by K. K. Perez
Ravi’s expression remained frustratingly sympathetic.
“Claudia might be relieved. The technique originated as a treatment for shell shock. She doesn’t need to remember—”
“What I did.”
“That’s not what I was saying.”
“Why should Claudia have to remember her best friend’s a monster, right?”
“You know that’s not true.”
A caustic laugh. “Then what am I?”
“Last night I’d say you were a hero.”
“If you truly believe that, Ravi, you’re more misguided than Rick.”
“Lucinda—” He reached for her and Lucy hopped down from the stool. “I need to go home,” she told him. She would happily accept whatever punishment her parents deemed fit. It couldn’t be worse than the black hole inside her, threatening to swallow her whole.
“I’ll drive you,” Ravi said.
“No. I want to walk.”
“You’re still recovering—we need to talk about the nosebleeds, and the seizure, and any other—”
“Not now,” Lucy ground out.
Indecision pursed his lips. “Okay,” he agreed after a minute. “Later. But here—” Ravi pulled the tourmaline necklace from his pocket. “This fell onto the tracks when you … collapsed.” He said the last word quietly, and it filled her with foreboding.
Morning light winked off the silver starburst setting.
Lucy had a stop to make on her way home.
ANOTHER WAY TO DIE
Lucy shambled through the peaceful quiet of an early suburban Sunday morning. Her sneakers scuffed along the pavement—the only sound besides the occasional chirping of birds. She glanced at the phone Ravi had returned to her: barely six A.M. In an hour or two, the neighborhood would be a flurry of lawn mowers and kids playing in their yards. Not now. Now there was silence and all Lucy could hear were her own swirling thoughts and pounding heart.
She fingered the tourmaline pendant. Idly, she wondered whether Cole and Megan had enjoyed an after-prom party for two at the White Hart Inn. Lucy could only imagine the two of them swapping stories about flying staplers and volatile lighting systems. That night in the hot tub with Cole, Lucy had scared herself—but not enough. She’d still been in denial.
Until she saw Jess lying, almost lifeless, on the High Line, Lucy hadn’t fully comprehended how dangerous she truly was.
Ravi said she didn’t scare him. He was a fool. Lucy scared herself.
She stopped in front of Claudia’s house.
Her friend’s phone was doubtless still in the possession of the Freelancers so Lucy couldn’t text her, and it was way too early to dial the landline and risk waking Claudia’s parents. Lucy shuffled down the driveway toward the back garden, which Claudia’s room overlooked. They never locked the gate. She scooped up a handful of gravel.
Lucy sucked in a breath as she swung open the gate. No pebbles required.
Claudia was slouched on the tire swing, head tipped back, gazing up at the big blue sky. The metal links twisted back and forth. It was going to be a beautiful day.
Lucy remembered when Mr. O’Rourke had installed the swing in the old oak tree. It took months of begging her mom before she agreed to let Lucy try it out and then only if she wore her helmet. As Claudia had pushed her higher and higher, Lucy hadn’t minded about the helmet, thinking life couldn’t get any better.
Slowly, Claudia pulled herself upright. She was wearing Jess’s Ceci n’est pas une pipe T-shirt. A weight pressed on Lucy’s chest.
“Clauds,” she said in a hush. She weaved between Mrs. O’Rourke’s prize rosebushes toward the swing.
“You’re okay?” Claudia asked, expression drawn. Her gaze lingered for a moment on Lucy’s black eye.
“Yeah.” Lucy pointed at the bandage peeking out from beneath the sleeve of the T-shirt. “You okay?”
“Ravi patched me up. No stitches, even. Just Steri-Strips.” She shrugged. “And I’d been hoping for a sexy scar. Ladies love scars.”
Lucy swallowed a laugh. Claudia’s tone was light but off-key.
She came to a halt in front of the swing, shoving her hands in her pockets to keep them away from the chains. Hanging her head, she said, “I don’t know where to start, Clauds.”
“I don’t either, Luce.” Her friend pushed her feet against the grass and began to swing. She looked Lucy up and down. “I take it you haven’t been home yet.”
