Supernormal

by Caitlen Rubino-Bradway

  “Well, I’m sure you could if you put your mind to it. It would only be polite.”

  “That was very kind of you,” Cam cut in smoothly. “And the coffee. Thank you.”

  “It’s the least I can do for you, after all you’ve done for us,” Proom assured him, “assisting with One-Eleven the way you have.”

  Cam looked at the cup of coffee in his hand. It was very hot, and he wondered, if he threw it in Proom’s face, if it was hot enough to leave some nice burns or if it would just make a mess all over his clever little T-shirt. “You mean Ashley.”

  Proom took a sip of his coffee, and let out an impressed mmm… “We find it a little clearer to refer to subjects by their assigned numbers. Inter-departmental communication, you know. The reports on One-Eleven have been really rather promising recently,” he told Cam, lifting his mug to Dr. MacNamara in a small salute. “We’ve found them very encouraging. You know, we never looked into that—personal attachment as a means of promoting individual emotional stability. As a matter of fact, we initially recommended against it. The transition proved to be more volatile for…oh, a number of the subjects, so we thought it best to avoid strong emotions. I will thank you, Cam,” Proom added, setting his coffee cup back on the saucer with a click, “for keeping her in line.”

  “Ashley keeps herself in line,” Cam said.

  “Does she? How remarkable,” Proom said, with a smile to Dr. MacNamara. “She must be doing better than I thought. And you. How are you doing, Mr. Scott?”

  “Well, thank you,” Cam said.

  “And how are you finding Sugar Beach? Bit of a change from Savannah, I should think.”

  “Yes,” Cam said.

  “Your family is doing well,” Proom continued, and it wasn’t a question. “Your parents have decided to send Naomi to Silverleaf, in New York, for the rest of the summer. Girl has quite a good seat, I understand. Though she needs to work on her dressage.”

  This time, Dr. MacNamara put a hand on his arm. Hot coffee spilled over the rim of his mug and stung his fingers. “Yes,” Cam said.

  “It must have been very difficult for you, dealing with people like that. I’ve met a fair share myself, actually,” Proom confided. “Honestly, it’s disgusting the extent to which people will go to find excuses for their behavior. The thing to understand is that the problem is not with you—there is nothing wrong with you. The problem is that people like your parents really, truly don’t understand that what you can do is…a miracle. Of the brain. Of evolution. People like that hide behind what they know because they’re afraid of what they don’t.”

  Cam saw his arm, with the cup of coffee still clutched in his hand, pull from of the doctor’s hold, move up. Towards Proom. But then Brody was there, between the two of them. Cam’s fingers closed around empty air, and he realized the cup was in Brody’s hand, not his. Cam hadn’t even heard the door.

  “Zach,” Brody said. “We weren’t expecting you so early.”

  “My schedule cleared up,” Proom replied easily. “I decided to pop in here and had the good fortune to run into Mr. Scott and our dear Dr. Mac. We thought we’d seize the opportunity to get to know each other at little better.”

  “I’m sure you know everyone well enough,” Brody said, snagging a chair from another table and wedging it between Cam and Proom. “I don’t suppose this means you’ll be heading out of here earlier.”

  “So kind of you to ask. I had hoped to stay the night, but I must admit to having some trouble finding a place to stay. It seems there are no vacancies in the entirety of Sugar Beach.” Proom looked around. “One-Eleven?”

  “Ash’s busy.”

  “Quelle surprise. The medical report I received said that she’s healing nicely. Of course, that’s only to be expected.”

  “Our compliments to your chef,” Brody deadpanned and Proom smiled.

  “Do you know, for the longest time, I thought it was just that simple. I took pride in it. Now, I won’t deny, we did contribute a great deal to her current state, but it seems my fellow chefs and I cannot take all the credit.” Brody’s eyes flicked to Cam and the taped storefront of Level Up, but he didn’t say anything. Proom nodded. “Since One-Eleven left us, things have been…a little quieter, shall we say. I’ve had the time and ability to pursue one or two things that interested me. One of which is the question of that subject’s continued good health.

