by Lisa White
“You know, at some point we have to return to reality.” Ben smiled down at her.
“I know,” Grace sighed.
“Vector and Birch are pressuring me to deal with the Anti-Powers and get you back to the Council.”
“I know.”
“But I’m not ready to give you up yet.” Ben’s voice was almost a whisper now.
“I know. And I’m not ready to be given up either.”
Ben leaned back on the grass beside her and stared up at the sky. He pulled her hand to his lips and softly kissed it. “Look, Gracie,” he sighed. “I’ve thought about it and I don’t think I’m too worried about the Anti-Powers now, but the Council … well, that’s another story. I don’t know what they’ll do when we get back but I’m pretty sure I’m in a lot of trouble. And I’m most definitely sure you’re still supposed to be with Tom.”
Grace did not respond but turned her head to join Ben’s gaze up to the sky. A breeze pushed the lilacs around her peripheral vision and their smell swirled around her head.
“So.” Ben continued to stare up at the sky. “I’ve been thinking, whatever the Council decides to do, I’m just going to hang on to us. Like I said the other night … just us. Even if the Council won’t let us be together, they still can’t take away what we have right now, the way we feel. We have each other, together or apart. We have us and, I promise you, no one will ever love you like I do. No matter what happens, remember that, okay?”
A single tear escaped Grace’s eye and she realized she had not breathed since Ben started his declaration. She slowly exhaled, afraid if she spoke more would join that single tear.
Ben turned on his side and leaned into her, his lips now inches away from hers. He wiped away her tear and smiled, “But do you know the one thing that would make us complete?”
Grace shook her head, forcing a smile.
“Our official first kiss.” Ben smiled in return.
Grace’s smile was no longer forced.
“You know, there’s a lot of pressure on a first kiss.” Ben’s smile widened.
“Uh-huh,” Grace nodded.
“So we really need to get this right, don’t we?”
“Yeah.”
“Cause, whatever happens, the memory of this kiss will need to keep us going even when we’re apart.”
“You’ve thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” Grace could not stop smiling now.
“I’ve thought about this kiss for a very, very, very long time. So,” Ben took a deep breath, “I believe there is no better place for such a momentous kiss than this clearing.”
“And no better time than the present,” Grace urged.
With Grace’s implicit permission, Ben’s arms wrapped around her and cradled her as if she were a fragile Faberge egg. He held her close as he brushed her flyaway hair away from her face before leaning down and tenderly kissing her cheek. Grace was almost embarrassed by the roar of her heart’s rhythm but then she felt Ben’s heart beating through his chest with a synchronization that was just as loud as hers. The anticipation, the joy, the thrill of their first kiss that had been years in the making mixed with the lilacs’ smell to make Grace feel almost dizzy. She relaxed into Ben’s arms as his soft lips moved closer to hers. Her eyes were mesmerized by the pureness she found in Ben’s face, in the serene blueness of his eyes and, feeling his breath on her waiting lips, she knew she was about to experience true happiness for the first time in a very, very long time.
“Ahem … Excuse me,” a voice broke into Grace’s dreamlike state and she froze at the realization that they were no longer alone.
Ben released his hold on Grace and sat upright, glaring at the intruder. “What?”
DJ did not even dare look up but, instead, concentrated on the grass surrounding his feet. “I apologize for interrupting but Dave sent me to find you. He needs you to come to the community center.” After a few moments of uncomfortable, silent stillness, DJ finally looked up to meet Ben’s glaring eyes. “Now,” the Misfit with the sometimes super speed grimly asserted without any hint of the embarrassment he showed a few seconds ago.
“This better not be some stupid trick to keep us apart,” Ben whispered to Grace as he helped her to her feet. Their eyes locked for the briefest of seconds and each knew their first kiss was going to have to wait a little while longer. Ben turned to DJ, “Do you know what Dave wants?”
DJ looked guiltily at Grace before leaning into Ben and whispering, “It’s the Anti-Powers. They’re here.”