Lucy pulled at the baggy sweatpants. “Not yet.”
“I’ve been briefed on the cover story,” she said. “You were with me all night. I’ll confirm it with the Drs. Phelps.”
The crater inside Lucy expanded. “What else did Ravi say?”
“Not much. National security may have been mentioned—although he’s not American, so I don’t know how that works. I gather he’s not a college student or a teacher’s assistant.” Claudia arched an eyebrow. “Keeping my mouth shut was the general gist.”
“I’m so sorry. So, so sorry.”
Her best friend’s face remained impassive. She kicked herself higher.
“I didn’t mean—I didn’t mean to hurt Jess. I need you to know that,” Lucy said, because it seemed the most urgent of the things she needed to make her best friend understand. “I could never … on purpose…” Lucy’s entire being recoiled as the other girl’s twitching body flashed through her mind.
“How?” Claudia asked softly. “How did you do … what you did?”
Lucy exhaled. Ravi thought it was safer for Claudia not to know anything about the Orders, but that ship had sailed last night. Claudia deserved the truth. How could Lucy ever regain her friend’s trust with so many secrets between them?
“Well, for starters, I don’t have epilepsy,” she said.
“But I saw you seize. On the High Line. I’ve never seen you seize that badly, I was so— I thought you were going to die, Luce.” The broken quality in her friend’s voice made something inside Lucy unravel. “Both you and Jess.”
Lucy dared a step closer, wanting to touch her best friend, yet still too afraid.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” She could only imagine how terrifying it had all been for Claudia to witness. Even Ravi seemed torn up about what he had seen, although Lucy wasn’t ready to discuss it with him yet.
“It was a seizure,” Lucy explained. “But it wasn’t caused by epilepsy.”
“Then by what?”
“A different kind of genetic disorder. A mutation.”
“Oh-kay…”
Lucy interlocked her fingers. “That’s how … what happened with Jess.”
“I may not be a scientist like you, but I’m pretty sure that’s not possible.”
“It shouldn’t be.” Lucy drew in a breath through her nostrils. Perhaps people like her shouldn’t be allowed to exist.
“Have you always known?” Claudia raked a hand through her knotty curls.
“No. I only just found out. My parents don’t even know.” Claudia cocked her head at that revelation, and Lucy continued, “Ravi works with scientists who’ve been studying my mutation. He says they can help.”
Her friend dragged her feet along the ground, stopping the swing.
“Scientists,” she repeated. Lucy nodded. “Scientists with guns.” Lucy nodded again. “Right.” Claudia’s shoulders hunched forward. “How does Jess fit into all of this?”
Lucy wet her lips. “Jess came to Eaton to watch me for the people she works for.”
“The people who took me.”
“Yes.”
“So what was I?” Claudia rubbed a glossy sheen from her eyes. “What was I to Jess? Bait?”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t believe she wanted to hurt you.”
“It’s not worth much.”
“I’m sorry.”
Claudia frowned. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”
Lucy sure the hell hoped so. Wherever the Freelancers had fled, she didn’t want them anywhere near Claudia, ever again.<
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“I do think she loved you.” Despite everything, Lucy actually did believe that.
Claudia hiccupped a laugh. “I don’t know what love means anymore.”
The pain on her face broke Lucy. She grabbed for Claudia’s hand and the other girl pulled back on the swing. Out of reach. Lucy’s hand brushed the metal chain and a small green flame appeared. Frak.
Claudia’s eyes went wide.
Flushing, Lucy shoved her hands back in her pockets. “Please don’t be afraid of me, Clauds.” Her lips trembled as her eyes began to water.
Maybe Lucy was destined to become untouchable, and maybe that was for the best.
“I’m not afraid of you, Luce—I’m furious about the fact you’ve been lying straight to my face. Over and over!” Claudia raised her voice at the same time she dissolved into tears. “All the trips to New York, all the excuses. I would have listened. I would have helped. I’ve known you my whole life, but I don’t know you at all—and not because of your powers. You were my best friend!”
