Was that the crap I was gonna worry about when I was old? That sucked.
I turned to Mom. “I'll suck those up Mom.”
“Are you sure? You've had six already.”
Was she kidding?
“Yeah, Mom, still hungry.” I stood and jerked up my shirt, displaying my flat stomach and ribs.
Dad laughed aloud. “Wow, doing some dieting?”
“No, doing some growing, I think,” Mom said, looking at me critically.
I put my dishes in the sink. Mom came over and gave me a tight hug which I ducked out of the moment I could and not hurt her feelings. Mom was cool but no touchy.
Dad gave me a hard clap on the shoulder and asked if I remembered the protocol for the pill taking. Yes, I told him. I figured forty times had been enough reminders for the next one hundred years.
“I didn't remind you that many times, Caleb.”
Mom and I looked at each other, laughing. No, guffawed. That's what Jonesy called it.
Dad threw up his hands. “Okay, okay, I surrender. I guess I mentioned it a few times.” We looked at him. “Ah... more than a few times.”
I walked to the door, throwing my backpack on and launched myself outside. A drizzle settled over me through the cedar slats and I was instantly wet, freaky weather.
My thoughts crowded inside my head like cobwebs. The Js and Jade were gonna meet at my locker and then we had alphabetical buildings for the testing. Good thing that all the school buildings already had letter of the alphabet names I thought with disinterested sarcasm. I was feeling hyped.
I ripped open the school door and used my foot to prop it open as a hooded girl walked in right behind me. She let it slam behind her with a satisfying clatter. A tingle went through me and she looked up at me. It was Tiff, shoulda known.
“Hey Hart. Done any playing in the dirt lately?”
I grinned, and she grinned back. A vague bruise rimmed underneath her eyes like a shadow. I wonder how she'd explained that to her parents.
She read my face and said, “They don't know.”
“Who?”
“My parents, bright one.”
I looked around while kids surged back and forth, the constant noise of their talking in the background.
I leaned in. “Are you nervous?”
“Hell yeah. I don't want any attention for this. Maybe I'll just hit a couple of points. I'll get noticed but not noticed, if ya know what I mean.”
I did.
“I was thinking about what happened. And, it was damn good that we're not testing in the same building. Since, we're like... a...” she gave a puzzled frown.
“Radio?” I supplied.
“Somethin' like that. Whatever it is, I don't want to pop some false-positive crap. Ya know, hit as an all-five-points just because you're in the room,” her eyes narrowed. “Ya know Hart, you're okay... for a boy.”
Thanks, I guess.
“But just because we're both,” looking about her furtively, lowering her voice, “AFTD doesn't mean we have to be in the same frying pan.”
She straightened, about to bolt.
“Wait... can I count on you?”
“Well, yeah. I just meant that I don't want to be corralled in some creepy place because of getting sucked into your undead drama.”
Tell me how you really feel.
Out loud I said, “gotcha.”
“See ya later and good luck.” She flipped her hood back, skulking into the crowd.
I'd been so into my conversation I'd missed everyone standing by my locker. Three faces peered at me through the mess of kids. John had his usual expression of silent mode, the weather awakening his shock of orange hair into a tornado. Jonesy was smiling. The whites of his eyes two twin dots of ivory floating in his face, only to be joined by a brilliant slash of teeth as he caught sight of me coming toward him.
But it was Jade that made my breath catch in my throat like an errant bubble, captured. She wore coal black jeans and matching short-top All Stars, the laces as black as the jeans. A brilliant green camisole stole all attention inside the v-neck of a tight T-shirt that ended at the swell of her hips. Her hair hung there and as I looked, she gave a subtle flick of her head and one side swept away over a shoulder.
I realized I had stopped moving forward. With a low chuckle, I resumed my progress across the commons. Jade gave a little smile. Looks like she had sorta figured out I dug her. Maybe she already knew since she was an Empath and all. Go figure.
I walked up to the group. We all sorta shuffled around nervously. This meant a lot to all of us. We were all gonna find out, in the case of me and Jade, everyone else was gonna find out about us and it would change things. So far, I was the only one that had the big guns. Well, that wasn't completely accurate, Carson could burn the place down. Things were complicated. But he didn't have any cool drugs (I didn't think) that would buy him time. He was going away to the same school as all paranormals.
An evil idea began to take shape.
Jonesy picked up on it immediately. “You've thought of something cool.” Leave it to him to scope the potential for trouble.
“Yeah. Here we were hoping to distract the dorks from making trouble for me but Carson has his own.”
John stroked his chin thoughtfully, its narrowness perfectly fitting in between thumb and the curl of his index finger. John was all angles and bones, he was a skinny sucker.
“Let's play it cool today,” John said looking at Jonesy.
Jonesy gave him The Look.
“Let's try not to make a ruckus,” John clarified.
“A fracas,” Jade added.
Jonesy was deeply confused now.
“What they mean is, don't blurt out anything in the middle of testing that will get us all in trouble,” I said.
“Well, hell no. I wouldn't do that,” Jonesy said, offended.
We all did a slave eye-roll. Yeah, that was so going to happen! Jonesy not talking out of turn! Jonesy following along and playing well with others.