  “Consider the rest of our…well, let’s call them our Beta Group. Aside from the emotional equilibrium issue, there was the continual problem of the body simply rejecting the changes. Their bodies couldn’t handle the demands we were asking of it. But One-Eleven never had that problem. According to the report from that subject’s most recent stay in hospital, it is still not an issue. Our star pupil is as fit as the proverbial fiddle. I must admit, I found the question as to why this was…fascinating. Why has she continued to thrive, when all of the other subjects did not?

  “It wasn’t until our girl moved here and we had to run checks on this town and the people she associated with—standard procedure, you know how it is—that we discovered, or even considered, that there are some of us who are, shall we say, differently-abled. And I began to develop a theory. Would you like to hear it?”

  “No,” Brody said.

  Proom waved it away. “It seems there are those among us who are born with certain advantages. Like healing. Or…” He smiled at Cam. “We’re not entirely sure why. From what we’ve found, however, these people are typically healthier. Stronger. More resilient. Perhaps it has something to do with their being more advanced. But in One-Eleven’s case, it seems to be something truly special. It seems we have that ability to thank for One-Eleven’s success in the program. I am so pleased to hear our last Beta is doing so well. Which reminds me—no chance I can beg loan of your couch for the night?” Proom asked Brody. “I’d hate to rush home again before seeing for myself how well One-Eleven is doing.” Brody said nothing, and Proom passed it off with a shrug. “This is a remarkable town. You know, I couldn’t find a single room to rent or house to buy?”

  “Tourist season,” Cam said.

  “If that’s the case, there should be no problem. I’m sure I can find someone willing to postpone their vacation a few days. I did want a chance to look around this place.”

  “Maybe they don’t want to leave,” Cam said.

  Proom shrugged. “That’s a very simple view to take of things. I prefer to think there is always a way for everybody to get what they want. It’s just a matter of what you want and what they want and finding out what they want more. Take your friend Danny, for instance. I’ve been trying to make a deal with him for…ever, it seems. Mortgage, USC, trust fund for the wee Whitney. Nada. How is he doing, by the by?” Proom asked. “I heard there was some kind of trouble with that wonderfully athletic Miss Bell he was dating.”

  “She was kidnapped,” Cam said.

  Proom shook his head. “Shame, that. It seems like quite the mess. I understand there’s suspicion that she was ‘kidnapped’ by the same people who had something to do with—Mr. Reese’s disappearance.”

  “Only suspicion,” Brody said.

  “Shame, that,” Proom repeated. “They are in for a quite the surprise, aren’t they? I mean, if we postulate that she was taken by the same people as our dear Dr. MacNamara’s brother, then it must follow that they took her for the same reason. Stands to reason they thought she was like Mr. Reese. She’s not, though, is she? And amazing in a way, isn’t it? How long must she have practiced, how much time and effort and determination she must have committed for those people—whoever they may be—to have mistaken skill and talent for a very different kind of ability. What with the R&D resources that they must undoubtedly have. They must be very disappointed.” He tsked. “How long has your Danny been seeing her? Four years—five? I know what they say about first love and childhood sweethearts and all that, but those kids”—Proom winked—“I think they might have something.”

  Brody gr
abbed Cam as he jolted out of his chair, then yanked him back down and shut him up with a look.

  Proom snagged his iPad from his bag and started tapping in a note. “That reminds me—I’d appreciate the chance to speak to you, my dear doctor, about the temper issue. It seems it’s not just One-Eleven, and we won’t be able to move into further testing if subjects are going to snap at the drop of a hat. We lose more good subjects that way than because of rejection—ah, well… Toodles.” Proom stood to go and then paused. “If you see Danny later, do tell him I said hello. And to let me know if he ever changes his mind.”

  Ch. 20

  The moment of silence that followed was sickening.

  Cam stood.

  “Don’t,” Brody said.

  Cam looked at Brody for a moment, then got some napkins and cleaned up—some of the coffee had spilled during their conversation. It had snaked along the table and was starting to drip on the floor.

  “Don’t,” Brody repeated.

  Cam shook his head. “It’s not your choice to make. It’s his.”

