A sick feeling came over me, and all at once things made sense. Carly had been dealing with this for the past sixteen years and my parents and I never knew. All the times she’d been incommunicado or flaked out on us and missed family gatherings, she’d probably had a good reason. Maybe she’d been protecting us by not saying anything. It was like the planet shifted and revealed itself to me. I’d been thinking trash about my sister, when really she was a hero.
“You might be thinking, Russ, that our tactics are extreme,” Miller said. “And I would agree that on the surface, it looks that way. But if you knew more about our organization, I think you’d understand.” He turned back to the computer and started an actual PowerPoint slideshow. Despite myself, I listened and watched. The first screenshot was a map of the world covered in dots. “We’re international and have headquarters in all the major cities. The official group name is the Associates, although you won’t find us listed that way anywhere. Instead, our members are present in government and business, anywhere structure and stability are needed.”
He clicked to the next image—an old painting of a serious man, the kind you see in museums. “We’ve been around for centuries. Our founder, Matthew Bradford, was one of the first to be exposed to the light particles, as you call them. He recruited others with powers with the idea that collectively they could make a difference. And they did.”
“Eventually,” Miller said, clicking to an image of the light particles on a field, not my field though, “the group figured out that these fragments fell periodically in various spots around the country. They also realized that the people coming into contact with them were teenagers, all of whom had insomnia and felt compelled to walk outdoors prior to and on the night of the event.” He turned to me. “What was it like, Russ? Was it as incredible as they say?” His voice had a wistful tone.
“Incredible, yes,” I said. “There’s really no way to describe it. And nothing in the world comes close, at least not that I know of.”
He sighed. “That’s what I hear.” We both stared at the photo of the light particles configured in a perfect spiral on the field. The photo had captured the shape and glow, but it lacked the glittering magic of the real thing. A picture couldn’t possibly convey the feeling the lights gave off—like the first day of summer vacation times a thousand. Miller moved forward in the PowerPoint, and we found ourselves looking at a timeline. “Although some of the initial groups were found out and condemned, the Salem witch trials being an example, those in our organization became good at covering their tracks. Using our talents, we’ve made improvements in the quality of life for Americans and others around the planet.”
“What kinds of improvements?”
“Thousands of improvements, mostly of the preventative kind. How do you think the United States became a supreme power with so much material wealth? Just between us, there have been Hitler types who have tried to seize power and who would have taken over, if not for us. While the citizens of our country sleep, we’re quietly working behind the scenes to do everything we can to keep the economy from collapsing and to keep order in our cities.”
It was a hyped-up sales pitch, but I didn’t challenge him. Instead I asked, “So not everyone in the Associates has powers?”
“That’s right. In fact, most of us don’t,” he said. “Some of us are scientists or politicians or handle the day-to-day operations. The ones with the powers, they’re sort of the James Bonds of our group. Well regarded and vital to our cause.”
“You send people on missions.”
“That and more. The Associates with powers are well provided for. When you join our organization, you’ll never have to worry about anything again. We can arrange anything for a young guy such as yourself. We make things happen.”
“What kind of things?”
“Anything you want. You want to graduate from high school early? We can arrange that. You want to own a certain car, maybe something sporty that will get the right kind of attention from girls? Amazingly, you’ll win one in a contest you don’t even remember entering. You want to go to Harvard? We can arrange a full scholarship and make sure you’re on the honor roll every semester until graduation. And the best part, my friend? You don’t have to do any of the course work if you don’t want to. In the meantime, of course, you’ll be working for us, here and there as time allows, and when you graduate, we’ll offer you a lucrative position working for any company in any city you’re interested in.”
“But I won’t really be working for them because it will be a cover. I’ll actually be working for you.”
“Bingo,” he said, pleased I was getting it. “You’ll be paid well, of course. Very well. And the benefits are endless. Best of all, my friend, you’ll know you’re making the world a better place. We would love to have someone with your talents on board. So,” he said, standing up, so that now he towered over me, “what would you say to that?”
“I’d say I’m not your friend.” I hadn’t planned on blurting it out in such a mean voice, it just came out that way.
A thin smile spread across his face, like he’d been expecting this reaction. “Fair enough.” He shrugged. “We’ll check back with you later this summer. I have a feeling you’ll be changing your mind.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
By the time they returned us to the parking lot across the street from the real Milwaukee Intermodal Station, Carly, Frank, and I were exhausted. Frank, in fact, fell asleep in the van during the drive back. We were in a different van this time around, but again, we were in a windowless back area. Our driver seemed to loop around endlessly, but there was no way to know if he did that on purpose or if we were on a direct route that just happened to be circuitous. You could have paid me a million dollars and I couldn’t have retraced our drive back to the building where I’d gone through the obstacle course.
Carly and I didn’t talk in the van. Both of us were emotionally spent, and we also knew the Associates were watching and listening. I’d gotten past it being creepy. It just was the way things were.