Jonesy having a filter.
Jade intervened, “You're a great guy Jones but, I have noticed that you aren't always self-aware.”
That was diplomatic.
He glared at her and she stared back, her face all open and innocent. Finally, defeated. “Okay, I guess I'll try to concentrate on the test,” he grumbled.
“Well that's the concept,” John said.
The principal walked out into the commons, manually ringing the class bell. This was it. Suddenly, my awesome bacon and pancake breakfast sat like a cold lump in my belly, waiting for expulsion. I got a grip.
Jade held out her hand and I took it, fingers closing around the whole of it. The Js glanced over at me nervously.
Principal Avers began in his monotonous voice saying, “people, listen closely to your building assignments, all pulse accessories are disallowed in the testing facilities. There will be mandatory breaks every fifty minutes...” he droned on about some other unimportant stuff, then we all sharpened right back up when he said, “...and finally, the following buildings will be assigned alphabetically as follows: last names beginning in A through H will test in Building Alpha, last names beginning in I through P will test in Building Bravo, and names beginning in Q through Z will test in Building Charlie.”
I did the swift calculations in my head... Jade, Sophie, and Jonesy in Bravo. And Brett, my mind added. Jade was safe enough with a bunch of other kids and some staff. Let me see... me and Carson (oh joy) in Alpha and John and Tiff in Charlie.
My eyes met John's over Jade's head. He was thinking the same thing I was; Carson with me and Brett with the girls. Bad news.
Principal Avers added, “Disperse to your respective buildings. You have five minutes. Line up outside the door to be scanned.”
That meant the disc that all of us had located behind our ear would be scanned for attendance, admittance, and later, tracking and information.
I jammed the pill inside my mouth and dry swallowed i
t. I used the commotion of everyone wandering around, acting like I was coughing in my hand. Dad had told me that I couldn't be too paranoid, maybe there were pulse sensors or pulse-digis recording all our moves. I did okay.
I turned to Jonesy. “Can you sit next to the girls?”
He nodded, serious for once. “Yeah, I know Brett's in there.”
“I think it'll be okay but he's riding on the edge, I don't know what'll set him off.”
“Will do,” he said, nodding as he walked toward Bravo.
Jade gave me the press of her lips like butterfly wings on my cheek, then was gone. No PDAs in the school, but she chanced it anyway. I smiled down at her, squeezing her hand as her fingers slid slowly out of mine. I watched her walk away, Sophie flanking her out of nowhere.
John came up beside me. “She'll be okay.”
That was one of those lies that I let John tell. A lie of comfort. I felt like nothing was going to be okay. We walked to our buildings, separating at the last minute. My friends were counting on me.
I was counting on me too.
“Good luck,” John said.
“You too,” I replied.
****
The slim paddle hovered behind my ear for about two seconds and the school nurse said, “Hart, cleared.” like she'd said about the other fifty kids before me.
I was definitely feeling high. Or something, I'd never been high. If I really wanted to get high someday, I could wait until I turned twenty-one and jump into any of the drug bars and have at it. But, having a scientist for a father was an advantage. Dad had outlined drug use and consequence. I had a fuzzy warm feeling that was a blanket of tranquility. The buzzing from the dead was down to a manageable roar. Low frequency, that was a dead giveaway I was floating on the cerebral pond.
We sat in our assigned seats, everyone in attendance. Not surprising given it was mandatory by law that all children at age thirteen by August thirty-first of the current school year must take the AP Test; even the home schooled kids. I guess that guaranteed the puberty net would be flung wide. But the reality was, kids were slipping through. There had to be other kids that were starting to manifest (like me) their abilities sooner than August thirty-first.
Puberty had its own clock.
My floating cloud of warmth was momentarily interrupted as an AP Test supervisor handed out, with two assistants, slim pulse-pads. They same thickness of our pulse-phones, but the dimensions were the same as Mom's old-fashioned paperback books.
I stared at mine in front of me, just a blank screen with a thumb pad, my head filled with cotton.
Once all the pulse-pads were distributed, the testing supervisor instructed, “Please depress your thumb on the pad and think your identity and pertinent information. You have eight seconds, begin.”
Great personality, this one.
I did as instructed:
Caleb Hart, Age 14, Kent Middle School, King County, Washington.
The screen lay black, then:
Confirmed.
I looked around, my thick brain swimming with the movement. I got a bearing on Carson. He was already looking at me, making sure none of the adults were watching, he gave me the middle finger salute.
So consistent.
I stared at him, such a moron. But... a powerful one. He'd spend the next four years in a fire-proofed classroom and I wouldn't be in it--I smiled.
That confused the dolt for a second, then the instructor spoke again, “You'll be asked a series of questions. All answers will be confirmed as valid. There is obviously no way to cheat.” I was overwhelmed with an insane urge to laugh, high as a kite that I was, “and all areas of aptitude will be identified. Make your best effort to offer concise, short answers. Keep your thought processes clear of extraneous thinking.”
Translation: don't think about anything fun or what you'd rather be doing.
