An unexpected voice sounds in my ear.
“I’m quite sure he was murdered too,” whispers Zach.
“Why do you say that?” I ask.
“He taught my dad at school. My dad said he was the kind who dines on raw eggs for breakfast and never dresses beyond the usual male color palette. If you look at pictures of the incident, you can see fragments of a teddy bear with purple polka dots. He lived all alone, so I can’t imagine a reason why it would be in his home.”
I smirk.
“And you think the murderer dropped a teddy bear?” he asks.
“No, that’s ridiculous.”
“Of course.”
“No, clearly the government must have sent an explosive device disguised inside the teddy bear.”
I’m speechless. I’ve heard some out-there theories before, but a teddy bear as a murder weapon?
“So I make a point never to receive a stuffed animal from anyone. One can’t be too careful.”
“Right.”
We keep searching papers, but there is nothing about my father.
“Maybe there’s something on his computer,” Zach says as he goes over to the desk.
“Not sure if you should do that,” comes a voice from behind us.
We turn to see Shelly standing in the doorway.
Aaron punches my arm. “You couldn’t have noticed that?”
“I was focused on the paper,” I say.
Shelly crosses her arms. “What are you doing here?”
“Your dad wrote the file for my dad and made him an Unsound.”
Shelly covers her mouth in shock, then shakes her head. “If you’re trying to find out anything about GEMO, you won’t. I’ve searched his office before.”
I nod.
“You’ve got to go before—don’t do that!”
An alarm blares through the house. Zach jumps away from the desk.
I turn towards Zach. “What did you do?”
Zach trembles. “Just turned on the computer. Sorry.”
“Get out of here!” Shelly yells. “That alarm is synced with Dad’s phone!”
We dash down the stairs. I stumble on the bottom step and squash Zach’s foot. His wings fly open knock over a zebra statue, which smashes into a million pieces. We keep running. In seconds, we’re at the front door and on the lawn.
“Maybe you should fly,” I say as best as I can through my huffing and puffing.
“Can’t, don’t remember where we parked,” Zach responds.
“Thankfully I do!” Aaron yells.
We hustle into the car and he cranks the key.
“Come on, Julie, start baby!” he begs.
The car sputters for a bit. Aaron breathes a deep sigh, and then bangs on the wheel. It starts.
“I’ll have to remember that trick,” Aaron says.
He pulls the car out and onto the main road. We swerve through the woods at a blinding rate. I hold tightly to the door to prevent being thrown out of my seat as Aaron turns to take us back to Gardenview. Speeding down the main road, there’s a sense of calm. We made it out without getting caught.
Red and blue lights flash against the rear view mirror. It’s the police. Did his alarm send a signal for them to wait for us? We look like burglars. What excuse could we possibly have for breaking into Maddock’s home?
Aaron doesn’t say anything to me. He shakes his head with a scowl. Zach starts tearing up in the back seat. A twinge of guilt hits me for putting them in this situation.
The policeman taps the window and Aaron lowers it. His voice booms like it’s the voice of God come to punish us. “Good evening, boys. In a hurry?”
Aaron can hardly speak. “Yes, well no, well, we wanted to get home.”
“I see,” the policeman says. “I’ve seen this before. Boys going out for a joy ride. Macho rite of passage. Trying to impress your girlfriend there?”
He points at me and I try to bury myself in the seat.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Aaron says. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“You switched it to manual and drove 20 miles over the speed limit. Come on, you know what you were doing.”
There’s a loud hum as Maddock’s car comes racing towards us on the other side of the road.
Please don’t stop, please don’t stop.
He zips past us.
The officer grumbles. “People tonight. This road isn’t a drag strip.”
The whole situation has me on edge. I wipe a bead of sweat from my face. Zach is bawling in the back seat.
“I really should write you a ticket,” he says.
“Yes sir,” Aaron says.
“However,” the officer says, adjusting his belt. “I’m feeling generous tonight. But don’t let me catch you again.”
Zach leans forward, his tears streaming from his eyes like fountains. “We are forever in your debt, kind sir.”
The officer suppresses a laugh, then walks away. Aaron rolls up the window. Thankfully, Julie cranks up on the first try and we start driving again. We’re a mile down the road when I see him crack a smile, which then turns into a snicker. “Next time, Rose, let’s go in with a better plan.”
Next time? I guess there will have to be a next time. We didn’t find out much. After the risk and nearly getting in huge trouble, we came out empty, except for a few photos on my phone. Maybe Jex will find them helpful.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I sit at my desk, and wait for a text from Jex to let me know he found something in the pictures. Nothing yet. Today we begin our preparation for the Standard Knowledge Test, or SKT. It’s what the good universities use to determine if you have the intelligence to be a part of their school. Elevateds want to get a good score too, although some rare powers make it easy to get into their programs. Having a brain-related ability makes the test even more difficult. Those Elevateds are required to take specialized tests, as their scores would otherwise be off the charts. But just because your brain processes information quickly doesn’t mean you know how to use it.
