by Marilyn Kaye
"There you are!" Tracey declared triumphantly.
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"You escape, and you run for help. The rest of us go through with the robbery, but when Clare takes off in the SUV with us and the money, there's a roadblock and a dozen police cars to stop the car at the corner!"
Amanda-Sarah looked at her in surprise. "Are you having visions now, too?"
"No, I'm just being logical. This explains everything!" She turned to Emily. "What do you think?"
Emily could actually feel the dark cloud of depression begin to lift. "You're right. Madame said I had to learn how to interpret my visions instead of just taking them literally. This is a perfect example. I had a very clear vision of a successful bank robbery, with all of us playing our parts. But none of us wants to commit a bank robbery."
Amanda-Sarah glanced at Martin. "I'm not so sure about him."
Tracey disagreed. "I don't think Martin really wants to be a criminal. He just thinks it would be exciting, like a video game. In the real world, he'd be scared out of his mind."
"Anyway," Emily went on, "it's all starting to
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make sense now. But there's still something we have to figure out." Now she directed her attention toward Martin. "How are we going to get him to throw the sofa?"
The three of them studied the small, thin boy. Oblivious to their interest, Martin's eyes remained glued to the screen while his thumbs tapped rapidly on the controller. The girls considered various options quietly and came to an agreement.
Recalling what had happened in her vision, Emily rose from the sofa and stationed herself beside the door. Amanda-Sarah also got off the sofa and then went to the opposite end of the room, where she positioned herself just behind Martin.
Tracey, the only one remaining on the sofa, spoke. "Martin, aren't you ever going to stop playing video games?"
"I like video games," Martin said. "Maybe someone else would like to play that game," Tracey said.
"Too bad," Martin said.
Amanda-Sarah moved quickly. She leaned over
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Martin's shoulder and snatched the controller out of his hand.
"Hey!" Martin cried in outrage.
"Too bad for you, Martin," Amanda-Sarah sang.
Martin jumped up. Amanda-Sarah held the controller high over her head. Martin, who came up only as far as her shoulders, hopped up and down, trying to get it.
Amanda-Sarah laughed. "Give up, Martin. You'll never be tall enough to reach this.
"Give it back!" Martin yelled.
"Does itty-bitty Martin want his toy?" Amanda-Sarah said. "Maybe Emily will give it to you." She tossed the controller across the room, and Emily caught it.
It wasn't as easy for her to tease and ridicule Martin--she just didn't have Amanda's natural gift for meanness. But she did her best.
"Come and get it, Martin, if you can." She waved the controller in the air. "What's the matter? Are you scared of me?"
Martin ran over to her. When he was within a
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foot of reaching her, she threw the device back to Amanda-Sarah.
Once again, Amanda-Sarah taunted him by holding it too high. By now, Martin was shrieking, and his face was red.
"Here, Martin," Amanda-Sarah said, extending the controller in his direction. But as he reached out for it, she threw it to Tracey on the sofa.
Tracey held the controller. "Martin, I'm not moving. You can come right over here and take it out of my hand."
Martin raced over to the sofa. But just as he reached Tracey, she disappeared. And since she was holding the controller, it vanished along with her.
"Come back!" Martin screamed.
She did. He reached. She disappeared again.
Emily recalled her vision of Tracey blinking on and off like a Christmas tree light. And here it was, happening in real life--another accurate vision!
Martin's screams were louder now, and Emily wasn't surprised to see George and Clare run into the living room. She was a little worried though. Would she be able to get out the door before they
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came after her? Could Tracey and Amanda-Sarah block them to give her some extra time?
Martin was completely frustrated now. He'd been teased to his limit, and he responded just as the girls had assumed he would. In a rage, he grabbed one end of the sofa and lifted it. He raised the large piece of furniture in the air over his head and leaned back as if to give himself the momentum to throw it. Emily tensed up and prepared herself to move. And then . . .
