by Lisa White
• • •
Grace had not spoken for miles and Ben knew she was still processing today’s events. She sat beside him with knees curled up in the front seat, staring out the window. Her shoes were off but she still wore the torn red satin dress from last night. It was getting dark and they had more than a few hours to go before they reached their Appalachian destination. The two–lane highway was winding through the umpteenth backwoods town they had encountered today when Grace finally spoke.
“Do you think we could stop somewhere for the night? I’m really tired of being in this car.” She looked down at the now-blood-stained satin. “And of being in this dress.”
Hearing a slight resemblance to the Grace of a few days ago, Ben smiled. “Sure. Help me look for someplace to stop.”
They drove a little farther and came upon a secondhand store. Ben pulled up to the front door and looked inside. He saw no one other than the sales clerk who was heading toward the door with his keys in hand ready to lock up for the night.
“Stay here and lock the doors behind me,” Ben said as he exited the car.
“Wait. Don’t leave me in here alone.”
“Grace, you’ll be fine. I’m going to run right in and right back out. My eyes will be on you the entire time.” Without waiting for her response, Ben darted into the store and ran past the clerk, his speed preventing the clerk from seeing him enter. He raced through the store, grabbing clothes, a pair of tennis shoes, and a few other things, and was back at the checkout counter before the clerk had time to even place the keys in the door lock.
“Ahem,” Ben cleared his throat.
The sales clerk turned around. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think there was anyone else here. I was just getting ready to close up.” He walked behind the counter and rang up Ben’s items. Seeing the articles of women’s clothing on the counter, he gave Ben a funny look.
“Costume party,” Ben said.
“Oh,” chuckled the sales clerk. “I really didn’t think you looked the type.”
Ben smiled but said nothing more as he paid the sales clerk in cash and picked up his bag. He was back in the car and pulling away before the clerk could lock the door behind him.
“Here you go.” Ben handed Grace the bag. “I had to guess your size so I hope they fit.”
“You’re fast,” said Grace without looking in the bag. “Is … is that your power?”
“One of them.”
“What if that sales clerk had been an Anti-Power?” Grace was still processing what had almost happened to her this afternoon.
“He wasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“He had blue eyes. Anti-Powers never have blue eyes. Their eyes are always green.”
“But how did you know that until you got in the store?” Grace wasn’t understanding.
“Because I saw them from the car. I checked him out before I went in.”
“You could see that far?” Grace asked. Then, comprehending what Ben was saying, she answered herself with, “Oh. Another power — ”
“Gracie, I promise I will never leave you alone unless I know you’re safe.”
Grace looked at Ben. “He could have been wearing blue contacts, you know.”
“Trust me. He wasn’t.” Ben drove the car back onto the same two-lane highway that was now heading toward the outskirts of the small town. Ben searched the road, hoping to find a no-name motel away from the town’s epicenter. “Now let’s get you some place to rest that pretty head.” He smiled at Grace but she didn’t smile back. She looked at him like he was a stranger.
“Gracie, I’m not some circus freak. I’m still Ben, your best friend, remember?”
Grace just nodded and turned her gaze back out her side window.
They passed the Stardust Motel a few miles outside of town. The one story motel only had ten or so rooms and sat on a large river that ran parallel to the highway. The neon sign in front flashed on and off and Ben could see from the fine dust particles covering it that the “No” in front of the word “Vacancy” was seldom operational, if ever. There were only two cars in the parking lot and Ben assumed one belonged to the night desk clerk.
“Does this look good to you?” he asked.
“Sure.” Grace’s voice was monotone.
Ben drove past the motel.
“Wait, where are you going?” asked Grace. “I thought we were stopping.”
“We are. I just need to get rid of this car first.”
“What?”
“Gracie, the Anti-Powers obviously know this car now. We need to ditch it. Don’t worry. I’ve got an idea.” Ben drove about ten miles past the motel and pulled over beside the river. He looked around. No other cars were in sight and night covered the road in darkness. “Okay. This looks good. Get your bag of stuff and go stand behind that tree over there.”