“Before we begin,” says Miss Laura. “I have an announcement to make. Today we will be joined by fellow classmates from the Undetermined group.”
Aaron leans over. “Lessers.”
I smack his arm. He knows I hate that term.
“These students do not know their ability, and some may not develop one. So, I ask that each of you behave courteously towards them. Alright?”
The class voices their agreement. Miss Laura leaves the room and after a few minutes, returns with a group of students. I notice Lillia enter and I wave her over. Her face lights up and she takes the seat next to mine.
“Nice to see you here,” I say and I immediately kick myself. Stupid. Here she is, unaware of her ability or what it could be. Of course it’s not nice to be here.
She gives a worn out sigh. “Glad to be here too. It was getting depressing in the other class.”
I can only imagine. Sitting there watching others develop powers while you can’t get anywhere had to be incredibly frustrating.
***
It’s the end of the day and I still haven’t received a message from Jex. Any hope of receiving information is disappearing by the second.
Class ends and we head out to the hallway. Shelly stands by the door, as if waiting for us to tell her something. Aaron storms past her as if she doesn’t exist. I just give a shake of my head. She nods sadly and exits the room behind us. I should be grateful she didn’t rat us out to her father, but I don’t like feeling like I owe her something now.
Lillia gently tugs on my arm. “Is she still upset about being a Flier?”
I explain what I can, minus the breaking into her house part.
“I’ve decided that I can’t worry,” Lillia says. “I don’t know what I have, but I know it’s not important.”
I put my arm around her shoulder. “You don’t know that. Some great powers develop later. Like, you could be a Regenerator, or maybe a Resilient. They don’t test
for that. I mean, how could they? Can’t exactly set you on fire and see if you don’t burn.”
Lillia pushes my arm off. “You don’t have to make me feel better, Rose. I’ve learned to live with my situation.” She says it bravely, but her face shows how conflicted she feels. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She turns away and heads down the hallway.
Aaron shakes his head. “You shouldn’t give people false hope.”
“False hope? We don’t know—”
“We don’t know, that’s right. But the odds are stacked against her. Most Undetermineds at this stage won’t develop an amazing power.. Maybe she has some sort of weird ability that hasn’t come up yet, but she needs to focus on the now. On the SKT. We all do,” he says.
“I don’t believe in giving up.”
“And I don’t believe in living in a lie.”
I sigh. This conversation will only get worse if I continue. Aaron can be so stubborn.
I change the subject. “Have you heard from—”
“Jex?” Aaron responds. “No.”
“I was really hoping that—” I stop myself mid-sentence. Aaron smiles too broadly. There’s that false hope again. I can’t stand the sight of him anymore. I quickly turn and head out of the school. My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Elliott:
“Want to help me practice my power?”
Thrilled to have something to distract me from my frustration at my lack of progress, I text back to pick me up from school. Mom’s bound to be excited that I’m hanging around someone besides Aaron.
I know I am.
***
Even if I didn’t know Elliott lived with his grandmother, his house would give it away in an instant. All the furniture dates back to a quainter time, before GEMO was even a thought in the world. A dusty collection of wood-carved animals line the mantelpiece above the fireplace.
“Next time,” Elliott says as he places an empty terrarium on the coffee table, “tell me before you decide to become a felon.”
I prop my feet up on the table. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble. Besides, I doubt that Jex would appreciate having someone around who could zap him into a mutant.”
Elliott pushes my feet off. “I don’t appreciate Jex sending you on a mission like that. Why doesn’t he go?”
“He thinks the government is after him.”
“Wonder why. The man is a kook.”
I open the box of a hundred crickets and pull out a few to put into the terrarium, then seal it shut. “He’s been very helpful.”
“But what’s in it for him?” he asks.
“He wants to help me find my father,” I say.
He places a lid on top. “You sure that’s all?”
“Probably thinks he can get a good story for his blog or something. Government cover-up and all.”
“Hmmm.”
I turn towards the terrarium. “I thought I was over here to help you practice your powers.”
“Right. Up until this point, I’ve only been to zap things when I’ve been angry.”
I nod in agreement.
Elliott pauses. “So make me angry.”
“What?”
He laughs. “In the interest of science, of course.”
“I can’t make you angry on purpose.”
“We have to figure this out.”
I don’t know how to begin. I can’t remember the last time I consciously set out to make someone angry. Except Mr. Roberts. I try to make him angry a lot. But I doubt Elliott would be that upset if I put his shirts in the wrong color order.
I try my best. “You, you eat like a pig.”
Elliott stares.
“You’re too worried about what your grandmother says. Kind of a wimp actually.”
Elliott still has a blank expression. “That’s all you have?”
“Sorry.”
“What happened to that feisty jerk who insulted me back on Elevation Day?” he says with a wink.
I giggle. There must be something I can do. I look around his living room. I need something to work with. I see a pennant on the wall. “What sports do you watch?”
“Spikeball mostly. Lynxes fan, through and through.”