“One more thing,” she paused, she had our full attention, then said and odd thing, “there will be control questions inserted that must be answered even if they seem to be unrelated to the main body of testing.”
What the hell did that mean?
I began digging into the test questions, thinking my responses. I felt decidedly dull. But Dad was right, the half dose allowed me to think and answer, so far...no-retard. I didn't have nervousness either. I could feel wanting to stress about my AFTD but the drug kept emotions under control. Sweet.
A lot of standard Math and Science questions answered, we began verbal. Then this question out of nowhere: How do you feel about things that have died?
That's one of the questions that didn't fit.
I had an instant stab of dread but thought: Good.
The moment I answered there was a burst of the buzzing that the dead emanate followed by what could only be described as a drain of energy.
The instructor came to my desk. I looked up.
Crap.
“We need you to change buildings.”
I replied carefully, drug befuddled, “But this is the building for my name.”
A condescending smile appeared. “We're aware of that, but some of your responses have alerted us that the remainder of your testing will be administered at an alternate location.”
I wasn't the only kid. Carson and about ten other kids were herded by assistants, who must have leaked out of walls, because there were more than the original two.
I scanned the group of kids, now disrupted by our leaving, their faces wary.
The instructor, who remained nameless, addressed the class, “please continue with your questions, this interruption will be as brief as possible. Your first break will be in,” she glanced at the pulse clock, which counted backwards, “five minutes.”
I stood unsteadily, feeling woozy and she gave me a penetrating look. I gathered myself together to appear alert. She didn't know me well enough to determine if I was sleepy or there was more to it.
There was definitely more to it.
We were ushered back into the commons, pulse-pads in hand. There was another head honcho guy out there and I saw through my semi-drug fog two other instructors, one for Bravo and Charlie, and a butt-load of assistants.
“This group,” waving dismissively at us, “will be escorted to Delta.” It was taken totally for granted that everyone would cooperate with His Authority.
It made me want to do the opposite.
We followed the instructors in a loose group, the assistants flanking and following. Scanning the area I saw Tiff and John! I assumed that we pinged paranormal and that was why we were getting moved. What the hell was John doing here? We looked at each other and he jerked his shoulders up around his ears like, I don't understand either.
I didn't make an effort to hide my curiosity, looking around for Jade. I caught sight of her and a tight spot in my chest loosened, she smiled back. And Sophie! But Brett and Jonesy weren't a part of our group. Didn't matter, I was relieved to have John, Jade, and even Tiff in my sights. I didn't really know Sophie but figured she was okay because she was Jade's friend. I tried to remember with a brain made fuzzy if Jade had ever made any comment about her. I couldn't think of anything; another wild card.
We walked through Delta's doors, settling into a group of about seventy or so seats, filling only half of those.
We were arranged alphabetically. That put me real close to Carson with only one kid separating us. It was Alex. Alex of the bad piano playing. We gave the guy-nod.
Head Honcho turned to us. “I am the instructor for this building. You have all been moved here because your responses indicate paranormal aptitude.”
Yeah, duh.
“We will resume your testing in,” he looked at the pulse clock, “approximately three minutes and change.”
Another inappropriate urge to laugh came over me, which I eliminated by biting the inside of my cheek until the copper taste of my own blood silenced it. I ducked my head, my hair sliding into my eyes. My cheek hurt like hell.
We took stock of each other. It wa
s weird, the students knew it was a “sanctioned” thing, the testing, but the testers were super-spy about it; leaving a taste of underhandedness. It intensified my paranoia.
There was a skeletal guy leaning against a kids sized desk angled into the corner, drumming his long, tapered fingers against its edge, all dark planes with a complexion to match. His fingers were stained yellow with a grayish skin cast. He was rich (and don't forget dumb) or he wouldn't be smoking.
Head Honcho went to him, fingers nervously stroking his tie. Their heads were bent together, those fingers going up and down, up and down. They paused in conversation then looked up at our group. We weren't allowed to talk but some kids were nervously looking around, others looked bored. They seemed to stare straight at me but I knew that could have been Carson or Alex too. But somehow, I knew it was me. AFTD was so rare, I'd be the star of the show.
A chime sounded. Gaunt-man lounged in his corner and Head Honcho worked over his tie one more time, moving to the front where our desks were assembled.
“You've answered a satisfactory amount of academic questions and we have a strong idea of where each of you fall in these categories,” he paused for effect. “This building is being utilized to further gauge your individual potentials for each paranormal ability you have manifested.”
Creeper-factor of about ten.
“Each one of you will have a series of control questions interspersed with academic questions. These questions are tailored according to your individual gifts. Each year, we are always surprised by a new ability or 'branch',” he made airquotes, “which will manifest in a student, or one that is not easily quantified.”
Blah, blah, blah, let's just get on with it, I thought sullenly. It didn't matter that he felt better about explaining things to us. I understood everything: they knew what each of us was. They were going to test us for that specific thing, and there may be some kid that gives them a whammy of surprise with a yet unknown ability.
Marvelous for them.
He finally shut up and our pulse-pads came back to life with a press of the thumb.
Useless question after question appeared. Most seemed standard but a few were funny:
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