Obviously no longer questioning Ben’s commands, Grace silently did as she was told.
“Stand behind the tree, Gracie. Your dress stands out like a sore thumb in this moonlight,” Ben directed. On any other night, he might have appreciated the romance of the old oak stretching along the riverbank in the moonlight. Tonight, however, the large tree was just a hiding place.
Grace moved behind the tree, shuffling gingerly over the rocky ground beneath her bare feet.
Ben stood behind the car and winked at Grace. With one hand and a movement that barely amounted to a shove, he easily pushed the large Mercedes sedan toward the wide river.
“Wait!” Grace yelled just as the car coasted down the riverbank and completely disappeared under the water.
“What?”
“Oh, never mind,” sighed Grace. “My purse and Annie’s shoes were still in the car.”
“You don’t need your purse anymore and we’ll buy Annie some new shoes,” said Ben, grabbing Grace’s hand and heading toward the motel.
“Ouch,” said Grace. “Slow down. I’m barefooted, remember?”
“No problem.” Ben scooped up Grace and cradled her close to his chest. She felt soft and warm. The same way she felt when that truck almost hit her. In that moment, Ben realized that the only time he was able to hold Grace was when someone was trying to kill her. Not exactly a romantic way to get close to her. But as Grace’s Guardian, romance wasn’t in Ben’s job description. That part of Grace’s life belonged to her Chosen One. That part of Grace belonged to Tom. Ben needed to stop thinking. “Hey, you.” He gave Grace a little squeeze. “Want to experience some speed?”
Before Grace could respond, Ben was sprinting to the motel. His speed helped him forget about Tom. At least for a minute or two. Unfortunately for Ben, the ten–mile trip was far too short. Grace didn’t even have time to lay her head on Ben’s shoulder before they were standing at the motel’s double glass doors at the entrance of the small lobby. A stereotypical bell jingled when Ben pushed open the door and the night desk clerk emerged from the back room. Looking to be in her early sixties with bleached blonde hair and a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth, she narrowed her heavily made-up eyes and gave Grace a once over from behind her counter.
“We don’t rent by the hour,” she brusquely said to Ben.
Glancing over at Grace’s red dress and disheveled appearance, Ben quickly said, “Oh, no. No, it’s not like that. We’ve been driving for a while and need to break up our trip a little. We just need a room for the night.”
“One room or two?” The clerk still eyed Grace who was unsuccessfully trying to hide her bare feet beneath the hem of her long red dress.
Without looking at Grace, Ben replied, “One.”
“That will be fifty-five dollars. Check out is at ten in the morning. Towels and soap are already in your room. Room seven outside and to your right.” The clerk shoved a key and some paperwork across the counter to Ben. “Here. Sign there, initial there and fill in the make and model of your car right here.” Her thick red lipstick was more adhesive than flattering and the dangling cigarette never left her lips while s
he gave Ben his instructions.
“We don’t have a car anymore,” chuckled Ben as he grabbed the key and pushed Grace back out the front door without waiting to hear the clerk’s response. He picked her up again and carried her over the gravel parking lot to a faded blue door denoted with a number seven crookedly hanging by one nail.
“Home sweet home,” he said as he carried Grace over the threshold. The motel room smelled musty like a locked-up basement that had flooded years ago and it was filled with relics dating from the seventies. The television didn’t even have a remote control and its channel dial looked like something found in the Smithsonian. The pattern of the brown and gold bedding on the full-size bed somewhat disguised its old stains, but even those didn’t faze Grace as her eyes went straight to the pillow and mattress with her name on them.
“Let me go. This isn’t a honeymoon,” she said.
Ben gently put Grace down, double-bolted the door behind him, and started rummaging through the thrift store bag. “Here are some shoes, jeans, and a shirt to sleep in. I did the best I could with the time I had.”
