“I really don’t know how I did that,” I admitted honestly.
“Because you are a remarkable young woman.” Roberta smiled at me.
What was going on?
She was looking at me like… well… like a grandmother looks at their granddaughter. I was used to the Murderess-Death-Stare she usually gave me. This was freaking me out a little too much.
“I, seriously, can’t do this,” I said and stood up. “Why are you being so nice to me? It’s repulsive.”
Roberta stood up as well, her expression serious. “I know I’ve been horrible to you.” She stopped herself and I could see that even she knew how much of an understatement that was. “More than horrible. I was evil. I blamed you and your mother for Franklin’s death and I wanted you to suffer for it. I wanted you dead.”
Roberta took a moment to gather herself, then continued, “When you miscarry as many times as I have and then you finally have a healthy child, it does something to you. It makes your mothering instincts distortedly strong. We killed your mother because we trusted her and she betrayed us. She put my son in far more danger than even she knew. Did you ever think there was a reason why we kept your father a child? Did you honestly believe it was because we were deranged lunatics that wanted to torture our only child?” She took a step closer to me. “Everything that Geoffrey and I do is for the greater good, I promise you that.”
“Killing my mom was for the greater good? Trying to kill me a bagillion times was for the greater good? We obviously have very different views of what’s good and what isn’t.” I crossed my arms defensively. I didn’t like hearing her speak, it was making my skin crawl. I didn’t want to know the reasoning behind every evil that she’d done. I just wanted to hate her.
“I admit, killing your mother was pure vengeance. But trying to kill you was for the greater good…” Roberta started.
“No. I don’t want to hear anymore,” I interrupted.
Roberta placed her hands on my arms forcing eye contact. “You have to. Chelsan, this is very important. We tried to kill you because…” She couldn’t seem to continue.
After a moment she exhaled deeply, “Chelsan, the reason why I’ve been keeping Elisha away from that memory isn’t because I’m afraid she’ll see the spell that gave you your power.” She paused again.
“What do you mean?” My curiosity was overpowering my anger and hatred. This whole time Elisha has been after the spell to give her powers like mine. What was more dangerous than psycho girl being able to control the dead? “If it’s not to hide the spell that gave me my power, then what is it?”
Roberta calmed herself. “Chelsan, there was a second spell. Franklin’s first spell gave you and your mother life, but the second didn’t give you your power: it transferred Franklin’s power to you.”
Whoa.
My mind froze and went into overdrive all at once.
My dad had my powers?
A lot of things started to make more sense in the deep recesses of my subconscious. Things I hadn’t thought about or even recognized before. All those times when Turner seemed so surprised at what I could do with my powers. All those times when he seemed to know so much more about my powers than I did. When he said there are others like me and he wasn’t intimidated.
“I can do things that Dad couldn’t though. That’s why Turner and you were always so shocked when I did something new with my powers.” I couldn’t stop staring into Roberta’s midnight colored eyes.
Her smile was small. “It meant either Franklin didn’t tell us everything or he didn’t know how far he could take his gift. Either way, it just made us hate you more. To see you alive with his gift, when he was dead. It was too much.” She dropped her hands from my arms. “But that’s all different now. You’re all we have left of Franklin. And you’re so much like him in so many ways: your spirit, your kindness, your insatiable gift for survival. You’re ours.”
I really didn’t like the way she said that. Why did I get the feeling that my grandmother’s obsession for her son was turning into an obsession for me? I couldn’t figure out which was worse: evil psychopath grandma, or just insane stalker grandma? Both weren’t looking so good right now.
“That still doesn’t explain why you kept Dad a kid,” I blurted out.
“To protect him. When we discovered what he could do, we knew the world would make him a human lab experiment. We told everyone that our child had died and we kept Franklin a secret from everyone. We learned so much from him, from his gifts…”
“Wait a second,” I interrupted Roberta again. “You can do all your voodoo dead controlling thing because you turned your own son into a lab rabbit yourself. You didn’t want ‘the world’ to have him because he was more valuable to you and your cause. You used him for your own gain.” Tears welled up from my disgust. “You repulse me.”
