“Why do you need to write anything down at all?”
Six glanced at the pad and back up at me, her pupils expanding and shrinking in a steady rhythm. I was beginning to think the pupil activity was her accessing The Octad hive mind. My scalp prickled. It was as if seven other people were in the room with us. I hoped my expression didn’t reveal anything. Most especially not the fact that I’d had a vision of Black Gaea.
Her first question surprised me. “You left your family for several years before returning this past fall. How did you manage to suppress your abilities during that time?”
“Um, well,” I stammered, “um, I really didn’t want to use them at all, especially around normals, so I didn’t. Mostly.”
“Until the bank robbery. Where you used your abilities in front of several normals.”
“Where I saved several people. And no one suspected anything.” My confusion over this line of questioning was rapidly turning into annoyed defensiveness.
“But you found you couldn’t control your abilities and you returned to your family.”
“It wasn’t like I was an orphan, you know.” I cocked my head, wondering what she was digging for. “I had my dad around.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Or don’t you consider the normal parent good enough for family?”
Six wrote on her pad of paper, not looking at me as she answered. “Normals are fine, but not adequate guardians for supernormal children. Especially one of your bloodline.”
“Hey, don’t diss my father. You don’t know anything about him.” Inside my head, I wondered what she meant by bloodline.
“Samuel Andrew Woodson, born in 1975, in Richmond, Virginia. He moved to Oregon to attend the University of Oregon where he met and married Emily Cora Brighthall. They had one child, Olivia Emily Woodson. Emily Brighthall died in the line of duty while stopping Mountain of Ash from destroying a building that would have killed several schoolchildren. Including you.”
My mouth had dropped open at the beginning of her recitation; she sounded like she was reading from a Wikipedia article. While she spoke, her eyes stayed dilated the entire time.
Creeped out and irritated, I said, “Stop – you don’t know anything about it. My dad is awesome. I don’t care if he’s not a supernormal. That doesn’t mean I went all evil and helped Emma escape. Don’t you know what she wants to do to normals? She wants to kill most of them. And she was raised by a supernormal parent.”
Six put down her pen and folded her hands together. She stared in my direction, but I didn’t think she saw me. Her freaky eyes were expanding and contracting more rapidly than before and I wondered if my outburst had broken her somehow.
After a moment, she nodded and focused on me, her eyes back to their usual slow pulsation. “You may go now.”
I gaped at her. “Aren’t you going to ask stuff like where I was when Emma escaped?”
“No, we don’t think you had anything to do with your cousin’s escape.”
“Why not?” I couldn’t think of anything I’d done to convince her otherwise.
“You care about normals too much to help Emma Brighthall and, by extension, Mountain of Ash.” Six picked up her low tech tools and slid them into her satchel.
“Huh.” I sat for a moment, still amazed by Six’s sudden decision. “Well, good. So you’ll leave us alone now?”
Six shook her head. “The rest of your family is still under suspicion.”
“What, why?” I stood up, indignant.
Six strode to the door and opened it. “This interview is over.”
Chapter 7
I leaned in the doorway of my training room, watching as Six walked back to Aunt Kate to explain that the Brighthalls were still under suspicion. From my aunt’s sour expression, I decided she’d expected the news.
I didn’t relish listening to Six lob continued accusations at my aunt, so I decided to remove any traces of the interrogations from my training room. I folded the chairs up and laid them on the table. I gripped the back of the chair on top, closed my eyes and tried to calm my thudding heart. Thoughts swirled around my head. How could Six believe any of the Brighthalls helped Emma escape? Why had Emma escaped? How had she escaped? Was she coming back to Portland? Was she bringing Black Gaea and the others with her? Why was I having visions?
I took a shuddering breath as fear weighed heavy on my chest. Would another person I loved die because of Mountain of Ash?
I felt a flash of heat from my hands, which were suddenly empty, and sweat broke out on my forehead. I opened my eyes, expecting to see smoke from a burning table filling the room. Instead, little wisps of smoke drifted up from a pile of settling ashes where the wooden table and chairs had been. I gaped at the remains in shock. I’d never burned up something so quickly and so completely. The table and chairs were gone in an instant.
