins and wraps his arm around Plush’s back. “Anytime, gorgeous.”
We watch as the two of them begin sliding slowly up the sidewalk, joined at the hip, almost like the cement has turned to ice. What makes it especially strange is that their feet aren’t moving at all. It’s almost like the sidewalk is moving beneath them, but of course we can see that it isn’t. Plush is obviously using her telekinesis somehow, but I didn’t know she could do anything like this.
“How did you do that?” Radar asks when Plush and Lights return. “I didn’t think you could move yourself with your Power.”
“I can’t. But I can move Lights, and with him holding onto me, I move, too.”
Lights grins. “It’s a good thing she’s not very heavy.”
“Wait a second,” I say, holding up one finger. “Sneak, are you here?” I turn my head slowly from left to right. “Show yourself.”
Sneak pops up right in front of Plush. “How did you know I was here?” he asks me.
I shrug. “I’m not sure. You do this so often, I’m starting to get a feel for when you’re around.”
“Maybe she can smell you,” Plush teases.
Sneak lifts his arm and sticks his nose near his armpit. “Nah,” he says. “I showered this morning.”
“It’s not smell,” I assure him. “It’s just a feeling I get. I can’t explain it any better than that.”
“Maybe that’s your Power, Leah,” Radar says, grinning. “To know when Sneak is around. That could be a real help to the rest of us.”
“Oh, god, I hope not,” I say, making a face. “I’d like something a bit more useful than that.”
“Now that everyone’s here,” Dad says. “Let’s get a move on.” He says it in his colonel voice, which brooks no discussion. Even Sneak has no comment as we all fall into place behind my dad and begin our trek to the beach.
The Star of India is usually berthed in the harbor downtown, but to save us seven or eight miles of walking, it’s going to pick us up in pretty much the same spot where Radar and I swam with the dolphins. The few times I’ve seen the ship up close at its dock, the thing seemed huge—two thirds as long as a football field with masts the size of tree trunks that reach more than forty feet up into the sky. Now, though, anchored a couple hundred yards off the coast, it seems pitifully small for the voyage we’re about to undertake, especially since there will be nearly five dozen people crammed on board. In addition to my friends and the forty soldiers, the ship will be crewed by ten highly trained Navy sailors. To augment the crew, twenty of the Marines have spent the last five days getting a crash course on how to sail the vessel, just in case.
It’s a beautiful morning. The sky is a bright, cloudless blue, making the ocean a deep, sparkling blue as well. The oncoming breakers—not all that high, thankfully—rush toward the shore in bands of shining white foam. The wind is fairly stiff out of the northwest, making it cool down here by the water, but not cold.
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