Martin let out a high-pitched squeal. So did Amanda-Sarah. And Emily saw why. A little gray mouse raced across the baseboard and disappeared into a little hole. It must have startled Martin so deeply that he forgot about being teased.
Which meant he lost his superstrength. The sofa dropped to the ground with a thud. There was no open door for Emily to run through. She'd screwed up the vision again.
At least Clare and George were impressed. "Martin, you are strong!" Claire exclaimed.
Once again the woman had changed her look. Now she looked like she could be a celebrity,
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a singer or an actress. Her hair was blond again, but this time it was long and big, all curls, very glamorous. Dangling gems hung from her ears and she wore a tight, sparkly red dress and stiletto heels. Amanda-Sarah gasped.
"Ooh, you look hot!" she exclaimed.
It was hard to read any expression in those transparent eyes, but Emily could have sworn the woman was pleased. "Do you think so?" she asked.
"Absolutely!" Amanda-Sarah said. "I love that dress. In my opinion, this is definitely your best look."
Emily and Tracey exchanged looks. This was so Amanda--Clare could be pure evil, and Amanda would still be impressed by her style.
Or maybe Amanda was faking her admiration, trying to buddy up with Clare so that Clare would trust her, and then she would use that trust to help her classmates. For the zillionth time, Emily wished Jenna was there. A mind reader would be so useful-- much more useful than a second-rate fortuneteller like her.
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"Red is your color," Amanda continued, but now Clare had turned her attention back to Martin.
"Was it easy for you to lift the sofa?"
Martin looked smug. "No sweat. It wasn't even heavy. I could have tossed it across the room."
George was clearly intrigued. "And you don't have to do anything to prepare yourself? Go into a trance or chant something?"
"No," Martin said nonchalantly. "I'm just your run-of-the-mill superhero."
"Bull," Amanda-Sarah muttered. Clare heard her.
"What are you saying, Sarah?"
"He can't just snap his fingers and turn into Superman."
"Amanda!" Tracey hissed. "I mean, Sarah!"
But as usual, Amanda was too caught up in her own announcement to catch the warning.
"He's acting like he can just turn it on and off. He has to be teased first until he's ready to cry, and then he gets the power."
"Interesting," Clare said. "All right, I think it's about time to get started."
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"We're going to rob a bank now?" Tracey asked in dismay.
"No, not right this minute," Clare said. "We're going to have a little rehearsal first. I assume that in the past you've all used your gifts independently, to serve your own purposes. But to my knowledge, you have never worked together as a team, combining your gifts to achieve one common goal."
"How do you know that?" Tracey asked in bewilderment. "We've never seen you before--not until we were brought here."
Clare looked at her coolly. "But we've known about you for some time now, Tracey. And we know what you've all been up to."
Emily felt sick. This could only mean one thing-- there was a spy among them, in their class. Charles? That could explain why he hadn't been brought here. Maybe he was already a member of this criminal team.
Then another candidate came to mind, one that made her fe
el even sicker. Madame ... She knew them better than anyone. The students confided in her. She knew their strengths and weaknesses. She'd
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always claimed to be on their side. Was it possible they'd all been fooled? Had Madame betrayed them to these people?
She had no opportunity to envision Madame's future.
"Let's begin our rehearsal," Clare said. "Howard!"
The chubby guy hurried into the room. He was rubbing his hands together in delight. "Are we going to practice now? Can I play the bank manager?"
"Yes, all right," Clare said, but Emily didn't miss the look of scorn that flashed across her face. Clearly Clare didn't have much respect for Howard. So why was he on her team?
Clare indicated the sofa. "This will serve as the bank counter. The bookcase is the bank entrance. Tracey, Martin, Sarah, go and wait in front of the bookcase. Emily, where will the security guard be standing?"
Emily just glared at her. Clare sighed.
"Sarah, make Emily tell us where the guard will be standing."
By this time, Amanda might very well be able to do that, Emily thought. And who knows what else.
