by Pam Eaton
I subconsciously flatten my hair with my palm. “That’s, well, kind of crazy, but cool. I have a question, though. If Tony and I are to train together, how is he not going to learn about what I can do?”
Gregory rubs his forehead. “You won’t be exactly training side by side at first. As we get closer to the mission, things will change, but right now we need you to work on yourselves. You’ll exercise together, but that’ll be the extent.”
“Well, when do we start training?”
“Tomorrow,” Ania pipes in.
Seventeen
Ania waits for me on the front porch with her running shoes on. “There’s a path that leads through the woods and into a clearing about a mile from here. I thought we could jog out there.”
I’ve always enjoyed running. When I would run in the woods for cross country, it was a place for me to clear my head and focus my thoughts. It’s more mental at times than physical, and if you can master that, you can run far. In the past, I mostly thought about winning the race, but now as I examine my surroundings, I find myself thinking about our current situation. About Tony.
He’s super charismatic, funny, observant, and charmingly arrogant. There’s a likable, trusting quality about him. I don’t like hiding my power from him, but wouldn’t he be able to see us training? “Ania, if Tony has this amazing eyesight, can’t he just look out the window and see what we’re doing?”
“Luckily, Gregory and I have concocted a schedule that will keep Tony working in the basement while you’re outside and vice versa. He won’t be able to see what’s going on.”
“Why can’t he know? And why aren’t you telling him about the missing agents?”
“You’re rare, and your power being different from your mother would scare most of us. We need to make sure that no one really knows that. When we’re completely sure that we can trust Tony, he’ll know about you. Don’t forget that we still need to figure out exactly how your powers work.
“And as far as the missing agents, that’s up to Mr. Smith. I’d tell him, but I’m under orders not to.”
I don’t like being left out of the loop. Ania and Gregory keep talking about this mission and the importance of its success, but I’m tired of being confused. I wish they would tell us already if we’re going to rob a bank, steal plans for a nuclear bomb, or break into a building. Does it have to do with saving people? What is it?
The woods stretch out ahead of us. We follow a trail from the animals that lurk out here. The woods don’t scare me now like they did yesterday, but they’re still foreign. We wind through the trees, enjoying the crisp air. The only sounds, aside from us, are birds, the wind rustling the leaves, and the stillness it all brings. We’ve got to be miles from any other house or town.
After we reach the clearing, we stretch our legs and arms. My muscles protest from the constant worrying, not to mention the constant nightmares. Ania claps her hands together, bringing me out of the haze in my mind.
“Today’s going to be a little different. I know you’ve been told that I’m like a killing machine, but there’s something else I’ve found that I think will benefit you too. Now don’t laugh, but we’re going to do some yoga and some trust exercises.
“I think that when you ‘flicker’ or end up in another place, it’s your emotions determining the effectiveness of that. You need to learn how to control your emotions and use them to your advantage.”
I laugh. I was ready to come back to the cabin bruised and maybe a little bloody. “I never thought we would be doing yoga together.”
She smiles and in a dramatic voice says, “You’re going to feel mother earth flow through your legs and calm your soul.”
I raise my eyebrow at her comment. “Really? Are we going to start chanting and dancing around a fire naked?”
We both laugh as we bend and stretch into different poses. My body needs this most of all. Apparently, nothing stretches you out like yoga.
After twenty minutes of contorting my body in ways I didn’t think possible, we end up sitting across from each other on the ground. “Can I ask you something?” I ask.
She gives me a sincere smile. “Yeah. I’ll do my best to answer.”
I run my fingers through the weeds and grass surrounding us, not meeting her eyes. “Do you ever think about having a family?”
For a minute, she doesn’t speak. And when I finally raise my eyes, she’s looking into the trees, seeing something unseen. I must have touched on a nerve, but she doesn’t wear a ring and she’s old enough to be married. “I actually have a daughter. I never get to see her, of course— part of the job, unfortunately. A couple years after my mom died and my dad and I were living in America, I rebelled, a lot. I ran around with tons of boys, did things I was too young to do, and got pregnant. She lives with my dad. I never planned on having a family, even though Mr. Smith encourages it, but things changed.”
She has a daughter? Whoa, didn’t see that coming. “Why didn’t you want a family? And how old are you?”
Her gaze stays fixed out in the woods. “Thirty.” She says it almost absently. “Watching your mom be executed for treason changes you. I’m skilled in fighting and when I die, my daughter will be as well. It’s not a glorious life. It’s a dangerous one. I didn’t want to pass that on.”
I haven’t given that much thought. I tend to agree with her, though. Do I really want my children to experience what I am experiencing? Maybe if my mother had prepared me more, this transition would have been smoother. Ania’s powers are different from mine and a lot more dangerous.
“Did you know that I knew your mother?” she asks.
My face snaps toward hers. She knew my mom? I’m not surprised, though; it seems everyone knew her besides me. “No.”
“Your mom was a friend and a mentor to me right when I got to the states. After my mom died and we found out I was pregnant, I was so angry, such a hateful young girl. She came to me and helped pull me from that. She was so funny, had such a contagious smile.”