“Were?” Lucy yelped, staggering back another step. She clutched the tourmaline. “I’ll do anything to make this right, Claudia. No more secrets. Tell me what you need. Anything.”
“Some things you can’t make right.”
“I can, I swear. Let me try. Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you.”
“I don’t want to know any more.” Claudia swiped angrily at her tears. “Both my best friend and my girlfriend were deceiving me for months and I had no idea. What does that make me, Lucy? Tell me that!”
“Trusting. Loyal. Better than I deserve.”
“I’ll keep your secret, Lucy, but what I need is for you to leave me alone.”
“I love you, Clauds,” Lucy rasped.
“Please, Luce. Just leave.”
Lucy nodded, unable to speak. Sorrow burrowed into her bones. They had never felt so heavy. Silently she turned, barely able to force her feet to move.
Each of Claudia’s soft sobs punctured her heart.
The swing resumed its squeaking as she walked away. She didn’t chance a final look. She might not leave if she did.
After last night, nothing would ever be the same.
I, ZOMBIE
The walk home from Claudia’s house was the longest of Lucy’s life. She had the distinct impression of walking toward a firing squad for the second time in twenty-four hours.
Staring at the Cave Felem! door mat, she swallowed hard. The Beware of the Cat welcome mat had been a present from Claudia a few Christmases ago. Oh, Clauds. Lucy dug around the pockets of Ravi’s sweatpants, feeling for her house keys. At least he’d kept her essentials safe while she was breaking into museums and dodging bullets.
The front door juddered just as her hand closed around the keys.
“Dad.”
“Lucinda.”
Her dad’s face was drawn and haggard, as if he’d aged twenty years since Lucy had last seen him. And he was still wearing his suit. Nevertheless, wrath knitted his brow and Lucy did her best not to cower beneath his blazing eyes.
Her throat burned, unable to put together a greeting much less a defense—because her name had indeed been an accusation.
Lucy’s father studied her like she was a stranger, examining her clothes, her bandaged hand, and settling on her bruised cheek.
Incredulity threaded through his voice as he said, “Were you in a fight?”
“Only with some A/V equipment.” Lucy forced out the lie.
Her dad stroked the tender skin around her eye, and Lucy gasped not only from the unexpected gesture but also from the depth of the sadness that washed over her. Dr. Victor Phelps scrutinized his daughter intently, almost as if he could see his own sorrow reflected in her eyes, then retreated into the foyer. Lucy followed him inside.
They stood in the exact same spot where—what seemed like a lifetime ago—he’d been a proud dad admiring his daughter in her prom dress.
What if he never looked at Lucy that way again?
“Your mother’s waiting in the living room,” he informed her. “We’ve been worried sick.”
Guilt clashed with anger. Lucy hated that she couldn’t tell her parents that she hadn’t broken curfew on purpose. But explaining that Claudia had been kidnapped and Lucy had to rescue her would only make matters worse. Maybe endanger her parents even more than they already were.
And yet, all of this had started with the photo in her father’s office. Ravi said it hadn’t been sent by the Archimedeans; the Freelancers had sent Jess to determine whether it was Lucy or Claudia who carried the lightning gene, so it couldn’t be them either; and if the Sophists had known about Lucy, they would have locked her up and thrown away the key. On that point, disturbingly, the Archimedeans and the Freelancers actually agreed.
Who did that leave?
“Lucy!”
Her mom sprang up from the sofa and rushed to hug her. Not what she’d expected. Her mother wasn’t much of a hugger under the best of circumstances. Lucy prepared for another wave of emotion, but none came.
“She’s safe, Elaine,” said her dad. Her mom pulled back, staring at Lucy as if she didn’t believe her own eyes. Her hair was loose, yesterday’s makeup cracked around her wrinkles. She’d already been burning the candles at both ends, and Lucy had only added to her stress.
“Prom ended hours ago, Lucy,” her father said in a steely tone. “Where have you been? I nearly called the cops.”