  “And you know exactly what choice he’ll make if you tell him. So don’t. It’s exactly what Proom wants. Then he’ll have his hands on both of them, because if you think for one second he’ll hand her over then you’re a fucking idiot.” Brody caught Cam’s eye, and then Diana’s. “Don’t tell him.”

  “What would you do?” Cam demanded. “If it was Ashley? If it was Meg?”

  “If it was Ashley, she could damn well get herself out of that situation,” Brody fired back. “And if it was Meg—I sure as hell wouldn’t give them what they want. You can’t trust him.”

  “No, you can’t,” Diana interrupted, planting her palms on the table. “But that’s not the issue here. Because Danny is going to find out one way or another, whether or not it’s from us. Proom will make sure he does. The question is not should we tell Danny; it’s whether Danny should hear this from Proom, or from his friends.”

  Danny was alone at his house. He listened quietly as Brody told him what Proom had said, and why it would be a very bad idea to go along with it. Danny agreed that it would be a bad idea, and thanked them for coming over. But Cam kept seeing DANNY’S FINGERS, DIALING A CELL PHONE.

  “Whatever he says, they’re not going to give her back,” Brody said.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes, we do,” Tyler insisted. “They’ve kidnapped two people so far. That we know of. You can’t trust them. You can’t trust anything they say.”

  Cam watched as Brody put a comforting hand on Danny’s shoulder, but Danny pushed up off the sofa and crossed the room, away from them.

  “Now, I’m here because Dr. Mac and Cam insisted you had a right to know. And because I trust you not to do anything stupid,” Brody continued. “And, Tyler, I trust you not to let him do anything stupid.”

  “I won’t,” Tyler promised.

  Danny didn’t respond, but he thanked them for warning him and held the door open for them when they left.

  Two hours later, he sent Cam a text.

  Cam met him at the corner of Cayos and Papaya, near the main road out of town. He expected Danny on foot, but he came in his car, and left the engine running and the car door open as he hurried over to talk to Cam.

  “You called them,” Cam said.

  “I called them. They said to meet in Griffith Park at nine. They’ll bring Liz, I’ll bring me, we’ll do a swap.”

  “You trust them?” Cam asked carefully.

  “No. But—they hand Liz back, good. She’s there, she’s back, she’s fine. They don’t, then, they’re taking me to the same place, right? Maybe if I can see her—see inside. Maybe I can think of something. A way to get us out of there, I don’t know. I’m a superhero, I should be able to do something. And they have Ian, right? Maybe they have other people who don’t want to be there. Who can do things. I want you to come with me. Not like that,” Danny said quickly. “They said to meet at nine, so I’m thinking we go eight, eight-thirty, and you get out and hide in the bushes. They won’t even know you’re there. If they do bring Liz, who knows what state she’s going to be in. She’ll need help. She’ll need someone to bring her back.”

  “Tyler?” Cam asked.

  “Had to use the bathroom some time. And the second he sees I’m gone he’s going to he’d rat me out to Brody. Or the chief. Both, probably. When I called they told me—they’re watching them. If they leave, if they come with me, they’ll hurt Liz.” Danny glanced anxiously at his cell. “Please. If you’re going with me, we have to go now.”

  Cam was already opening the passenger side door.

  The drive was tense and quiet, and long enough that it went dark outside. It was pitch black in the park by the time Danny turned off the engine and started scouting for suitable foliage. “Can you climb a tree?”

  “I can figure it out.” Cam went to unbuckle his seatbelt and saw that his hands were shaking. “This was a bad idea, you know that? I can’t…see myself. If I’m involved, I can’t see what’s going to happen.”

  “All you need to see is Liz.” Danny’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.

  “We should have told Brody.”

  Danny craned his head back and forth, fighting to peer into the dark. “I told Whitney to wait ‘til nine-thirty and then call Brody and tell him I did that thing he really didn’t want me to do. But they said to come alone or they’d hurt Liz. Besides, Proom knows Brody, they’ll be watching him.”

  “You believe them?” Cam asked.

  “I believe they’d hurt Liz. I believe they wouldn’t care if they hurt anyone.” Danny nodded to a huge tree stretching out overhead. “That one looks good, you think?”