A soft look takes over her face. “She was devoted to me, and I’m so grateful to have had her. I hope I can have the same influence on you as she had on me. As angry as you have been with her all these years, she did love you and your dad fiercely. The day she found out that she was pregnant, her excitement poured out of her in waves. She told everyone she saw. I truly believe that she left you with your grandparents because she thought that was best for you.”
Doesn’t matter what she thought was best; you can’t replace a mother or a father. How could she have been so devoted to one of her trainees, but not to her own flesh and blood? Drugs or not, she should have fought for a role in my life. But now with finding out she was sober for a year and carried a picture me around, things aren’t adding up.
“Have you talked to her since she left?” I ask, because maybe she knows more.
Her gaze moves to the trees. “It’s been a while. I talked with her a lot after your dad died, but that tapered off real quick.”
Maybe she left me because she couldn’t bear to look at me and be reminded of my dad. “Did you know my dad?”
“I knew him because of the FBI, but not as well as Linda.”
“Something’s been bugging me ever since I found out about where my parents met. What was my father doing at Project Lightning?”
She turns her head away, hiding her face. “I think the only one who could answer that question is Mr. Smith. I know your dad helped in coordinating missions, but I don’t know how he got there or why.”
She stands up and reaches out a hand to help me. I grab it and look into her eyes. I hope she’s being truthful. But I’ve carried this anger and resentment for my mom all these years. She abandoned me and never bothered to help me know her or my father. I needed her to talk to me about boys, makeup and other things. Yes, I had my grandmother, but it wasn’t the same. “Do you think you’re doing the right thing for your daughter?” I ask her with some hesitancy.
She inhales sharply.
Her eyes fixate on our shoes and her hands clench into fists. She takes a deep breath and relaxes her hands. “I don’t know, but I’m trying to do the best for her I can. Let’s head back to the cabin,” she says, ending the conversation.
I don’t know Ania well, but I definitely hit a nerve. And now I need a topic change. “So, uh, Tony’s kind of cute, don’t you think?”
What just came out of my mouth?
She lets out a small chuckle. “I guess he’s not bad looking. A little too young for me though, and very arrogant. Besides, I thought you had a thing for Gregory?”
I blush. “I won’t lie. I like him a lot— well, what I know of him. I haven’t forgotten what you said about mixing work and pleasure, but I can’t help being attracted to him.”
“Just keep your guard up. I don’t want to lecture you, but it’s frowned upon to try to have relationships with one another. It’s one thing to have a little fun, but it’s another to fall head over heels for someone.”
Does she know how attracted I am to him? Do I know how I feel about him? Does he? He probably dismisses it as a schoolgirl’s crush, but there’s something fascinating about him. I wonder what sort of training I’ll be doing with him. I was surprised that Ania and I did yoga. I really thought that she’d be teaching me how to kill someone with my pinky. I may not be a killing machine like she is, but I am definitely far from being a delicate little flower.
As we leave the clearing for the cabin, my thoughts drift. I wonder what my grandpa Joe is doing. Has he been thinking about me or worrying about me? I haven’t even been able to talk to him since I began this “internship.” I shudder at the reminder of last night, when I woke up in the middle of another terrifying nightmare.
When I awoke, I closed my eyes, desperately wishing to be home. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my room at home, but it felt like a dream. I swore it was a dream. All of my trophies and awards, pictures with my grandparents, and stuffed animals were all around me. I dragged my fingers across the top of my dresser and walked toward the door. The house was dark and quiet, but I could hear the faint sound of the television below. I descended the stairs, feeling the soft pine railing under my palm as I went. As I walked to the living room, I saw him, Grandpa Joe, asleep in his recliner. I turned off the television and grabbed the afghan from the couch and draped it over him. Just as I was about to go back to bed, I felt his hand on mine. “Becca?”
That’s when I realized that I wasn’t dreaming. I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. Before I knew it, I was back in my bed at the cabin.
The shrill sound of a bird whistle brings me back to the forest with Ania. When we’re a few yards from the front porch, voices drift through an open window.
We walk into the cabin and Gregory and Tony are sitting in the living room. They look like they’re having a polite conversation, but you could cut the tension with a knife. The sight of Ania and me causes both of them to rise to their feet. “Good, I’m glad you two are back. Becca, I’m going to work with you down in the basement, and Ania, I was hoping you would work with Tony on hand-to-hand combat?” Gregory asks.
There’s no complaint from her lips. It’s not like she did anything with me but a warm up. She grabs a water bottle, and soon she and Tony are out the door.
Gregory ushers me down the steps into the basement. I haven’t actually gone down here yet, and I was expecting it to be a dark, dank place, but I can see I was wrong. It’s been finished with new furniture just like the rest of the house. The walls are painted a light yellow and the carpets are a cream color. It doesn’t feel like a basement. He sits on a couch and I opt for a lounge chair across from him.
“Did you enjoy yoga with Ania?” he asks, laughter in his voice.
“I’m pretty sure my muscles aren’t going to work tomorrow,” I tell him.
He laughs. “It’ll get better. The first time she had me do it, I totally split my shorts trying to do some of those moves.”