Lucy sucked in a sharp breath. That would have been bad. Very bad, indeed.
Watching her hesitate, her father’s expression hardened. Between her parents, Lucy’s mom had traditionally been the disciplinarian. She wasn’t used to her dad turning his Wall Street shark glare on her. She squirmed where she stood.
“I was with Claudia,” Lucy said to the carpet.
“We checked with the O’Rourkes,” came his reply.
“We weren’t at her house.”
“We know. Where were you? And why didn’t you answer your phone? And what are you wearing?” Her father’s volume increased a notch with each question and Lucy realized he wasn’t just angry—he seemed frightened.
The only other time he’d ever been this upset with Lucy was when she was six or seven. She’d deliberately disobeyed his instruction not to climb the monkey bars at the playground and proceeded to fall flat on her face. She still had a paper-thin scar on her forehead from the incident.
“I’m sorry.” Lucy’s voice grew very small. “We went to Jess’s dorm and—”
“The Jess who came over last night?” her dad interrupted, dark eyebrows pinched together.
“Yeah. I spilled punch on my dress so she lent me these.” Lucy tugged at the T-shirt. Her temples throbbed and she could sense her oscillations starting to go haywire. She touched the tourmaline to steady herself. “My phone was on silent. And we lost track of time. I’m really, really sorry.”
“I can’t tell you how disappointed I am in you, Lucinda. What if you’d had a seizure? How are we supposed to trust you to take care of yourself at college? It’s not like you to be so irresponsible,” he fumed.
“Victor,” her mom said in a cautioning tone.
Fine. Better for her parents to think she’d stayed out all night in some age-appropriate act of rebellion than to learn the truth. Safer for them, safer for everyone.
Going on the offensive, Lucy charged, “Why are you so disappointed in me? Because I’m not perfect? Because I acted eighteen for once? Instead of like some retiree who loves early bird specials?”
Her father crossed his arms. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous? Me?” She threw her hands in the air. “I’m being ridiculous because I wasn’t totally in your control for thirty seconds!” Lucy had thought she was pretending, but the frustration rising to the surface was real. “You never ask me what I want. You just give orders.”
She wheeled toward her mother. “Both of you! I don’t even want to go to Gilbert. That’s your dream.
Not mine.”
“I don’t know who you are right now,” barked her father.
Neither do I.
He clasped her around the shoulders. “Have you been drinking?”
She released a smothered half-laugh as desperation clawed through her—his desperation. Lucy yanked herself away, not wanting him to get trapped in her electromagnetic field.
“I’m still your father, Lucinda. As long as you live under my roof, you live by my rules.”
“If you’re ever here,” she shot back.
Grief seized her father’s face so completely that it mystified her.
“Everything I do, I do for you.” He drew in another long breath. “One day, I hope you’ll appreciate how much both your mother and I have done to give you a good life. A normal life.”
His words pierced her like arrows.
“Because I’m not normal.”
I’m a freak. I’m a monster.
“Don’t turn this around, Lucinda. You’re the one in the wrong here. Except for school, you’re not to leave this house until you show some remorse for your actions.”
“Remorse?” she squeaked. Lucy felt nothing but remorse: she had lost the trust of all the people who mattered in her life in a single night.
She flew up the stairs and dove under the covers, muffling her sobs in her pillow.
A few minutes later, a knock came at the door. When Lucy didn’t answer, it creaked open.
The smell of peppermint prickled Lucy’s nostrils. Her mother held a mug in one hand and a prescription bottle in the other.
“Did something happen at prom?” Concern underscored her mom’s question. “Want to talk?”
Lucy tightened her arms around the pillow. She did, but she couldn’t.
“Nothing happened, Mom. Can’t I just be an irresponsible teenager for once?”
Her mother winced. Lucy had thought she couldn’t feel any worse, but she’d been wrong.
“The most important thing is that you’re safe, and you’re home,” her mom said, almost to herself. “Take your pills.” She set them next to the tea on Lucy’s desk. If only her mom knew how useless the medication actually was.