Chapter Twenty-Two: The Gift
Grace only felt a whoosh of lilac wind as Ben hoisted her onto his back with one hand before sprinting out of the clearing with DJ close behind. She closed her eyes and intended to lean her head into Ben’s shoulder but they arrived at the community center before she knew what was happening. With Grace still on his back, Ben took the front stairs three at a time and burst through the double-door entrance. Only when DJ locked the doors behind them did Ben gently release his hold on Grace. She stood between Ben and DJ, who positioned themselves like sentries at her shoulders. Ben immediately knew something was wrong as he surveyed the massive hall as if seeing it for the first time.
Gone was the elegant ambiance of the other night and in its place hung a dull, thick air. Even the disco ball seemed to have lost its glitter and the only light in the room focused on the center of the dance floor. There, huddled solemnly around a large cardboard box, were the few Misfits Grace could call friends. Petra hung on Dave’s arm, staring down at the box and wiping away tears that would just not quit. Rebecca hovered over her sister Sarah, who knelt beside the box with violent sobs. Even Star, red-eyed and as dull as the air, tried to comfort Sarah with no results.
“What happened?” Ben asked, taking a step closer to Grace.
With bloodshot eyes, Numbers looked at Dave and said, “You tell him.”
Dave stood next to Numbers with arms crossed and a face so grim it unnerved Ben. He didn’t look at Ben, but instead focused on Grace when he said, “We have a situation.”
“What kind of situation?” Ben pressed.
Dave kept his eyes on Grace as he pointed to the box. “Star found this just inside the Trio of Boulders entrance.”
Grace and Ben both started to walk toward the box when Dave yelled, “No, Grace! Don’t come any further! Just Ben. Grace, you stay with DJ.”
DJ reached for Grace’s arm and pulled her back to his side with a gentle force. She stood without moving, without breathing, as Ben continued across the dance floor to Dave. Dave opened the top of the box for Ben, and at that instant, Sarah’s sobs turned into screams as she threw herself face down onto the hardwood floor. Rebecca and Star quickly carried her to a side table where Sarah could continue her laments without the concrete visual of the box’s contents.
“Look in the box, but keep your emotions in check in front of Grace,” Dave whispered his instructions to Ben.
Ben slowly peered down into the box and instantly felt sick to his stomach. There, posed as two lovers kissing, were the decapitated heads of Carrie and Marshall, Vector’s assistant. With their closed eyes and postured lips, they almost looked asleep but for the dried blood encircling the jagged edges of their throats. Without turning around, Ben sternly called back, “Gracie, stay where you are!”
Grace felt every eye in the room on her, but despite her normally paralyzing self-consciousness and Ben’s clear instruction, she wrenched her arm out of DJ’s grasp and ran toward the box.
“Grace!” yelled Ben. “I said no!” Just as she reached the box, he caught her waist from behind and wrapped his arms tightly but gently around her, pulling her back. “You don’t need to see that.”
“What is it?” Grace strained to see inside the box. She seemed afraid and curious all at the same time.
“The Anti-Powers,” Ben replied with trusting honesty. “They … they killed Carrie and Marshall, Vector’s assistant.”
Grace’s head swirled. “Are they in there?�
�� she mumbled, pointing to the box.
“You don’t need to see that,” Ben repeated.
“What’s in the box?” Grace’s voice was not quite a whisper now.
Ben sighed. “Their heads.” He held Grace tighter as her whole body began to shake and her sobs filled the hall’s silence.
“Don’t … let go … of me,” Grace cried between breaths.
“I won’t, sweetie, I won’t.” Ben picked up Grace’s trembling body and carried her to the table where Sarah was finally getting herself under control.
Still in Ben’s arms, Grace looked at Sarah and said between sobs, “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. This is all my fault.”
“Carrie was my best friend.” Sarah looked up at Grace with accusing eyes tinted more with tearful red than sparkling blue.
“I’m sorry,” Grace repeated to Sarah in a whisper. She looked at Ben, “I really am sorry.”
“I know. I know,” Ben said, holding her closer. “It’ll be okay.”