I start laughing, and a snort slips out. And for a beat it’s complete silence until he can’t hold it in anymore. He bends over in his chair, loud laughs tumbling out of his mouth. “You just…” He can’t even get the words out.
But I laugh right along with him. “I know! It’s mortifying,” I say.
He takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his laughter. “Nah, it’s cute,” he says.
I lean over and smack him on the arm. “Liar,” I tell him.
“Not lying,” he says, and I know I’m blushing now.
We both sit back in our seats. “All right, so today, I want you to try transporting to another room here in the house, like your bedroom, and then back down here. Sound good?”
“Sure,” I say, and then take a deep breath. I got this. At least the pant-splitting and the snorting took away any anxiety.
But that soon comes rushing back, because my first few attempts are frustrating. I think about my bedroom and squeeze my eyes tight. When I open them back up, I see Gregory looking at me with a sad expression. This should be amazing because I could go anywhere I want, but it’s turning out to be frustrating. After the sixth time of unsuccessful transporting, I’m close to picking up a lamp and chucking it. I pace back and forth, trying to ignore Gregory.
“Becca, you need to relax.”
I shoot him a frustrated look. Like I don’t know that. I’d like to see him try and do this. And I want this, even if it seems like I don’t. I’m more frustrated with myself then anything else.
We work, I swear for hours, on manipulating emotions. I finally flicker in the chair, but that’s about it. Apparently he can sense my frustration and tries another approach. He stands behind my chair and rests his hands on my shoulders, instructing me how to breathe and relax. It’s hard at first to relax with his hands on me. He rubs my shoulders, his thumbs circling at the base of my neck, and I can slowly feel my body submit. I try to focus on my room in the cabin.
I close my eyes and picture it perfectly in my mind. I visualize the curve of my head board, the pattern of the fabric on the window seat, and the way my dresser appears to be so empty. I focus on the window seat. I enjoyed that so much yesterday.
I open my eyes and I’m sitting on my bed. Success. And seriously, how amazing is this? A wave of exhaustion and confidence washes over me, sending me all the way back to the basement. I jump up and throw my arms around Gregory. He freezes for a moment, but he doesn’t push me away and lets me hug him as long I want. “You did it,” he whispers into my ear, and I swear he tightens his arms just a little bit more.
Eighteen
Three long, frustrating weeks have gone by, full of constant training at the cabin. Frustrating because I’m not any better at my powers. And some days being stuck here has turned this cabin into my own personal hell. And some days Gregory is my savior, but today he’s my own personal warden.
He runs his hands through his hair, probably for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes of being in the basement. He closes his eyes and his mouth instantly grimaces. “This isn’t working,” I tell him, again.
He drops his hands and lays them flat on the coffee table in front of us. “No. We’ll figure this out.”
Well, at least he’s sure, because I’m not. Last week I ended up transporting myself into the bathroom. Which would have been fine, but one of my feet ended up in the toilet. It was lovely. I burned those socks.
“Okay. Let’s take a deep breath.” Already tried that. “And imagine the kitchen.” Doable.
“Kitchen. Got it,” I say.
“Becca,” he says, completely exasperated.
I raise my hands in surrender. “Fine, fine.”
I chant the word kitchen in my mind.
“What the hell?” Tony shouts.
I open my eyes. Huh, pantry.
Tony stands in the open doorway, rubbing at his chest. “Did I scare you?” I ask.
He stares at me for a moment. “Uh, yeah. What are you hiding from?”
Internally, I’m
thanking whoever is listening, because he didn’t see me magically appear in front of his eyes. “Just felt like hanging out with the cereal,” I say, patting a box of Cheerios.
He crosses his arms, totally not believing a word coming from my mouth. I let out a big huff. “Fine. Just wanted a little alone time.” I kind of feel bad for lying, but what else am I going to say?
“Want some?” I ask, holding up the box of cereal.
He shakes his head and laughs at me.
“Becca?” I hear Gregory calling for me.
“In here!” I yell.
His face appears over Tony’s shoulder. “Close,” he says, but more to himself than either of us.
“Well, I’m going to head to the grocery store. Need anything?” Gregory asks. Guess training is done for the day. I look outside at the dark sky. I guess it is kind of late anyways.
“Can I come with?” I ask.
Any time I ask about getting away from here, I’m always told that it would be unsafe, but of course it’s okay for Gregory to go to the grocery store. I’m an only child, and it’s sad to admit, but I’m used to getting my way.
“You know you can’t,” he tells me.
Whatever. This is lame.
“Fine,” I say.
He stares at me for a moment longer. Probably because when a woman says fine, she is anything but. He turns and walks away.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Don’t need anything. Thanks for asking,” Tony yells at Gregory.
The front door slams. Tony turns back to me and rolls his eyes. He opens his mouth, probably to complain about Gregory, but I throw up a hand to stop him. There’s something more important on my mind.
It’s time to break out of this prison. The only one probably willing to do this with me might be Tony. If his constant comments about cabin fever are any indication, he’s been itching to leave too. And I get that some of the hundred are being kidnapped, and that should make me want to be cautious. But no one knows we’re here.