“Lynxes? Ha. Must be embarrassed after last season. You guys got slaughtered. It was awful. I’ve seen cheerleaders tougher than those sad excuses for men. And that stupid color combo, what are they thinking? Orange and fuschia?”
“Can you stop?” he asks.
“Why, getting mad?”
“No, I’m trying not to laugh. You’re terrible at this.”
“I’m trying my best.”
We need to think of a new strategy. Clearly, making him angry isn’t something I can do on cue. Thinking fast, I take off my shoe and throw it at his head. It smacks him in the face with a thud.
“Ouch!” he yells. “What was—”
I point to his hand, which is now glowing. “Elliott, your hand!”
He stares down at his glowing blue hand.
“Focus on the energy,” I say. “Being angry pumps up your adrenaline, which brings up your power.”
He takes the lid off as a burst of light comes out of his hand. We’re both blasted onto his couch.
He picks himself up and rubs his head. “That really hurt.”
“Sorry,” I say as we approach the table. “Picked the wrong day to wear my boots.”
We watch the crickets in the terrarium. Their small size makes it a little hard to see abilities, but at least they’re bigger than ants. And every other animal in the pet store was far too cute for our experiment.
As we observe them, I wonder how long it will take us to notice an effect. But it doesn’t take but a few minutes before we see our first Elevated cricket. His jumps have multiplied tenfold and he keeps bouncing off the walls. Another cricket develops bird-like wings similar to a Flier’s. Another glows bright green. The other few crickets have no noticeable change. We watch them for a moment, moving around. Elliott has a big smile on his face. There must be something rewarding about having that much power, manipulating animals like that.
“What next?” I ask.
“We have to get rid of this batch first.”
As much as I hate crickets, his tone seems callous. I cock my head. “Get rid of them?”
“Sure, can’t exactly have crazy crickets roaming around. Somebody might notice.”
I can’t argue with him. We don’t know anything about the last few crickets. Who knows how their powers might develop. To release them into the wild could have major complications. And might lead the government towards our secret.
“Just do it out of my sight,” I say.
Elliott nods and takes the terrarium out of the room. In a few minutes, he returns with it empty.
“Can we load in one this time?” I ask. “No need killing a bunch of crickets if we’re practicing your power.”
“Better make it two, just in case,” he says.
Two is better than nine, at least. I place them into the terrarium, feeling guiltier this time around.
Elliott closes the lid. His breathing gets more rapid as he tries to pump himself up.
“Why not try jumping jacks?” I suggest.
“Good idea,” he says.
He begins doing jumping jacks. He reaches around thirty-five when his hands start flashing blue again. Elliott’s face contorts into a pained expression, probably from trying to force the energy into his hand. He lifts the lid and a blast of blue light bursts out. This time, the energy wave is more contained, and we keep ourselves upright, though it knocks us a few steps backwards.
Elliott replaces the lid and we lean down at the table again to study the crickets. Nothing happens for a few minutes.
“Maybe that wasn’t a strong enough charge,” Elliott says.
We keep watching and eventually we see it. One of the crickets knocks into the other, which glows bright with embers. It’s a Sparker like Mr. Roberts. It immediately zaps the other, who falls dead. I tu
rn away.
“Whoa,” Elliott says, fascinated by the carnage. “He got disintegrated.”
“Yeah, with electricity.” I think about turning my head back, but my stomach reminds me not to look.
“No, I mean the electric cricket disintegrated. The other one must have like acidic blood or something. They’re both dead now,” Elliott says, as if commentating a sporting event.
I keep my head facing the sofa. “Can you clean it please?”
“Sure thing,” Elliott says, picking up the terrarium and taking it over to the other room. “Oh no.”
Reflexively, I snap back, and squint in fear of what I can see. The terrarium now has a mound of black mush that I’m guessing is the former crickets. Thankfully, it’s not distinguishable as much of anything. Elliott points to the table, where a small hole burned through the wood. I glance back up at the terrarium and see the same size hole in the base.
“It burned through,” he says, holding it away from his body to avoid anything from the bottom that might seep onto him. “That’s some scary stuff.”
There are still a lot of crickets left. Hope he’s not going to keep this up much longer. “You know, I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”
We had thought that something as small as a cricket couldn’t pose much of a threat, but abilities become much more dangerous in uncontrollable animals, even tiny ones.
“A few more times?” Elliott asks. “I’m not sure how I can develop the power otherwise.”
I nervously agree and he loads up the terrarium again. This time, I only allow him to put one cricket inside.
Elliott starts his jumping jacks and after a few seconds, his hands glow again. “If I speed up my breathing, it goes quicker.”
He lifts up the lid, zaps the cricket, and quickly closes it. By now, I’m no longer excited to see what will happen. I’m terrified. We wait a few minutes. Nothing. This one is probably a Lesser. Elliott takes it into the other room and disposes of it. I have no idea what he’s doing in there, but I hope it doesn’t involve his grandmother’s kitchen sink.
Elevated (Book 1): Elevated Page 11