When I found out I had the fire ability, the same ability as my grandfather, Uncle Dan had told me some fire starters were so powerful they could create enough heat to flash burn whatever they wanted to ashes in seconds. These fire starters earned the name disintegrators. It was an awesome ability, requiring a lot of training to learn how to control the level of fire necessary for whatever type of burn desired.
I looked at my hands, turning them over a few times to see if they displayed any signs of the high level of heat I must have produced. Nope, no change.
I let them fall to my sides, gazing at the pile of ashes crumbling into dust.
I was a disintegrator. As far as I knew, I was the first in my family. Grandfather wasn’t one or Uncle Dan would have used it as motivation to push me harder in training.
Riding on a high of excitement, I started out to tell Aunt Kate the news. I hesitated at the training room door. Six was still talking to Aunt Kate, with Zoe and Kevin lurking in the background. Aunt Kate looked impassive, but my cousins wore twin expressions of indignation. As I watched, Aunt Kate gave Six a short nod, her jaw clenching as if she was holding back her comments. Zoe started to speak, but Aunt Kate held up her hand in a “stop” gesture. Zoe frowned but kept quiet.
I stayed where I was. I was sure everyone would see my excitement over my discovery and I didn’t want Six to know. She already knew enough about the Brighthalls – I wasn’t ready to share anything else with her.
I waited as Six hitched her satchel over her shoulder and announced she would be back tomorrow. “We expect to be included in all activities. We need full transparency to determine the Brighthalls’ connection with Emma Brighthall’s escape.”
“If there is one.” Aunt Kate’s words were cold with suppressed anger.
Six gave her a regal nod. “If there is one.” She didn’t wait for an answer before turning for the door.
Aunt Kate frowned as she watched Six leave and Zoe stepped to her mother’s side, whispering furiously.
I caught the end of Zoe’s rant when I got about halfway across the warehouse.
“…not fair. And I can’t believe you told her where Lange and Uncle Alex are. You know they both just want to be left alone.”
Lange, Zoe’s older brother, was working in Death Valley at one of the monster habitats. We’d seen him a few weeks ago when he’d come along on a creature pick-up.
Uncle Alex would be harder to track down, since all we knew was that he was at a silent meditation retreat, though we didn’t know the location. Aunt Kate or Uncle Dan might know, but I doubted they did since they usually respected their youngest brother’s needs around dealing with his ability. If he wanted to be incommunicado, then he could be. Aunt Rebecca was certain to know how to reach him, but she guarded his well-being more than anyone else did.
“Zoe, you’re right. It’s not fair, but look at it from The Council’s perspective. They have to consider every possibility.” Aunt Kate gave me a nod. “Hello, Olivia. Six said she cleared you.”
“Yeah, but not the rest of the family, which is totally stupid.” My frustration over that turn of events bubbled up again, but I was still bursting t
o tell my news.
“Seriously, it’s just so wrong.” Zoe looked at me with suspicion. “What’s up with you? You look all bouncy like you’re happy.”
I couldn’t help grinning. “Okay, so totally the wrong time, but guess what just happened?”
“What?” Zoe asked with irritation while Kevin leaned forward in his chair to gaze at me.
I flung my arms out, announcing, “I’m a disintegrator!”
“Really?” Aunt Kate perked up, her expression changing from concern to interest. She grabbed her iPad and started poking at the screen.
Zoe grinned and high-fived me. “Nice job.”
Kevin favored me with a rare smile. “How did it happen?”
I sobered, remembering what lead me to kill the furniture in my training room. “I was upset about Six and Emma. Just all the crap that was happening. I decided to clean up my room. Get rid of the furniture. And, well, I sort of permanently got rid of the furniture.” I felt a pang of remorse over destroying the table and chairs. “Sorry about that.”