Roberta didn’t even look offended, she just said calmly, “I know you see it that way, but we did do it for Franklin. To protect him.”
“Yeah, right.” I didn’t want to give her an inch. I didn’t want to give her a millimeter. I just wanted to punch her face. But I knew she wasn’t really there. That it wouldn’t do any good. “Stop making me see you all nice and pretty. I want to see you as your Feline self. I want to see the woman who tortured my mother’s dead body!” My anger was boiling to the surface and before my eyes, Roberta changed back to her stretched, frozen face.
That was her. The woman I hated. The woman I wanted dead!
And, to my surprise, she smiled. A grotesque, stiff smile. “You did that.”
“Did what?!” I couldn’t seem to calm down.
“You changed me back to this form, all on your own. You imagined it and it came to pass. This is how you can keep people out as well.” Roberta seemed pleased by my progress.
And it was enough to make me pause. It really was that simple. I thought it, and it happened. I knew in that moment I could kick the all-powerful Roberta straight out of my head, but something held me back.
As much as I was angry and hated her, I found myself comforted by her as well. Maybe it was because I was buried alive and she was my only connection to reality. Or maybe a part of me wanted to believe she was sincere…
I sat down once more in an exhausted heap. “So, Elisha having access to my memory would allow her to steal my powers. Maybe she should just have them. I’m tired of all this.” I lay back on the ground and stared at the twisting branches of the oak. I almost wanted to stay here forever. I could feel my brain starting to shut down. I didn’t want to feel anymore at all. I just wanted to lie there and stare at the branches for all eternity.
“It’s not that simple.” Roberta sat down next to me. “Your father sliced himself with a knife to revive your mother, that was the first spell, but that’s not what killed him. It was the second spell. When Franklin transferred his powers to you. That’s what killed him. If Elisha performs the ritual, transferring your powers to herself, you would die.”
That woke me up.
The oaks didn’t seem all that interesting anymore.
Did Roberta just tell me that I killed my father?
My mind froze.
I started to cry.
Roberta was shocked. I could tell she didn’t know what to do. She reached her hand forward to comfort me, but I shrugged her away.
“What is it, Chelsan?” Roberta really did seem clueless.
“You’re saying I killed him, just so I could have this stupid gift!” I croaked out.
Roberta’s frozen face actually moved. Her eyes flashed guilt, and I could see she genuinely felt for me. “No, Chelsan, I don’t think your father knew what he was doing. He knew the spell would kill him, but I think he thought he was destroying the power forever. I don’t believe he knew he’d transferred his gift to you. He wouldn’t do that to his child, knowing what a burden it was for him. Dying was worth it to him to rid himself of his gift forever. He thought Geoffrey and I would leave you and your mother alone if he died
. He knew about Bruce and he told your mother to find him. I don’t think he ever wanted her to marry him, but your mother was a survivor, like you. She did what she had to do to keep you protected. If I hadn’t been so crazed with anger, I might have admired that in her.”
“Shut up!” I screamed. “I told you, you don’t get to talk about my mother!” I stood up, angry.
Roberta was on her feet next to me in seconds. “Listen to me. Chelsan, listen to me.”
I stood there trying to compose myself, but just ended up cry-breathing.
“You’re missing the bigger picture, here. I’m letting go of the past and you need to also, or Elisha will win.” Roberta’s feline face was concentrated. “Do you understand?”
I nodded.
“Good. I need you to keep Elisha out of your head and we need to find you and get you as far away from her as possible. Now that I’ve told you everything, if she gets inside for long enough, she’ll know the truth.” Roberta was talking to me like I was a mental patient (which I felt like I was at the moment).