Petra walked over and gently pulled Grace out of Ben’s arms. “Dave needs you,” she whispered to Ben. “Don’t worry. I’ve got her.” Petra helped Grace to a chair right beside Sarah. “I know you two will stay friends,” she said to the two sobbing girls. “I’ve seen it.”
Grace could not see Sarah through her tears but she felt a warm hand on her knee and knew Petra was right.
Ben squeezed Grace’s shoulder. “I’ll be right over here.” He strode over to the box where Dave, Numbers, and DJ were still standing watch over their friends’ severed heads.
“What do you think we should do?” Dave asked Ben.
Ben looked at the three men and their eyes told him he was no longer his father’s son. Now, standing before them, their eyes confirmed Ben was a Power, a full Power, trained by the Council to protect Grace from the Anti-Powers. These grown men were looking to him, depending on him to guide them, so he took a deep breath and instinctively moved into Guardian mode to begin his interrogation. “Have you been able to see what happened?” he asked Dave.
“No,” Dave sighed. “This has all happened so fast … I mean … no one’s ever been murdered here before. I … I tried to see but everything … everything’s so messed up now.”
“Okay.” Ben took a deep breath and switched gears. “Okay, where’s Vector? Does he know yet?”
“No. Birch went to go get him,” Dave said, his eyes now on the box.
“What about Carrie’s brothers?”
Dave looked at Numbers before leaning into Ben and murmuring, “We can’t find them.”
“What do you mean you can’t find them?” Ben’s voice was a strained whisper now.
“I mean we don’t know where they are.” Dave glanced over at Star who was still huddled next to Sarah. “Apparently, Star recently set her sights on Elton, that skinny triplet who gave you such a hard time when you first got here. Well, anyway, she went up to the entrance today to see him and this box was just sitting there. No Elton, no Steve, just this box.”
“You mean no one was guarding the entrance?”
“Exactly.”
Ben’s eyes widened. “For how long?”
Dave cleared his throat. “We don’t know.”
DJ then spoke the words everyone standing around the box was thinking, “In other words, the Anti-Powers could be hiding somewhere inside the Misfit community even as we speak.”
As that realization sunk into Ben’s thoughts, a loud knock pounded on the community center’s front door. “Dave? Petra? Open this blasted door and let me in!” Vector’s voice burst through the bolted entrance. Dave nodded to DJ who quickly crossed the room and unlocked the door. An obviously frustrated Vector hobbled through the door with Birch on his arm. “What’s going on? Birch won’t tell me a thing! Just yanked me out of my lab with those elastic arms of hers like I’m some throw pillow. I was right in the middle of a training session and you know I don’t like leaving my lab in the hands of those young interns. Now what in the blazes is so important?”
Numbers stepped forward. “Vector, something’s happened. We … we have some bad news.”
Vector stopped in his tracks and his eyes immediately flickered on the box. “What kind of bad news?”
Birch gently held Vector’s arm tighter as Numbers placed his hand on the old man’s shoulder. “It’s Marshall. Vector, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Marshall … Marshall’s dead.”
Vector stumbled forward a few steps toward the box. “What? How?”
Dave stepped between Vector and the box. “We think the Anti-Powers did it.”
“Did what?” Vector said as he took his cane and adrenaline and pushed Dave aside. The sight of Marshall’s bloody head in the box caused him to clutch his chest. His eyes rolled back in his head as he stumbled back in obvious pain, unable to catch his breath. His head wobbled and his gasps filled the hall’s silence as he struggled for air.
“Vector!” Birch yelled as her old friend collapsed on the floor right beside the box. “Dave, do something!” she cried. “He’s having another heart attack!”
Dave and Numbers immediately knelt over Vector and began administering CPR. DJ and Ben just stood back in stunned silence, watching their old friend die right before their eyes. No one else in the great hall moved. They just looked on helplessly as DJ and Dave worked furiously over Vector’s lifeless body.
After a few minutes that felt more like a hundred, Petra placed a soft hand on Dave’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, you can stop now. I’ve seen the CPR isn’t going to work. I’m certain of this.” Petra’s voice cracked. “There’s nothing more you can do. He’s gone. Let him go.”