Aunt Kate ‘hmmmed’ to herself as she typed. “So you were upset. That lines up with the research.” She took on her lecturing voice. “You see, while abilities don’t increase once they manifest, there is still a period of adjustment where we look for the full extent of an ability. Usually that period lasts about six to eight months after manifestation, and then your ability settles into its mature state.”
“Oh my God, Mom. We know all this!” Zoe rolled her eyes. “I want to see Ollie do her thing.”
“Yeah!” Kevin looked excited, almost like his old, pre-death-of-Hugh self. “Talk about an easy way to dispose of evidence.” His grin made a joke out of his statement.
Aunt Kate looked up with a faint frown of concentration. “Oh, naturally so do I.” She stood up. “Come on, we’re not having a demonstration out here. Last thing we need right now is to burn down the warehouse and have Six decide we’re hiding evidence,” she said wryly.
Zoe snorted and I laughed aloud. Enthusiasm was already surging through me. I was ready to show off. I grabbed a cushion from the couch. Aunt Kate shook her head and detoured to get several of the towels from the weights area. She pointed to the couch and I set the cushion back on it.
Back in my training room, I waved for my audience to stay outside. Inside the room, I opened a panel and pressed a few buttons to slide open the wall, revealing an observation window. Since not everyone was fireproof like my grandfather and me, he’d designed the room to include windows so others could watch safely. I also activated the cameras to record the demonstration – Aunt Kate had added those around Christmas so she could track my progress.
I shut the door and piled the towels in the middle of the room. Taking a deep breath, I pointed my hand at the fluffy material and thought about extreme heat. For a moment, I wondered if I could create the high level of heat without being furious, but it came easily as if my ability was ready to expand to its fullest extent. The cotton flashed white hot with tinges of blue before turning to a pile of smoldering dust in seconds.
“Cool!” Kevin shouted from outside the room.
I opened the door. “Neat, right?”
“The table and chairs were wood. The towels were cotton.” Aunt Kate ticked off on her fingers. “Zoe, run and get some metal – iron, steel, whatever we have.” She gave me a calculating look. “I want to see where the threshold for heat is.”
Zoe darted off and was back in seconds, holding an iron 5 lb. weight.
I took the weight and shut the door. Setting the weight on the floor, I considered how much heat it would take to turn iron to dust. More than it took to disintegrate wood or cotton. My stomach felt hollow with nerves. Could I generate enough heat? Had I been premature in declaring I was a disintegrator?
My back to the window, I bit my lip, then rolled my shoulders to loosen them. I shook out my hands and blew out my breath before focusing on the weight. Okay, quick, really, really hot heat. Make it fast. I held my hands over the iron like a spiritual healer. Resisting the urge to close my eyes as if that would help me concentrate, I thought hard about fire. I felt warmth in my belly – building, building until I gasped at the level of heat I was holding inside my body. I directed it all out of my hands at the weight. Within seconds, the iron changed to dust. I sagged to my knees, breathing deeply, the smell of scorched iron filling my nostrils. Little pops of cooling dust came from the pile on the floor.
After a moment, I heard Kevin and Zoe whooping from outside. I got to my feet and opened the door, grinning tiredly.
“Well done, Olivia.” Aunt Kate smiled at me. “Dan will be excited about how extensive your ability is. He’ll also be annoyingly smug, since he predicted it might go to this level.” Aunt Kate set down her iPad with an amused expression, which rapidly changed to a frown.
My emotions dove from exhilaration to gloominess. Just hearing my uncle’s name reminded me of my family’s current situation – under suspicion for aiding and abetting Emma’s prison break. Zoe and Kevin wore similar glum expressions, drained of their enthusiasm over my ability.
Aunt Kate sighed and ran a hand through her short hair. “I think it’s time we all went home.” She picked up her tablet and got to her feet. “And Olivia, you should inform Sam of Emma’s escape.” Aunt Kate gave me a direct look and a half-smile. “I promised him we would keep him in the loop.”
“I don’t like him worrying, though.”
Aunt Kate’s half-smile turned into a full smile and she laughed. “You’re about fourteen years too late for that, kiddo.”
