“That would be my guess.”
“Wait, did you say my mother asked you? You know my mother?” I blurted out. I am oh-so-observant sometimes.
“Yes, as a matter of fact I do.”
The intercom on the desk chirped. “Blaze, we got Reclaimers coming down the street,” Max from the front desk said. “Might be a random sweep, but given the trouble…”
Blaze uttered a couple of words my mother would not approve of. He flipped a switch and the four monitors on the wall lit up and the street outside sprang into view, as did the sides, the back, and the roof of The Secret Lair. Three toughs in Reclaimer patrol uniforms headed toward the shop. I saw them the last time I’d been here when they checked collars. The collars couldn’t be removed outside The Block. Marcel’s theory, and he had theories about everything, consisted of the collar had micro hooks which affixed to your skin to keep it in place. Still, any convenient excuse to hassle Gifted.
“Okay, Tommy. Those Reclaimers mean business. You’ve got to disappear.” He hit the talk button on the video intercom. “Max, stall them. I’ve got to take out the trash.”
Max winked at the camera. “Will do, boss. We can’t let anything happen to Tommy.”
“Where can I go? My mom won’t be here for a couple of hours.” I sounded a bit shrill, but if the Reclaimers thought I did something to Chaz, they could take me away, permanently.
“Quiet,” Blaze said. He pulled out a keyboard and started typing. A second later, a panel in the wall slid open. He sprang up and led me to the opening. “You go down and stay down until I come get you. Understand?”
“Where am I going?”
“To The Secret Lair. Didn’t you read the sign?”
The door slid shut, a light overhead flickered on, and the elevator sped downward. After a couple of seconds and a gentle stop, my stomach returned to its rightful place. If Alice had gone down a cyberpunk rabbit hole, this is where she would have come out in. Marcel would have died and thought he’d gone to heaven.
Before me lay a cavernous expanse, filled with technology and space-aged furniture. To the right stood an enormous concrete table circled by twelve Carbinium chairs with blue and silver padding. One of the chairs could have fit our couch, with room to spare. To the left stood a kitchen the likes I’d never seen. Huge refrigerators, four stoves and a wall of ovens. Mom would have been in her glory in a place like this.
I crept across to where a thirty-foot arch opened on to a room; a wall of TVs with a semi-circle of padded armchairs A solid piece of stone rested before an enormous couch, which had been centered before the video wall. The main screen must have been a two-hundred-inch model surrounded by smaller screens. Our TV would have been laughed off the wall.
My head rotated like it was on a swivel, swinging left to right in a futile attempt to see everything. Another doorway stood on the right wall. After the first ride, my stomach wouldn’t be pleased to enter it. I perched on the edge of the couch, next to a remote control. If I moved all the way back, my feet wouldn’t reach the floor.
The main TV bloomed to life as I did, splitting into quadrants, each showing part of The Secret Lair upstairs. An adjacent set showed the outside views and feeds from what could only be local sources, both Reclaimer and Protectorate.
I focused on the view of Blaze at the front desk. “…disturbance out back earlier today. You know what happened?” The officer appeared a bit out of shape for the Reclaimers, must be why he pulled walking a beat in Great Falls instead of duty in Redemption or the Block.
“Just what I told dispatch when I called for the ambulance, officer,” Blaze said. “I heard a noise out back and saw the three injured boys.”
I cringed. What if Chaz told the Reclaimers what really happened? Not only would they be looking for me, they would shut Blaze down and maybe arrest him, too. I needed to get as far from here as possible. I ran to the elevator that had let me off, but I couldn’t find the center seam for the door to the elevator, let alone a button to call it.
Get a grip, Tommy. I took a deep breath and went back into the room to sit back on the couch.
The officer stared at Blaze; obviously, he didn’t believe him. “The boys told us a gang of kids jumped them, but gangs usually rob them after they beat them.”
“Well, good,” Blaze said with a smile. “It doesn’t seem any of their injuries are life-threatening.”
“No, they aren’t, but it doesn’t add up, Mr. Thomas.”