When we arrived at the lot in Milwaukee, the back doors of the van popped open. We climbed out disoriented, me half-carrying Frank, who moved sluggishly as if drugged. Carly got her spark back and angrily slammed the van doors to make a statement, but I don’t think it made an impression. The driver of the van didn’t get out or speak to us, just waited until we were in Carly’s car and then sped off, tires squealing.
After I got Frank situated in the back seat, Carly arranged his feet and buckled him in like he was a small child. With his eyes closed and his hair in his face, he looked young and innocent. I was glad he wouldn’t remember getting forcibly kidnapped from his home, but there was no erasing the fact that he’d been a victim.
Once we’d returned to their apartment and Frank had been settled into bed, Carly opened a bottle of red wine and poured herself a glass. “I’d offer you one, but I feel badly enough that I’ve exposed you to all of this. I’m not going to be the one to start you drinking too,” she said, sinking into a chair and setting the bottle on the end table. She had both hands around the glass like it was a lifeline. “Help yourself to a Coke. They’re in the fridge.”
“No thanks.” I was on the couch, appropriate since it was going to be my bed soon if we were going to perpetuate the lie I had told my parents—that I was sleeping overnight because I was staying to help Frank with a science project. Carly had discovered that Mom had left voice mail saying it was fine that I’d be at her place for the night. In fact, my parents were taking advantage of my absence by driving up to Door County for an impromptu overnight at their favorite bed-and-breakfast. So much for them being worried about me. I said, “I don’t know why you’d say you exposed me to this. I was the one who went out walking and saw the lights. You had nothing to do with it.”
“I should have paid attention,” she said. “If I had known Mom and Dad were taking you to Dr. Anton for sleep problems, I could have prevented everything.”
/> “But you didn’t know. No point in beating yourself up over it.”
“Easy to say. I still feel guilty.” She took a big sip, polishing off the glass, and then poured herself some more.
“So you’ve known about the Associates for sixteen years and managed to keep it a secret?”
“Yeah. I’d like to forget and just live my life like a normal person, but I can’t. They’re always keeping an eye on me. I don’t know enough that they want me dead, but I still make them nervous. They don’t like loose ends.” She looked into the red liquid and swirled the glass. “And now I have to get another cell phone. That sucks.”
A realization dawned on me. “Is that why you keep getting new phones and different numbers?” My parents could never get over how often Carly changed numbers. She always had an excuse—a problem with the phone carrier, a stalker boyfriend, a better phone plan. None of her reasons were convincing.
“Duh. Why else would I switch phone numbers all the time?”
“I don’t know.”
She sighed. “I used to move all the time too, until I got tired of it. Now I just do periodic sweeps of the apartment looking for bugs. I’m sure I miss some, but it sure feels like a victory when I find one. Then I squash it like a real bug and flush it down the toilet.”
“And all your boyfriends…?”
“The best of them have turned out to be undercover Associates,” Carly said. “Believe me, that’s a definite deal-breaker. I don’t trust men anymore.” She paused and added, “Except Dad.”
The time seemed right for me to ask her something I’d wondered for hours. “Carly, what’s a ‘second gen’? The Associates kept calling me that.”
“Oh that,” she said. “They think you’re the second generation to have these powers and that’s why you’re so good.”
“But I’m not, am I? I mean, Mom and Dad never had this happen, did they?”
“I think it’s safe to say Mom and Dad never had superpowers. They don’t know anything about this, and I hope they never do.”
“You never were tempted to go to the police?” I asked. “Ever?”
Carly scoffed. “And tell them what? That my high school boyfriend was exposed to a bunch of falling stars and could shoot lightning bolts out of his hands, but then was murdered by a powerful secret organization because he turned down the opportunity to join them? They’d think I was crazy.”
“I could show them what I can do, and then they’d have to believe.”
“Yeah, go ahead and do that. Then we’d all be dead.”
“Seriously. We’d all be dead? Everyone?”
“Everyone involved. Anyone who witnessed anything.”
Carly could be so dramatic at times. I tried again. “I can’t believe they’d kill a whole police station. What if we call a press conference and there are hundreds of people there to witness it?”
“Oh, Russ.” She shook her head sadly. “Have you ever read in the news where a whole community is killed in a flash flood or a tornado or a wildfire?” She met my eyes. “And then you think, ‘Oh those poor people. What a terrible random thing to happen. Mother Nature can be so cruel.’”
“Those things aren’t random?”
She exhaled loudly. “Those are the kind of things the Associates do on a regular basis. You have no idea how much power we’re talking about.”
“So now what?”
“One day at a time. That’s all we can do is live life one day at a time. If there’s a better way of dealing with this, I haven’t figured it out.”
“What if I talk to Mr. Specter—”
“No!” She sat up suddenly, the wine in her glass lurching from side to side. “Leave it be, Russ. Just let it go.”
“But I can’t let it go. That Miller guy said they’d be checking in with me later in the summer.”
