by Sybil Nelson
“Anyway,” he continued, “I knew he’d bring you here so I put on my old uniform, stole an access card, and snuck in. I’ve been blending in for the past hour while I searched for you. I’m pretty sure they know I’m here now, though.”
“You knew I would be here? How? Why?”
He sighed. “Your mother and I met here. I was a guard, she was a … patient.”
“A patient? Was she sick?”
My father didn’t answer immediately. He placed his ear against the wall opposite the door and started tapping it as if he were listening for something.
“Not exactly.” He apparently found what he was looking for, as he stopped the tapping and started pressing buttons on one of his guns. It wasn’t the same gun he used to shoot out the camera. It was more like a rectangle, about a foot long, and had ten black buttons in the shape of a triangle on one side of it. The only reason I knew it was some sort of gun was because it had a trigger on one end and a barrel on the other. It looked very high-tech, like something from Star Trek. “Priss, this might hurt a little, but it’ll only be for a few seconds,” he said, kneeling in front of me. “Cover your ears and try to put your mind somewhere else.” Then he stood, aimed the gun at the wall, and fired.
The sound of that gun firing was so loud it felt like something inside my brain exploded. Time seemed to stand still as I felt the same painful sensation I had from Mr. Witherall’s pen, except all over my body. Thankfully, it only lasted a second.
“What was that?” I exclaimed once it was over. My dad helped me to my feet. Apparently, I had collapsed to the floor and gotten into a fetal position.
“That was an Ion Distorter,” he said, indicating the weird rectangular gun. “It was the quickest way for me to disintegrate the wall. I tried to find a place that was hollow so I wouldn’t have to use it for long. It’s painful for you, but won’t cause any permanent damage.”
“Painful for me? Just me? Why not you?” I asked as I followed him into the hole in the wall he had just created.
We entered a narrow tunnel that was barely big enough for him to fit in. He had to turn sideways in order to walk.
“You and your mother have a few different ions in the atoms that make up your cells than Josh and me. We’re not sure about the twins because they’re not old enough. They could still develop the mutation at puberty.”
“Excuse me, what?”
He sighed. “If we hurry, we can make it to the warehouse and out of the building in seventy-three seconds. I’ll try to explain in that amount of time.” Without slowing his step, he began the story. “Your mother was a genetic experiment created right here in this building. The Selliwood Institute began in 1968 in the midst of the Vietnam War as a training facility for volunteer members of the military in order to create an elite team of special operatives. But they quickly found that too many of them were killed or injured in battle, thus losing their monetary investment. That’s when Colonel Selliwood teamed up with Dr. Witherall, a brilliant geneticist. Together, they used science to give their soldiers genetic advantages. They wanted to create an indestructible human. But most of the time, the soldiers’ bodies would reject the mutation or cause … disturbing side effects. They decided to start the genetic mutations earlier so they would be accepted in the body. After sixteen unsuccessful attempts, they succeeded with the birth of your mother. By the time she was your age, she could vanquish a hundred men in a matter of minutes without even breaking a sweat.”
“So, my mother is a murderer?”
My father looked at me. I could tell from the sad expression in his blue eyes that he wanted to hug me, but he didn’t have time. “No, Priss. That’s what they wanted her to be, but she rebelled. The summer before I went to college, I came to work here. We fell in love, and I helped her escape. Twenty years ago, we used this very same secret tunnel to get away. I just hope it works a second time.”
I noticed a bit of doubt and worry in his voice. I had to admit, I was worried too. What were the chances that they hadn’t discovered this secret passage after almost twenty years?
After what was probably seventy-three seconds exactly, we entered a large room. It was pitch black but I could sense the size of it. Unfortunately, I could also hear people breathing. I feared there were at least thirty people in the room. When the lights clicked on, my fears were confirmed.
We stared directly into the locked and loaded barrels of more than two dozen rifles, pistols, and machine guns. I felt like I was in a video game, only I couldn’t hit pause or use a cheat to get to the next level. This was real. And soon it would be game over for me and Dad.
“Really, Gregory? The same tunnel?” Mr. Witherall said, emerging from behind a wall of guards. “Lack of imagination has always been your downfall. Did you really think I’d let you slip away with another one of my creations?”
“She’s not your creation. She’s my daughter.”
“A minor detail that I won’t fault her for. I’m quite impressed with her abilities so far. Who would have thought that a second-generation specimen would be so extraordinary? Thank goodness for that local news program she appeared on. Imagine my surprise when we got a hit on our face recognition technology from River’s Butt, Pennsylvania. At first I thought it had to be her mother. But I’m even more pleased at meeting Priscilla. I can’t wait to study her.”
Mr. Witherall smiled and reached toward me, but my dad stepped in front of him and said, “You won’t touch her.” My father engaged his rifle and pointed it at Mr. Witherall, causing all of the guards to point their guns at my father.