“Those boys looked pretty tough to me. Maybe they scared their attackers off?”
Max stepped on camera and tapped Blaze on the shoulder. “Here’s the surveillance clip the officer asked for.” He immediately left, and he reappeared somewhere else, but I remained riveted on the scene with Blaze.
“Thanks, Max,” Blaze muttered to empty air before handing the chip to the officer. The officer pulled a viewer out from his utility belt and snapped in the chip. He watched for a minute, sighed, and put the viewer away.
“Well, the video appears pretty conclusive. Thank you for your time, Mr. Thomas.” The officer turned to leave and motioned for the other two to follow.
I decided it was a good time to breathe. I’d been sure Chaz would squeal to the Reclaimers. Blaze’s warning must have penetrated Chaz’s thick skull, so he kept to the story. They were beyond scared. Even mentioning a Gifted had started the fight would have been enough for me to be arrested. I can’t believe how stupid I could be. I wanted to bang my head on the wall. Mom told me not to leave, Blaze tried to stop me, but Captain Stupidity went for a stroll with the pretty girl. If it had happened to someone else, I would have laughed at him for being an idiot.
Blaze didn’t make a sound as he entered the room. Self-loathing must make you deaf. I just about wet my pants when he laid his hand on my shoulder.
“Sorry, Tommy.” He walked over and took the seat next to me, laying the backpack I’d left upstairs at my feet. “I take it you saw my conversation with the Reclaimers?”
“Yeah, the displayed turned on when I sat down.” Another screw-up to add to the list. I should have stayed in bed. “How did you have footage of a gang attack?”
“Dude, you aren’t the first Gifted to screw up here. Lucky for us, Max is a wiz with digital images.” The surfer personality, which hadn’t been around while dealing with Chaz, snapped back into place. I liked it a lot more than the angry look from earlier.
“That’s cool.”
“True, but you have to understand though nowhere is safe for you, dude.”
“I’m really sorry, Blaze,” I stammered a bit trying to get it out. “She seemed so nice, and I figured if they came here, she couldn’t be bad.” I realized my face flushed with embarrassment.
“Tommy, I was sixteen once, a long, long time ago.” He chuckled. “She’s a babe, and I’m sure all the Norms ignore you. It’s tough enough being a teenager without the burden of having a Gift.”
“Some Gift. More like a curse.”
The smile vanished. “Tommy, your abilities, whatever they might be, are a Gift. It’s the Reclaimers who don’t see it them for what they are.” I felt like his eyes would bore through my head the way he glared at me. “I would give anything to have your Gift.”
“I wish I could give it to you.”
Blaze rubbed his forehead. “Let me tell you a story, Tommy.” He walked over and grabbed a silver picture frame from a shelf near the TV. “When I was a bit older than you, I worked with a team called Stryke Force. We fought criminals, both Gifted and not.”
“I thought only the Gifted had teams?”
“No, there are a lot of people who fought crime, but the government only sponsored the Gifted teams. We did a lot of security work to pay the bills.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Before you were born.” His voice had a softer tone than usual. “Raychel Downs, Pepper Spray was her alias, and we fell in love.” He paused to show me the picture. Pepper Spray had neon orange hair cut super short an
d a mischievous grin on her face like she had a secret. I could see why Blaze liked her.
“As a kid, she had been struck by a car. She lost a leg and suffered a lot of damage. In college, she volunteered for a project to replace her missing parts with robotics, effectively making her a cyborg. After getting her Electrical Engineering degree, she built enhancements so she could fight crime.” He took the picture back, cradling it in his hands as if it would break from touching it.
“The five of us, Pepper, Alyx the Summoner, Gladiator, Death Adder, and I went on a mission. It should have been a quick bit of intel gathering and home.” He carried the photo back to the case, his back to me. “We walked right into an ambush. Alyx fell, a blast took off both legs under the knee. Pepper was cut down in cold blood by a psychopath.” He stopped, staring intently at the picture. I could almost feel him reliving that day. “If it hadn’t been for Jack Taylor and his team, we’d have all been killed.”
“You mean Mr. Taylor?” I asked astonished.