As I gathered my things to leave, I thought about how Emma would react to my full ability. Considering her reaction to me getting our grandfather’s ability had been to go into full-on evil mode, I bet she would hate this so much more.
When I got home, Dad was cooking dinner – my favorite, spaghetti and meat sauce. I stood in the kitchen doorway, watching him set a pot under the faucet and fill it with water. Holding the pot, he turned to set it on the stove and jerked when he saw me. The pot bobbled in his hands and I leapt to steady it.
“Olivia, you’re late. I expected you home an hour ago.” Dad set the pot on the stove and turned on the heat.
“Sorry, we had a visitor at the warehouse.” I sat down at the big farmhouse table filling one side of the kitchen. “Did Mom ever mention The Octad?”
“It doesn’t sound familiar.” Dad got a faraway look in his eyes as if he was sorting through what Mom had told him about the supernormal world. He shook his head. “No, never heard of The Octad. Who or what is it?” Dad dipped a spoon into the simmering tomato sauce and pulled it out to taste. He licked his lips with a critical air and added some basil.
“I guess they are sort of investigators.” There was a spot of water on the table and I ran my finger through it to draw shapes on the wooden surface. “There are eight of them.”
“Hence the name.” Dad grabbed red pepper flakes out of the spice rack and sprinkled some into the sauce. “Could you grate the cheese?” He gave the sauce a few stirs. “What are they investigating?”
I got up and pulled out the parmesan cheese from the fridge. The grater was already set up on the counter. “Well, not only are there eight of them, they’re also octuplets.” I ran the cheese over the rough holes with vigorous strokes.
“That’s unusual.” He grinned. “I realize unusual is relative in your world.”
I didn’t return his grin. Instead, I frowned moodily as I continued to grate cheese. “Yeah, well, it gets weirder. The Octad are a hive mind. That’s their significant ability,” I explained, referring to the supernormal ability we got when we turned thirteen.
“A hive mind? What’s that?”
“They share thoughts.” I ran the last little bit of cheese over the grater and ate the sliver that remained.
“Like Ben?” Dad asked softly, his voice gentle. He paused, holding spaghetti noodles in one hand, peering at my face.
I swallowed and manage
d to say in a steady voice, “Not exactly. They can only share thoughts with each other.”
“Okay, the Octad came to the warehouse?” Dad prompted as he slid noodles into the boiling water.
“Oh…well, just one.” I paused, thinking; if one Octad is in your presence, then I figured they all were, in a way. “Um, she calls herself Six,” now I did manage to smile, “though Zoe annoyed her by using her real name, Gabriele.”
“And what did Six want?” Dad picked up the tasting spoon.
I stopped smiling. “She accused us of helping Emma escape from prison.”
Dad dropped the spoon on the floor with a clatter. “Emma escaped?” His voice shook and I stared at him, alarmed by how afraid he looked.
“Ah, yeah, I guess I should have led with that news.” I hugged him. “Please don’t be scared.”
Dad hugged me back before letting me go. “Olivia, it’s my job to be scared when my daughter,” he gave me a stern look, “despite her abilities, is in danger.” He bent down to pick up the spoon. “I know better than to lock you in your room to keep you safe, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to, just a bit.” He placed the spoon in the sink, his expression bleak.
I felt a pang of sadness; Dad had to deal with so much anxiety because of my heritage.
“So you said this Six thinks you all helped Emma.” The buzzer went off, indicating the pasta was ready. Dad lifted the pot off the stove and drained the contents into the strainer in the sink. I turned off the burner.
“Yeah, she questioned us separately and everything.” I got out plates and set them on the countertop. “But she cleared me. I guess I like normals too much.”
“But she didn’t clear Kate and the others?” Dad was good at picking up subtext.
“No, it’s so stupid. None of us would help Emma. Six wasn’t under the bridge, so she doesn’t know what we went through.”
Dad handed me the pasta spoon and I scooped out a large serving. One advantage of a being a supernormal, especially one trained by Uncle Dan, was the ability to eat as much as I wanted without gaining weight.
Root Page 7