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"Okay, okay, I'll tell you. He's next to the door."
Clare eyed her keenly. "You could be lying, I suppose. Well, it doesn't matter--the guard will be in uniform. Sarah, you shouldn't have any problem identifying him. George, stand over there and be the guard. Now, Tracey, Martin, and Sarah will enter together, but Tracey will be invisible. Tracey, disappear."
"Now?" Tracey asked.
"We only have time for one rehearsal," Clare said. "We need to cover everything. Disappear."
Tracey folded her arms across her chest. "What if I don't want to?"
"Then I'll order Sarah to make you disappear."
"What if Sarah refuses?" Tracey asked.
If Clare had seemed cold before, this was nothing compared to the way she looked at Tracey right that minute. It was as if icicles were shooting out of her eyes.
"Haven't you wondered where Emily is going to be while all this is going on? She'll be waiting in the car with me. And I will be armed. Do you see where this is going?"
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Emily's stomach turned over. So she'd been right. This was what her mind had refused to show her. They'd hold her hostage to ensure that the others would do what they were supposed to do.
Clearly Tracey got the message, too. She faded away. Clare spoke to the empty space where Tracey had been. "And don't even think about trying to do something now either. Your friends will suffer for it."
She turned to Martin. "Martin, go to the bank counter. If there's a line, take your place in it. Don't go to the front. You mustn't draw attention to yourself. Sarah, stand behind Martin. From there, you can see the guard and the tellers at the counter."
"Why do I have to be able to see the tellers?" Amanda-Sarah asked. "I thought I only had to stop the guard from reacting."
"The tellers have alarm buttons under their side of the counter," Clare told her. "They can't be given any time to press the button and alert the police. You'll need to stop them as well as stop the guard. You can do that, can't you?"
"I ... I don't know. I've never tried doing two things at once."
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"Well, that's why we're having a rehearsal--to make sure you can," Clare said. She went over to the sofa and dragged one of the small end tables behind it. "We'll call this the door to the vault. Tracey, go behind the counter and stand by it so you can follow the first person who goes through."
Even though she couldn't see her, Emily assumed that Tracey was doing as she was told. She was too good a friend to risk Emily's life.
"Now we're all in place. The first thing that has to happen is that someone goes into the vault. It could be one of the tellers or the bank manager. Howard, you do it."
Howard took some keys from his pocket, jingled them in his hand, and spoke to an imaginary companion.
"Yes, of course, Mrs. Montague, we can get your diamond necklace out of your safe-deposit box. Come with me, please." He walked slowly toward the sofa and continued talking to his pretend client. "And may I ask where you will be wearing that lovely necklace? Ah, the opera! How very nice."
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Clare looked at him with undisguised contempt. "Howard, we don't have much time."
Howard quickened his pace. Behind the sofa, he twisted the key as if he was putting it into a lock.
"Get right beside him, Tracey," Clare said. "Stay with him as he goes inside."
Howard acted as if he was opening a door. He made a big show of standing aside to allow the invisible Mrs. Montague to precede him, and presumably the invisible Tracey went through, too. He walked a few more steps and then made the movements of turning a combination dial.
"Watch this carefully, Tracey," Clare said. "You have to be able to remember the numbers. Now, Howard, leave the vault. Tracey, stay where you are."
Howard obeyed, once again pretending to open the door for the lady and locking it behind her. Clare's eyes remained on the position behind the sofa.
"Tracey, show yourself," she demanded sharply.
Emily held her breath. What if Tracey had run off in search of a weapon to combat the crooks? But she'd been right to assume that Tracey wouldn't risk
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being disobedient. Tracey reappeared, right where she was supposed to be.
"Very good," Clare said. "Now, Martin, this is your big moment. You're at the front of the line, facing the teller. I'll play the teller." They took their positions, and Clare continued.