“One and the same. Hero didn’t come close to describing Jack. After all he did for me, I’d never work for the Protectorate.”
I’d never known Mr. Taylor had been on a powered team.
Blaze coughed. “You see, Tommy, I don’t have a Gift. If I had, I might have been able to get to her before she died.”
I saw the anguish in his face as he held the frame in his hands. I knew the feeling; I’d be able to fight back if I had access to my Gift.
“Sorry.” He held the photo for a minute or so. He placed the frame back on the shelf. When he turned around the old Blaze came back, big smile forced on to his face.
I pushed the fear and worry away. I couldn’t get dragged down into self-pity now. “So what is this place?”
“Dude, it’s The Secret Lair.” He laughed. “Everyone assumes that what’s the upstairs is, and we let them.”
“But why have it? There aren’t any more crime-fighting groups.” I fidgeted, adrenaline still coursed through my veins.
“Ahh, but there are. Just because you don’t have powers, doesn’t mean you can’t fight crime, but that’s not what you meant, I’m sure. Your father built this place a long time ago, so I keep it safe.”
I jumped off the sofa. “You’ve met my father!” My mother would never discuss the subject. She said it was too dangerous for me to know.
Blaze stopped, concern flashed across his face. “Your mother hasn’t told you?”
“No, I haven’t.” Mom’s voice shot from behind us.
I am so dead. I turned, realizing we hadn’t noticed the hiss of the elevator doors opening. There stood five feet six inches of blond fury in high heels. Her face flushed red, and I swear she shook with rage.
“Susan, you have to tell the boy,” Blaze started.
“No, Eugene, I don’t. I am his mother, and I’ll be damned if you’ll tell me what is best for my son.”
“But—” I’ll give him this: it took a brave man to keep going.
“Eugene, shut it. I told you before this is none of your business.”
“But it is mine, Mom, and I want to know,” I blurted out. Oh man, I’m dead now. Why does my mouth always run before the brain kicks in?
She paused. Some of the red left, and her eyes didn’t appear as crazy as before. “Tommy, your father is a wonderful man, but he is very dangerous. You have to trust me, honey. I will tell you, but not until you are older.”
“I am not a baby, Mom!” My voice wavered, which kind of ruined the effect I wanted, but I was pissed off. “You can’t control me forever. I deserve to know.”
I grabbed my backpack and stormed across the room, fully intending to leave. Only problem here, I still couldn’t figure out how to open the damn elevator. I just stood there, bag in hand, staring at a blank wall, my face getting hot with embarrassment.
I heard the click of Mom’s heels as she came up behind me. “Tommy, why are you down here and not upstairs?”
Damn. Max must have told her what happened. I hung my head. I’m toast.
“No reason.” Truly a lame response, but I couldn’t come up with anything better under the circumstances.
“Really?” Is there a class moms go to teaching them how to pack all that sarcasm into one word? I will never understand how one word can say “I know you did something you weren’t supposed to and think I’m too stupid to figure out you did it, but I know exactly what you did, and you better tell me or it will be far worse for you, mister.”
“We had a misunderstanding with one of the girls upstairs today,” Blaze said.
“So your definition of a ‘misunderstanding’ is you had to stop an assault on my son before the juvenile delinquents murdered him? Am I mistaken?”
I glanced at Blaze. He shrugged his shoulders in defeat. Sometimes you have to realize when the battle is lost, I guess.
“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t know who my father is!” A bit louder than I intended, but I was right.
“Tommy, I told you to stay inside while I went into work, didn’t I?” She used the lawyer voice on me now. The “I-am-totally-reasonable-and-you-are-a-liar” tone sprang into full force.
“Yes, ma’am, but—”
“Did you stay inside?”
I’m so screwed. “No, ma’am.”
“Well, your father is a million times more dangerous than outside. If you slip, you could be killed. Do you understand?”
My gaze wandered around the room in search of anything that could help me. The Carbinium chairs, the three-foot-thick walls, the state of the art kitchen. This place could withstand almost anything. Why would you need a hidden base if you were a hero?