Dave and Numbers looked up at Petra and their rhythm of breaths and chest pumps began to slow as Vector’s death pervaded the room.
“Are you absolutely certain?” Numbers’ tearful eyes pleaded with Petra as he felt Vector’s wrist for a pulse that was no longer there.
“Yes,” she softly said. “The CPR does not bring him back. You need to let him go.”
The stillness in the great hall was deafening. Ten hearts pounding like bass drums stood around the one heart they desperately wanted to hear. No one spoke, no one moved, no one breathed. Death’s shroud blanketed the room and no one knew what to do.
Then, in the midst of the smothering stillness, as if suddenly shocked out of her death trance, Grace yelled through gritted teeth, “No! Not again!” and ran over to Vector. She knelt down and hugged the old man’s frail, limp body to her chest, tears pouring from her swollen bloodshot eyes. “Please, no! Please, Vector, come back! Please! I don’t want anyone else to die because of me! Please come back!” She sat there cradling Vector in her arms, rocking him back and forth with each desperate word. “Come back, Vector. Come on. Please come back,” she loudly whispered with each back and forth motion.
Ben’s eyes moistened to see Grace’s vivid desperation and he knelt beside her. Just as he was about to pull Grace away from Vector’s lifeless body, Ben heard the most wonderful sound.
In the middle of Grace’s frantic rocking, Vector coughed.
It was a small cough, but one that grew louder and stronger with each back and forth motion of Grace’s body until, finally, the coughs turned into breaths. They were sporadic breaths at first, but as Grace held Vector closer, pleading with the old man to take one more breath, then another, his breaths became deeper and deeper until finally, Vector opened his eyes and gasped, “Grace?”
“Yes! Yes, Vector!” Grace exclaimed. “I’m here! You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. Just keep breathing. That’s it. Just keep breathing.” Grace looked up at Ben. “He’s … he’s alive!”
Ben smiled at Grace with disbelief. He then looked up at Petra, questioningly. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders at him in return. Ben quickly scanned the room and every face in there was filled with the same questions that swirled around in his own head.
Every face but one.
Dave stood directly across from Ben
with wide eyes staring at Grace and Vector. His face held no questions but was a mixture of joy and vulnerability all at the same time. He staggered a few steps backwards and fell into a nearby chair.
Petra ran to him. “Dave?”
“I never imagined … I mean … it can’t be. It’s not possible.” Dave stumbled over his words, his wide eyes never leaving Grace’s face.
“What?” Petra leaned down and put her slender arm around her husband’s broad shoulders. “What is it, dear?”
“It’s Grace. She’s not supposed to have any … but she does … she’s … she’s got the Gift,” Dave stammered.
And with those words, Ben knew their lives had just gotten a lot more complicated.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Making Plans
The rocky precipice just inside the entrance to the Misfit community provided an expansive view of the valley below, but it was the underside of the precipice that was the more desirable location this night. Without the watchful eyes of the Boulder Triplets, the sharp ledge’s underside provided a unique hiding place for unwanted visitors who needed to remain anonymous. As the wind from above whipped violently around the precipice, it brushed past the camouflaged soldier crouched below. The warm gush of air sent an odd shiver down the soldier’s back as it ominously whistled through the rocks like a warning bell to stay hidden.
Huddled in the rocks, his eyes strained through the darkness, waiting to catch a glimpse of her. He had followed his leader’s commands to the letter but he did not expect his contact to be so late. His patience was growing thin and he decided to give her five more minutes before reporting back to the princes. It was not his fault she had failed her part of the mission. Surely the princes would understand that. But, being understanding was not one of their virtues so, on second thought, perhaps the soldier should extend his wait to ten minutes. The five minutes more could be the difference between celebrating a successful mission and incurring the princes’ wrath upon his return.
As he pondered his timing, he heard a branch crack a few yards away. He sat still, his trained breathing maintained his silence. If it was her, she would know where to find him.