“I’m sure it’s fine. I just want to sleep.” Grace took the bag into the bathroom and closed the door. Seconds later she emerged in an oversized tee shirt that hung to her knees. She crawled into the creaky bed. “Where are you sleeping?” she asked as her head sank deeper into the feather-filled pillow.
Ben smiled. “Don’t worry. Your virtue is safe with me. I can hunker down in that chair by the door.” Ben glanced at the stained, gold polyester-covered club chair that didn’t really look like the hunkering down type.
“Still on guard duty?” she sighed.
“I never stop.” Ben closed the curtains on the room’s only window. “Do you want something to eat? You have to be starving.”
“No.” Her voice was soft. “I’m not hungry anymore … not after today … ” Her eyes fluttered.
“Then just get some rest now.” He bent over Grace and pulled the covers up to her chin. “Everything will be okay, Gracie. I promise.” He brushed her hair away from her face, allowing his hand to linger gently on her head.
Grace closed her eyes and, in a matter of seconds, peace finally fell over her face. Ben smiled down at her, grateful to be alone with her even if under these circumstances. He peeked out the closed curtains and quickly surveyed the motel parking lot. Satisfied they were secure for the time being, Ben turned out the light and tried to get comfortable in the chair. He didn’t intend to sleep and didn’t realize how tired he was until he subsequently woke up at the sound of Grace’s stirring a few hours later.
“Gracie?” Ben twisted out of his contorted sleep position caused by the polyester chair. The clock radio on the bedside table glowed and its florescent digits indicated it was two o’clock in the morning.
“Yeah. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
Ben sought out Grace’s face in the room’s darkness. “No. It’s okay. What’s wrong?”
“I can’t get back to sleep.” Her voice was soft and childlike.
“Well, can I get you anything?” Ben leaned out of his chair, his tired eyes still trying to focus on Grace’s face in the dark.
“Can you … can you make things like they were before?”
“Before?” Ben paused. “Things haven’t really changed, Grace.”
“Just for me,” she sighed.
They sat in silence for a while staring into the musty darkness.
“Ben,” Grace whispered. “Why are they after me? I don’t have any powers.”
Ben’s voice almost cracked. She still didn’t realize her importance. “Gracie, you have the greatest power of all.” He paused. “You have the power of life.”
“Life? What do you mean?”
“Your family’s DNA, your DNA, is the central component needed for a Power to exist. Every Power has one parent who is a Power and another parent who comes from the Family. Your family.”
“I don’t understand.”
Ben took a deep breath. “If a Power and another Power have a child, that child is born human. If a Power and an ordinary human have a child, that child is human. But if a Power and someone in your family have a child, that child will most definitely be born a Power. The Council discovered this genetic link a very, very long time ago and have been playing matchmaker between the Family and the Powers ever since. Without your family, the Family, the Powers would eventually become extinct.”
“But why are the Anti-Powers after me?”
Ben had been dreading this question and wished Tom or someone else could be there to answer it. But there was no avoiding it now. Time to face the music. He took a deep breath. “Because, Gracie, six months ago you became the last surviving member of your entire family line. You are the last member of the Family.”
Grace whimpered in the darkness, “Why? How?”
“We don’t know why but the Anti-Powers murdered the only other known member of your family. He was some distant cousin or something like that from Italy. Anyway, now that you’re twenty-two, your DNA is what we call ripe. If they capture you, they can use you to fill the world with Anti-Powers and enslave the human race. You are it, Gracie. You are the beginning and the end of the Powers … and the humans.”
Grace was silent. The hum of the clock radio beside the bed provided the soundtrack to her thoughts.
“Gracie, are you okay?” Ben’s voice took over the clock radio’s hum.
Grace’s pain crawled through the darkness. “Can … can you hold me?”