  Cam reached for the door handle. “Let’s just hope if I fall, it’s on one of them.”

  A flashlight flared to light outside his window, and Cam only just managed to keep from jumping out of his skin. Danny and Cam looked at each other. “They said nine,” Danny said.

  “I guess they had the same idea you did,” Cam replied.

  There was a polite rap on Danny’s window. Danny glanced at Cam, then unbuckled his seatbelt and went to get out of the car. Cam followed.

  There were men. Cam couldn’t count how many. They were dressed in black, and had guns with flashlights on them.

  “Mr. Evans?” one asked.

  “Where’s Liz?” Danny demanded.

  “You were told to come alone.”

  “He’s nobody. He’s here for Liz. He’s going to take her to the hospital. Where is she? I want to see her now.”

  One of the other men tapped the first man’s shoulder. He’d been flipping through something on his phone, and he held it out now for the first man to see.

  Then he looked up at Cam. “Camron Scott?”

  “Run!” Danny shouted, shoving at the man closest to him. “Fucking run, Cam!”

  They tried to run. They didn’t get very far. It was pathetic how far they didn’t get before they were caught and dragged back and slammed up against the hood of the car.

  “Daniel Evans. Camron Scott. You are hereby conscripted under the Xavier Act of 2005, Paragraph 4, Subparagraph E. You have the right to food, housing, reasonable health care, and fair treatment as listed in Paragraphs 12 and 13. You have the right to object to conscription at this time.”

  “I object,” Cam bit off.

  “Your objection will be noted in your file,” the man said. He took out a small pouch, unzippered it, and removed a hypodermic needle.

  “People are going to wonder what happened to us,” Cam said. “They’ll come for us.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Cam saw one of the black-swathed men pass another one some money. “They always say that,” the man told him.

  Cam felt the small sting as he watched the needle go in, and the odd sense of pressure as the plunger push down. She’ll come for you, he told himself. She’ll find you. Consciousness swirled into a tiny pinprick, and winked out.

  Ch. 21<
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  “Cam’s been taken.”

  Ashley was sitting on the bed when Brody came in and said the words she’d known he’d say. They’d been thumping away in her chest all night, as each tick of the clock scraped against her spine. Still, it took her a second to…process, and understand.

  She wasn’t angry now. It was strange. She should’ve felt angry. At Proom, at herself, at…everything. Ashley knew she was angry, on some level, but that was so deep down she couldn’t feel it. It felt like a dream, in that strange way dreams could be both clear and blurry. Everything was new, and simple, and her head swam trying to think about it.

  Ashley pushed herself to the edge and put her feet on the floor. The wood was warped and smooth under her feet. Brody built this house, she knew. Knew, but never thought about. He’d come here, he’d told her, to find some peace and quiet, to find the ocean and a place where he could get away from all the ugly thoughts and ugly things he’d done. Things he never talked about, at least not with her, though sometimes she came back from the beach to smell Meg through the open window and catch the quiet voices, and she’d back away again. He’d found this place, and built a home here, and found room in it for Ashley. She’d never thought about it before, not really. She’d been selfish and angry. She’d never thanked him.

  Brody had already told Meg. Ashley knew that. She could hear Meg downstairs. She could hear the sobs.

  “Proom,” Ashley said.

  “Gone,” Brody told her. “Left late last afternoon, not long after coffee.”

  As much as she could feel, Ashley felt surprised. She wasn’t screaming. Not out loud. “How—?” She didn’t manage to finish it. If Proom was still in town, it would’ve been simple. She could have just wrapped her hands around his throat and slammed his head into a wall, again and again, until he told her where they were. Without him—

  “I may have an answer to that.”

  “How?” Ashley’s mouth asked.

  Brody was watching her closely. “You know how this will end.” His voice was hard and blunt. “It’ll mean going there, wherever it is. It’ll mean facing him. You don’t have to go; I can take care of this. Ashley,” Brody said, and she looked up at him. His expression surprised her; he didn’t often let people see inside. “Let me take care of this for you.”