Mr. Witherall rolled his eyes, or shall I say eye. “Like you have any say in the matter. Just give up, Gregory. It’s over.”
Suddenly, the air in the warehouse stirred. It kinda felt like a tornado was coming, except we were indoors. The lights flickered on and off. When they stopped, my mother stood between my father and Mr. Witherall and said, “Let my family go and I might let you live.”
Chapter 16: She’s Like the Wind
In unison, the guns shifted from my father to my mother. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even acknowledge their existence. To her, there was no one else in the room besides Mr. Witherall. Her red hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. It seemed to wave back and forth in a non-existent breeze. Her white spandex catsuit hugged every curve of her body. And, wow, was she curvy. I had never seen my mother dressed in so little. Like my father, she always wore business suits, usually a size too large. She tried to hide her amazing figure. Now I knew why. She didn’t want to have to explain why she was an almost forty-year-old mother of four with the body of a superhero.
Mr. Witherall waved his hand in the air, and immediately, all the guards lowered their weapons. “Specimen Q. It’s about time you showed up. I was afraid you wouldn’t be joining us.”
“This has gone far enough. It’s me you want. Let them go.”
“Specimen Q—”
“My name is Quindolyn.”
Mr. Witherall smiled at my mother. But it wasn’t a friendly smile. It was the kind of smile that an adult gives a child when the child says they want to be called Cinderella or Batman instead of their given name.
“Quindolyn,” he began again.
“How’s that eye of yours?” My mother interjected with a smirk.
Mr. Witherall touched his eye self-consciously.
“I’d be happy to give you a matching set,” she added.
He clenched his jaw. So it was my mother who had damaged his eye. I felt a surge of pride—something I had never felt toward her before.
“Look, Quindolyn, I forgive you for everything. If it were up to me, you and your so-called family could walk out of here right now. But it’s not up to me. Colonel Selliwood actually wants you and your daughter dead. You and Priscilla are a dangerous liability. And you’ve cost him millions of dollars over the past four years, stealing his specimens.”
“We’re not specimens. We’re human beings and we deserve a norma
l life.”
“I don’t want to argue with you, Quindolyn. I want to help you. I’ll convince Selliwood not to kill you, if you let me study Priscilla. We need to learn everything she’s capable of. What if her genetic mutations are causing side effects? She may need medication. I can help her.” Mr. Witherall tried to sound comforting and reassuring, but I wasn’t fooled. His raspy voice still gave me the creeps.
“You’re not drugging my child like you did to me for seventeen years.” My mother’s cheeks turned red. The memories of her childhood must have really angered her. I couldn’t imagine her pain. “I’m going to say this one time. Let my family go or die a horribly painful death. The choice is yours.”
I didn’t know how this stand-off was going to end. Someone had to make a move. I was so distracted by the icy conversation between my mother and Mr. Witherall, I didn’t notice that the bad guys had already made a move.
“You chose wrong,” my mother said, shaking her head. Apparently, she was more aware of her surroundings than I was. She yelled, “Priss, down!” as she turned and grabbed a small metal object out of her belt. I hit the floor as fast as I could as the metal object flew over my head and into the knee of a guard who had snuck up behind me. Gun fire exploded from all directions.“Greg, rafters!”
“I’m on it,” my father responded, firing a gun at the guards in the upper levels.
Mr. Witherall retreated into the depths of the warehouse. Five or six huge guards leaped toward my mother, and she fended each of them off like an Amazon warrior with a black belt. I could barely keep up with her arms, legs, and feet moving in every direction, causing ridiculous amounts of pain to the truck-sized guards. At one point she picked up a guard and swung him like a bat, knocking out several others. She moved so quickly around the room, disarming and disabling the guards, that it was almost like watching the wind.
“Priss, hide!” my father said as he jammed the butt of his gun into another man’s stomach. I didn’t want to hide. I wanted to help, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to get in the way.
“Greg, get Dr. Witherall,” my mother called over the noise of combat.
My dad looked around and found Witherall making a break for the exit. He tried to follow, but his leg put him at a huge disadvantage. Witherall got away.
Once carefully hidden behind some barrels, I noticed a guard about twenty feet away from me not involved in the fighting. He was pushing buttons on the side of a silver rectangular gun. It was an Ion Distorter. I couldn’t let him fire it. My mother wouldn’t be able to defend herself if she felt anything close to the amount of pain it caused me.
I had to stop him, but I couldn’t come from behind the barrels. With all the bullets flying everywhere, I could easily get hit. I stared at my hands. I wondered if I could gather enough strength to shoot fire twenty feet. I didn’t have too much time to wonder. The guard steadied the gun and prepared to shoot. I felt the hot flash rise within me, and with all my might, I thrust it forward. A stream of fire sliced through the air. Just as he pulled back on the trigger, the fire reached the tip of the gun and melted it. The lights on the side of it stopped flashing. I did it! I stared at my hands in amazement.