“Uh … sure.” Ben freed himself from the binding chair and used his night vision to make his way through the dark room to the other side of the bed. He stretched out on top of the bedcovers beside Grace, trying not to get too close, but not wanting to be too far away. He reached behind her shoulders and her head naturally fell into the crook of his arm. She turned toward him and curled up into a tight ball right next to him, burying her face into his chest. The sudden dampness on Ben’s shirt prompted him to wrap his arm tighter around Grace’s shaking shoulders.
“Ben,” Grace cried. “Gregory has green eyes.”
“I know.” Ben stared at the ceiling, his heart aching with Grace’s tears. “I know.”
Chapter Thirteen: Eyes
When Grace woke the next morning, for a fleeting few seconds she felt normal. Back to the way she was. The stereotypical struggling waitress. But then she remembered. Gregory. Her birthday party. The black sedan. The twins. The bloody arm. Being the last living person of her entire family line. She looked up to see Ben staring down at her, his arm still cradling her.
“Hey,” he said with a hesitant smile.
“Hey.” She slowly sat up. “Did you sleep?”
“Not too much. I’m not really a big sleeper.” Ben stood up and gently tossed the bag of clothes from the thrift store to Grace. “Here, Sleeping Beauty. Get dressed. We need to get some food in you before we hit the road again.”
Grace carried the bag into the bathroom and closed the door. Crumpled in the corner, behind the bathroom door, lay her red satin dress. The red satin dress that had made her feel pretty. The red satin dress she wore with Gregory. The red satin dress stained with the Anti-Power’s blood. For a few minutes she just stood there staring at the dress, her mind reliving the new reality that had invaded her safe normal world. Last night she couldn’t wait to get away from that dress. This morning she couldn’t take her eyes off it. When she felt the tears welling up again, she closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath.
Shake it off, Grace. Get it together.
She turned her back to the dress and faced the mirror. For the first time in two days, Grace looked at herself. Really looked at herself. Her smudged mascara and bedhead hair were going to have to go. After taking a long, hot shower and putting on her new–but–used thrift store jeans, fitted tee shirt, and tennis shoes, she threw her long, brown hair back in a ponytail using a rubber band she found in the trash. Of course her flyaway strands fell around her face like the
y always did and she instinctively started to pull them back again.
But then it hit her.
She was not at the club. Julian was not going to assess her hair today or tomorrow or even the next day. Her flyaway hair, her job, her hopes for college, none of that mattered anymore and Grace briefly wondered if anything from her past life would ever matter again. It was as if the only thing she had left was Ben.
She purposefully pulled the misbehaving strands of hair out of her ponytail and allowed them to wildly fly all over her face. She took one last look at the red satin dress crumpled on the floor before she exited the bathroom.
“Feel better?” Ben asked when Grace emerged from the bathroom.
“A little,” she said softly.
“Hop on.” Ben bent over and pointed to his back. “I saw an all-night diner across the street from the thrift store last night and everybody knows all-night diners have the best breakfasts. So let’s go.”
“What do you mean hop on?”
“Grace, we have no car, remember? I’m now your only transportation to breakfast. I’ve already checked out of this swanky joint so come on. I’m starving.”
Grace’s brow knitted together but she did as she was told. She hopped onto Ben’s back and before she knew it, they were out the door speeding toward the middle of town. She held on tightly to Ben, wrapping her arms around his neck and chest and her legs around his waist. He ran so nimbly, her ride was as smooth as floating on a sailboat. They glided through the air, unseen by all they passed on the road. Grace liked being invisible and was glad that speed was one of Ben’s powers.
They arrived at the diner with a swoosh of air at the front door. Ben entered first and paused in the doorway. Grace had never seen him in Guardian mode, or if she had, she had not known it at the time. His face was serious as he quickly scanned the restaurant before allowing Grace to enter. He then chose a booth in the left back corner and sat against the wall, eyes glued to the front door. “How’s this?” he asked.
“Fine.” Grace finally smiled.
Ben smiled back. “You look better this morning.”