"We want the teller to make you angry, so you'll be strong enough to break down the locked door leading to the vault. You'll have to create the right atmosphere so she'll upset you. Do you understand me?"
It was obvious Martin didn't have a clue. "Huh?"
Clare frowned. George approached her. "Actually, considering what we just saw, it might not be a good idea to practice teasing. You don't want him breaking any doors down in here."
Clare considered this. "But he needs to see what he has to do."
"I'll play his part," George offered, and Clare agreed. They held a brief, whispered conversation, and then Clare turned back to Martin.
"Martin, you have to watch very carefully and remember what George says. All right, George,
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you're Martin. What is the first thing you say to me, the teller?"
"I'd like some money, please," George said.
"Do you have a check you want to cash?" Clare asked.
"No."
"Do you have a debit card and a PIN?" "No."
"Do you have a checking account or savings account at this bank?" "No."
Clare shook her head. "I'm sorry, young man. You're not eligible to withdraw money here."
"But I want some," George said. "I want a million dollars. Right now."
Now Clare produced an artificial and condescending smile. "Don't we all. But that's not how the banking system operates."
"Please can I have some money? Pretty please?"
"I'm sorry, no. Now please step aside and let me help the next customer." Looking toward Martin, she said, "This is when you start crying."
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George wasn't much of an actor. "Boo hoo," he said flatly. "Boo hoo. Give me some money."
"Now, Sarah, you start teasing him."
"Get out of the way! You're holding everyone up. What kind of idiot doesn't understand how a bank works?" Amanda-Sarah scoffed.
"Will that be enough to make you get strong, Martin?" Clare asked.
Martin actually looked offended. "I can call on my superpowers whenever I want!"
Amanda-Sarah piped up. "If it's not enough, I can do more. I'm good at annoying him--I can get him to explode."
Does she have to he so cooperative? Emily thought. Knowing Amanda, she was probably just relieved Emily was going to be the hostage instead of her. Amanda didn't care about anyone but herself, but Emily never would
have thought she could sink so low ... Could Amanda be the traitor among them? There were so many possible spies. Emily hadn't thought her spirits could go any lower, but now they were plummeting to depths she'd never before experienced, and that dark cloud enveloped her
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completely. She didn't even need to drum up a vision to know that they were all doomed.
The rehearsal continued. George went back to playing the guard, and Martin took over his own role. He made a big production out of breaking down an imaginary door, even adding sound effects.
"Emily, you stand in for the guard," Clare ordered. "Sarah, make her unable to move."
"Sure thing," Amanda-Sarah said. She fixed a wide-eyed stare in Emily's direction.
Emily tensed up, expecting some sort of cold tingle to creep over her as her body froze up. But nothing happened. She knew she could have moved if she'd wanted to.
So Amanda hadn't absorbed any more of Sarah's powers--not yet, at least. But Emily wasn't going to point that out. She stood very still and held her breath.
Clare gave a short nod. "That will be all. We'll leave for the bank at six o'clock."
"Banks aren't open at six o'clock," Tracey said.
"Northwest National is open till seven one night a week," Clare informed her. "Which happens to be
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tonight. Tracey, come with me. I want to teach you some tips on memorizing numbers. If any of you are hungry, there are cookies on the dining room table."
Emily watched as the adults and her classmates went into the dining room. She wasn't hungry, and there was another reason she wanted to be alone. She could feel the tears burning behind her eyes, and she didn't want them to see her cry.
It was going to happen just as she envisioned it. Well, at least now she knew she was really capable of seeing the future. But it wasn't much comfort. In one and a half hours, she'd be forced to rob a bank, and there wasn't anything she could do about it.They wouldn't be hurt--they were much too valuable to Clare. They'd just become lifetime criminals.
Amanda-Sarah came back into the room. Hastily Emily wiped her eyes, but it wasn't necessary---the body snatcher barely glanced at her.
"Have you seen my watch? I mean, Sarah's watch. I took it off around here somewhere."