I took a few moments to breathe and it calmed me down. I knew I needed to keep it together, but Roberta throwing me these zingers wasn’t helping. But she was right, I needed to push away my hatred of my grandparents. At least until I could escape. Assuming I would escape.
And Ryan.
I still had to save Ryan.
I sat back down and Roberta joined me. “Elisha thinks gaining my power is some sort of prophecy. She won’t care about killing me.”
“I know. The only reason why she’s kept you alive this long is to see that memory. Once she has it, she’ll perform the ritual and have no problems taking your life. She’s never had that problem. She’s murdered over twenty I.Q. Farm kids over the years,” Roberta said it almost lazily, as if killing the I.Q. kids was normal.
“You and your little ‘Farms’ have turned innocent children into psychopaths. You know that, right? Don’t you feel any guilt or responsibility?” I was upset by Roberta’s relaxed tone about the subject.
Roberta’s cat-like face actually laughed. “We didn’t turn her into a psychopath. We picked Elisha because she already was one. A sociopath to be more precise. Geoffrey and I only take children with these tendencies. Once their high test scores have been flagged, we send observers. If a child shows any signs of sociopathic behavior, we take them to the farm. Trust me, Chelsan, if we didn’t take them, they would commit far worse crimes. We can at least use their intelligence for something useful to this world.”
“But Ryan isn’t a sociopath,” I said and was suddenly very scared. Could he have fooled me this whole time? My experience with Brady was clouding my judgment.
“Oh, no. Ryan was a mistake. It happens from time to time. Did you really think Geoffrey would let an I.Q. kid go simply because he made up a fib? We took Ryan because his dog was missing. In most cases, the I.Q. kids start out by killing their pets. It’s one of the first signs. About twenty minutes after Ryan arrived, Geoffrey got word that Ryan’s dog had been found by a neighbor. When Ryan told Geoffrey his lie about cheating on his tests, Ryan’s face was so earnest and sweet, Geoffrey knew he didn’t belong at the farm. It wasn’t until Ryan solved Trilidon’s theorem that we had any regret about releasing him. We wouldn’t have kept him in the farm with the others, but we could have kept him ourselves,” Roberta said with a far off look, then she realized how that last part would effect me and said, “But everything worked out, didn’t it? What are the odds that you and Ryan would find each other? Everything happens for a reason.”
I was fast learning that this was Roberta’s way of backpedaling, but I really wasn’t as upset as I thought I should be. I felt guilty for even having a pang of doubt about Ryan. That’s when Roberta’s words sank in.
I.Q. Farms weren’t a bunch of innocent kids that were taken from their families and strapped to machines for experiments.
They were potential serial killers.
Suddenly I didn’t feel so guilty about how two months ago I didn’t even think to help those kids escape the I.Q. Farm. My instincts must have warned me on a subconscious level. No wonder Elisha didn’t want to take down the I.Q. Farms. She didn’t want a bunch of psychopaths on the loose, or more probably she didn’t want the world to know she was a psychopath.
Then it made me think of something. “Why wasn’t Brady brought in as a child?”
Roberta answered, “Brady is the worst kind of psycho. The dumb kind. We allow a few hundred to live under our protection throughout the world.” Her eyes were pleading for understanding. “This world will strangle itself if the population isn’t kept to a certain amount. I know this is a bit overwhelming, but we are doing this to protect human survival.”
I shook my head. “Those girls in Brady’s backyard didn’t deserve to die, and I saw the way you looked at the I.Q. Farm kids. You looked at them like they were your children. With love.” Takes a sociopath to love a sociopath.
Roberta nodded not bothering to deny it. “Yes, I do love them. Geoffrey and I have made them better people. Their brilliance is responsible for almost every single advancement we’ve had in the last two hundred years. Keeping them at the age range of seven to ten allows their brains to calculate fifteen billion times faster than an adults. They’re essential to the growth of technology and our survival. I admit it, I’m proud of them.”
Gross. She actually believed what she was shoveling.
“What about the twins? Are they sociopaths as well?” I asked.