Because the villains would kill you whenever they could. Oh crap.
“But you told Blaze,” I whined halfheartedly.
“Eugene? Can you please tell Tommy why you know without any details, please?”
I waited as Blaze sat rubbing his chin. He didn’t look pleased, but he did what Mom asked.
“Your dad told me so I could protect you.” The normal cheer had left his voice. “He figured your mom would need someone she could trust while he was imprisoned.”
Mom glanced at me. I could tell she was upset, but I had the right to know who I am. “Your father made sure no one found out about his secret identity. A lot of the Gifted ‘heroes’ got big heads and talked about who was important in their lives, attended events without protecting their identities. When the Reclamation War started, they had nowhere to go, and their families paid for it, a lot of times with their lives.” She reached out and rubbed my back. “When you get older, I promise I will tell you everything, and if anything happens to me, Eugene has permission to tell you. Deal?” She held out her hand for me to shake.
I wanted to refuse, but I took her hand. “Deal.” It would be the best deal I’d get from counsel.
In all fairness to the kids, mothers shouldn’t be allowed to be lawyers.
4
Monday morning came, as always, and I went off to school, though Mom took me there before continuing on to file some paperwork at the courthouse. After Saturday’s fiasco, I think she worried about me taking the bus.
Marcel stepped off the second of the Institute’s buses, so we walked in together. The majority of the Gifted kids lived at the Institute. Parents handed their kids over to the Reclaimers rather than move here as required. Montana wasn’t exactly a hotbed of activity. Leaving your whole life behind for a Gifted didn’t hold much appeal for Norms. Once Gifted reached eighteen, they had the option to move to Great Falls where a job would be provided for them or they could work at The Block. The rumors suggested Gifted being drafted into the military, but as far as I knew, the Reclaimers never trusted Gifted regardless that they couldn’t use their powers. The collars of Gifted are only removed in two instances: refitting and death.
“Did you see Wendi yet?” Marcel asked. The Stevens twins lived at the Institute with him, so he always got to see her, the pearl in the rotten oyster of The Institut
e.
“No, Mom dropped me off. She’s a bit paranoid after the weekend.” I filled him in on the girl at The Secret Lair and the fight. I left out the rest, per Mom’s orders. She would say request, but the tone in her voice brooked no deviation from her instructions, and after breaking her rule on Saturday, I wouldn’t be breaking another.
Mr. Taylor stood inside the front door with a new student, a tall girl who had dark hair on one side, fire engine red on the other. Half Goth, half punk, miracles never cease in Redemption.
“Marcel, Thomas.” He nodded to each of us in turn. “This is Abby Thompson, a new member of our school. She will be on the same track as you both. Could you please show her around the school and explain the rules to her?”
“Sure thing, Mr. T,” Marcel said, pushing up his glasses and trying to stand straighter. His ‘fro made him look taller than his six feet, but Abby had about half an inch on him if his hair was matted down. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Abby.”
I tilted my head toward Marcel, a puzzled expression on my face. My uber-geeky friend has been replaced by an alien, I’m sure of it. Pleasure to meet you?
“Yeah, right,” she replied. Her attitude screamed, “Don’t mess with me.” She wore her black leather jacket like armor. It made her silver collar gleam even more. As I got closer, I could see faint bruises poking out from under her Goth makeup.
“Come on, Marcel.” After the weekend, I wasn’t much in the mood to deal with girls with attitude. As Marcel and I headed down the hall toward class, I glanced back. Abby stood with Mr. Taylor, who appeared dumbfounded. “You coming?” I asked impatiently.
She glared at me, threw her backpack over a shoulder, and shoved past me.
I stared at Mr. Taylor. “Really? Why me?”
“She came from a bad situation, Tommy. She’s scared and could use a friend. You been in her shoes before, you know.”
“Great, just what I need.” I wished Marcel’s alien overlords would appear to save me, but no such luck. But Mr. Taylor had it right. I did know how it felt to be alone and scared. Saturday had reinforced that lesson quite a bit. I turned and entered school, another fun-filled day in the pen.
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