More guards entered the warehouse from all directions. Even though my parents dominated every person that came at them, I didn’t know how they would be able to keep up at their frantic pace. How were we going to get out?
Priss, can you hear me? a voice inside my head said. And this time it really was inside my head.
“Mom, is that you?” I asked, looking over to where my mother’s foot had connected with one man’s head while a swift swipe from her hand broke another man’s arm at the elbow. I was pretty sure her lips weren’t moving—although she was moving so fast I couldn’t be positive. How could she possibly be talking to me? “How can I hear you?” I felt ridiculous talking out loud with all the commotion going on, but I really wanted to know.
I’ll explain later. Right now, your dad and I need your help. The barrels to your left under the white sheets contain nitromethane. It’s highly flammable. I need you to set them on fire then run for the exit.
“What about you and Dad?”
We’ll be right behind you. I promise.
My heartbeat tripled its pace. What if I blew up the barrels and Mom and Dad didn’t make it out in time? What if I killed my own parents? No, I couldn’t do it. I started shaking my head in a frantic protest as tears swelled behind my eyes. But then that calmness returned. Suddenly, I understood where the feeling came from. It was my mother. She was somehow soothing my anxiety. I guess it had something to do with the way she was able to speak to me telepathically. She was also able to show me what I needed to do and how to do it.
I realized that my mother had always been with me. I was so unfair to her. Part of me had hated her for being away so much. But it wasn’t her fault. She had important work to do, protecting other children from being victims of horrible scientific experiments. Even though she was away physically, she did her best to be with me … telepathically, I guess.
As if on auto-pilot, I whipped off the three sheets over the barrels and tied them together, making a long rope.
I paused and watched my parents fighting for their lives, for our lives. It was my fault we were in this position. I should have trusted my dad more and avoided publicity.
Priss, now! my mother yelled in my head. Without further hesitation, I lit my makeshift fuse then ran as fast as I could out the doors of the warehouse, praying that my parents would make it out as well.
Chapter 17: The Most Awesome Thing in the World
I ran outside, where the morning sun peeked out behind mountains. Once a safe distance away, I turned and saw the building light up. A split second after I heard the explosion, I felt the bits of metal, wood, and other stuff flying around me. A loud boom rattled my ears. I fell to my knees and covered my head with my hands. Oh my God. They didn’t get out. I couldn’t breathe. I felt like my heart had turned to stone and crushed the air out of my lungs.
I had to go back and get them. I couldn’t let it end like this. Not after all they’d done for me. I’d been such an insensitive and selfish brat. I couldn’t believe the way I’d spoken to my mother, actually accusing her of not loving me. And she had gone and given her life to save me.
No. No. No. I wasn’t going to let this happen. I needed my parents. I needed my father to walk me down the aisle one day. I needed my mother to teach me how to deal with my abilities. Josh and the twins would be devastated, and it would be my fault. How would I ever be able to look at them and explain that I let our parents die?
I wiped away the tears and stood, preparing myself to go back in there and drag my parents out. I knew my body could stand the heat, and even if it couldn’t, I would rather share their fate than live on without them.
I ran toward the building just as another series of explosions rippled through it. I fell to the ground again and hugged my knees. I rocked back and forth, letting the tears flow. Who was I kidding? There was no way they survived those blasts.
“I love you, Mommy,” I said, although a painful knot in my throat made it difficult to speak. “I’ll always love you.”
I love you too, Priss, my mother’s voice said. She must have been communicating with me from the afterlife.
“Mommy, I’m so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”
For what?
“For killing you.”
Killing me? Priss, I’m not dead. I’m right behind you.
Eyes still filled with tears, I turned around and had to do a double-take. My dad lay motionless on the ground. My mother knelt over him, running her fingers over his smooth bald head.
“What … how … when did …” I stammered, looking back and forth between the burning building and my parents not ten feet away.
“I’m really fast,” my mother said, winking at me.
“But I didn’t see … how did …” The answers to the gazillion questions in my mind really di
dn’t matter. My parents were alive. That was the important thing. I ran and wrapped my arms around my mother. Even though she was covered in ash and smelled like burnt hair, I buried my face into her shoulder. “What’s wrong with Dad?” I asked when I noticed he hadn’t moved.
“I run faster than the speed of sound. Too fast for normal humans. He passed out from the force, but he should be fine in a few minutes.”
Seconds later, he groaned. His eyes fluttered open. “You did the running thing again, didn’t you?” he asked, staring into my mother’s eyes with so much love I kind of felt like I was interrupting a special moment.
My mother smiled at him. “I had to get us out.” Then she leaned down and kissed him. Usually, old people kissing really grossed me out. Every time my mother came home from one of her “business trips,” my parents were all over each other so much that once I had to down a bottle of Pepto-Bismol to keep from puking. I always thought they were way too excited to see each other. But now I understood that each time my mother went away, Dad feared for her life. He never knew whether she would make it back or not. And even though she had super powers, she was still human … mostly.