“And they will. Put them off as long as you can, would be my advice. Try to get through high school and college at least. And when you join them, see if you can work in some capacity where you don’t have to kill people.”
“So you’re telling me to just give up?”
“Don’t think of it as giving up. Think of it as surviving. If you don’t let this go, you’ll wind up like poor Gordon Hofstetter with an apartment filled with maps and lined notebooks full of illegible scribbles. He made himself crazy over this and wound up electrocuted.”
“How do you know what he had in his apartment?”
“I stopped over when David’s parents were cleaning it out,” she said. “They gave me some photos of David and some other things. And when they weren’t looking, I found this and I just took it.” She had a gleam in her eyes as she pulled a chain out from under her T-shirt. An old key dangled off the end of it. “You know what this is for?”
“Haven’t a clue.”
“It opens the door to the old train station building. David had the key, and we used to meet there. It was like our own clubhouse. We used to go there to make out. Among other things.” Now she had a grin on her face and the old Carly was back.
I knew it had been boarded up for decades. I could only imagine what it looked like inside. “Weren’t there like mice and bugs and stuff?”
“Not that I noticed,” she said cheerfully. “We had a blanket. And of course, I had other things on my mind at the time.”
“How did David get the key in the first place?”
“His great-grandfather, Gordon’s father, was the train station master a million years ago. The key stayed in the family.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Nothing.” She slipped it back inside her shirt. “I just like having it.”
After polishing off her glass of wine, Carly got me a pillow, some blankets, and a spare toothbrush and left me to work it out. Sleeping on a couch is not the same as a mattress, but hers, at least, was fairly long, and I was dead tired. I knew I wouldn’t be awake much longer.
I sank into the pillow and pulled the covers up to my chin. It was then I was aware of Nadia’s presence in the room. Her voice cut through the silence in the room. Even in my head it seemed loud.
Oh, Russ, thank God you’re okay.
I could feel her relief. Until a second ago, I sensed, she wasn’t sure if I was alive or dead. I played it cool. Of course I’m okay. You know me, I’m indestructible.
I’ve been worried sick.
Where’d you go, Nadia? You were with me and then you were gone.
I know, I know. I’m sorry. My mom thought I was napping and she shook me until I was pulled back. I wasn’t able to be alone until just now.
I got a flash of her mother, an image in my mind. I saw her angry face, her hands like claws coming after her daughter. And I felt Nadia’s fear. I said, I’m sorry she treats you like that.
She didn’t question what I said. I guess both of us were getting used to being inside each other’s head. Instead she just told me: Some days I think I won’t be able to stand another minute in this house.
Hang in there.
I’m trying.
Nadia, I’m sorry, but I’m seriously falling asleep right now. I had a really tiring day.
Go to sleep. I’ll watch over you.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
I’d thought I was through with sneaking out of the house, but just after midnight on the following night I found myself creeping down the stairs, putting on my shoes, and slipping out the back door. It felt good to be out on my own in the dark. The night air was fresh and the slight breeze felt good against my skin. All familiar, but I wasn’t going to be following my usual route tonight. Instead, I headed straight to Mr. Specter’s house.
He wasn’t expecting me, but when I got there, the lights were on in his living room and over his front porch, which made me feel better about my late-night visit. He did say to come over any time of the day or night, but still. I rang the doorbell and stepped back so I could easily be seen through the peep hole. After a slight pause, I heard fumbling on the other side of the do
or: a deadbolt being released, the clinking of a chain fastener sliding to one side, and finally, the turn of the knob.
Even though it was twelve thirty at night, a big smile crossed his face as he stood in the open doorway. “Mr. Becker. What a nice surprise.” He held the door open for me, and as I walked through he said, “So to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”
“I need your help,” I said.
He nodded thoughtfully. “I think it’s best if we talk downstairs,” Mr. Specter said, leading me through the house to the basement door. When he saw me hesitate, he said, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ambush you. I’m home alone, and I’m quite sure you could overpower an old man like me if you wanted to.”
He was right about that. I followed him down, and when we got to the U-shaped couch I saw that it was true—we were alone. He turned on the overhead lights and switched on a floor lamp that stood behind the couch, giving us some more light. “I wanted to talk down here,” he said, “because this room is secure. I’ve spent a lot of time and money making sure it’s impervious to any electronic listening devices or any of that other spy nonsense the Associates use.”
“I could use a room like this in my house,” I said.
“We could use a world like this,” Mr. Specter said, taking off his glasses and polishing them on the front of his shirt.
“Were you expecting me?” I asked.
“No.”
“But you’re awake and dressed,” I pointed out. “And you didn’t seem shocked to see me here so late.”
He put his glasses back on. “I’m a night owl by nature and an insomniac on occasion. You’ll often find me awake at this hour, alone in my thoughts. I also like to read late at night. The world doesn’t intrude like it does during the day.”
I nodded, knowing what he meant.
“Am I right in guessing that you’ve had something significant happen lately?” he said, gesturing for me to take a seat.
Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 Page 25