“They were the only survivors. Geoffrey and I kept them safe,” Roberta said quietly.
She was being vague, and didn’t really answer the question. “Well, when I connected to their swirling black brains, I almost went blind.”
Roberta’s eyes widened. “You did? Are you sure?”
I was a little taken aback by her intensity. “Yeah, it was nothing but white light.”
Roberta stood up. “But you connected to them?”
I nodded.
“Chelsan, I have to go. You’ve been able to kick me out of your head since you made me look like this. You know that, right?”
I was surprised she knew that, but I nodded anyway.
“Good. Don’t let Elisha in. She can’t have access to the conversation we just had, or everything will be lost.” She looked at me sincerely. “We’ll find you, I promise, but I have to tell Geoffrey about what you did and saw.”
“Wait. Why is connecting to them or seeing light important?” I asked desperately. As much pain as Grams was causing me, I didn’t want to be alone again. In the dark. Underground. “Don’t leave.”
Roberta touched my cheek, and I let her. “I won’t be gone long, but in the mean time, tell Elisha you’re hungry and eat. And practice breaking past the metal. Maybe there’s something you can still use. Something a dead zone has that Elisha isn’t aware of. You’ve surprised us before.” Roberta’s pulled back face didn’t look as monstrous as it normally did. “Time to wake up.”
My eyes opened to darkness.
Back in the coffin.
And I really was starving.
“Food,” my voice was gravelly and full of morning phlegm. I didn’t even know if it was morning. I had no idea what time or day it was. I just knew that two days had gone by, and I was starving. I couldn’t remember being this hungry. I almost didn’t want to eat, the growling in my stomach was so painful it kept my mind off of the fact that I was in a metal box.
“You’re awake,” Elisha’s voice sounded overly loud through the speakers.
“Food,” was all I could say.
It took a few moments before I heard the sloshing of slop coming my way. I sat crosslegged and held my hands out. They were shaking. I wasn’t in good shape. My head was cloudy, my body was weak, and I was freezing. I guess being in a metal box for two days wasn’t good for your health.
The down pouring of sludge splashed into my cupped hands. As soon as they were full I ravaged every drop of the disgusting mixture.
I even licked my fingers. I ate so fast I immediately wanted to throw-up, but I calmed myself enough to keep it down. The last thing I wanted was the smell of vomit in such tight quarters.
I could hear the last of the liquid drain out of the coffin into the dirt below. I stretched my legs and arms as much as I could in the small space. My body was cramped from the cold and the disuse.
I wanted to scream from frustration, but I knew it would make Elisha feel like she was winning. No. I needed to get out of here.
Now.
I lay back down on my back and closed my eyes to concentrate.
“What are you doing?” Elisha’s voice broke the silence.
I debated whether or not to answer her and decided not to.
“Your grandmother may be able to keep me out, but she can’t keep it up forever.” Elisha had a sneer to her voice.
“She’s not keeping you out, I am.” I couldn’t resist.
Elisha sounded so condescending I wanted her to know that I could protect myself against her. Of course, now that she knew the big guns weren’t in my head anymore she might try to jump on in full throttle. I decided I needed to let her try. Otherwise I’d never know if I could really keep her out myself.
Whoa.
I almost smiled.
I could literally feel Elisha trying to butt back into my brain. It was a very strange sensation. Like a small wind trying to push through my skull. And I could recognize Elisha’s stench like a signature. The more I pictured Elisha trying to nestle her way in, the easier it was to keep her out. The brick wall I imagined became stronger and stronger the harder she tried to weasel in.
I wanted to laugh. It felt so good to finally be in control of something. I didn’t realize how being shut down here was not only killing me physically, but mentally as well. Roberta was right. I just needed to imagine the barrier and believe in its power. It was becoming easy to cut Elisha out. So easy, I couldn’t fathom not being able to do it before. I could even file it away knowing she’d never break in.
The Riser Saga Page 54