Before I had time to think about it, Russ and Jameson had arrived. Russ knew everyone, but Jameson didn’t so we went through another tedious round of introductions while Rosie poured glasses of lemonade and urged us to make ourselves comfortable on Mr. Specter’s large curved couch.
After the rest of us had been seated, Mr. Specter began. “I want to thank everyone for coming out tonight. I know it’s not easy to meet so late at night.”
“I don’t mind,” Kevin Adams said. “The darkness is my friend.” It was like something a character in a comic book would say, fitting since he owned Power House Comics and looked a little comic-bookish himself with his Elvis pompadour and superhero t-shirts. The rest of the adults chuckled.
I snuck a glance at Russ. I was the last one on the end of the couch, right next to him, but his gaze was on Mallory who sat opposite us. She didn’t seem aware of his attention at all. Typical, I guess. Love can be so one-sided.
Kevin added, “I can’t wait for the night time. I have my best thoughts after dark.” Russ had told me that Kevin Adam’s supernatural gift had been the ability to see right through things—X-ray vision. He’d used his talents to gamble his way to a small fortune, then came back to our hometown, Edgewood, to start his own business. Gambling seemed like a stupid use of an incredible ability to me. But people are going to do what they’re going to do. Logic and reason don’t seem to play into it all that much.
Mr. Specter directed his next bit to me and Jameson. “I’m not sure how much Russ and Mallory have told you two, so I’ll start from the beginning. The five of us—” he gestured to the other grown-ups, “were once in your shoes. We saw the same kind of astronomical event you four did, and afterward found that we’d acquired powers. We came to find out that unknown to the rest of the world, there are two secret organizations trying to wield control over those who have the powers. One of them, the Associates, is dangerous. Their desire for power, control, and money has no bounds. They’re ruthless and heartless and will stop at nothing to get what they want.” He paused for dramatic effect. I snuck a look at Jameson, who had a bored expression on his face. “Many of the problems in this world were caused by the Associates.”
Kevin Adams said, “Any time you hear about a riot or a war or a coup, you can betcha the Associates are behind it.” He grinned before taking a swig of lemonade.
“Don’t let this scare you, kids,” Rosie said, with motherly concern. “Most people in this world are generally good. The ones who are doing wrong are motivated by fear and anger and insecurity. That’s the important thing to remember.” Her talent had been reading people’s minds. I wondered about that. How much fear and anger and insecurity had she listened to over the years? Sometimes I got tired of hearing people’s voices. Hearing their thoughts was probably intriguing at first, but I was willing to bet it got old fast.
Mr. Specter continued. “I’m glad to be able to tell you that the Associates are not going unchecked. We’re part of the other group, the Praetorian Guard, sometimes known as the Guard. For many generations, the Guard has been keeping close tabs on the Associates, and counteracting their plans, when possible. We’re a smaller organization, but we have right on our side.”
“So what is it that you do?” Jameson leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. His white-blond hair stuck out from an oversized knit hat. In the indoor lighting, his pale skin looked almost luminous. Mallory had once asked if I’d thought he was good-looking. At the time I’d said no, but if we had the same discussion again I’d probably answer differently. I could see it now. With his coloring and fine features, he reminded me of a statue—an alabaster angel without the wings. He could be cold as a statue too, but maybe that wasn’t entirely his fault. His height and intelligence defined him. Feeling superior to others was all he had.
“Pardon me?” Mr. Specter pushed his glasses up his nose.
“You keep close tabs. You counteract their plans, when possible. But specifically, what have you done to keep this so-called evil organization in check?”
“Well...” Mr. Specter cleared his throat. As a high school science teacher, I’d have thought he was used to being challenged, but Jameson’s question seemed to have thrown him.
The room was silent until Mrs. Whitehouse said firmly, “Lots. We’ve done lots.” Of the five, she was the least impressive. She had a pillowy body, slouchy posture, pastel-colored clothing, and shoulder-length hair that looked like she cut it herself. The queen of frump. Still she spoke with authority. “Most of it we can’t tell you about, because it’s top secret, but the five of us have given up a lot in our lives to be part of this organization. We’re devoted to it and not because we want the glory, believe me. There is no glory. It’s just the right thing to do.”
Her words had a finality that didn’t make a bit of difference to Jameson, who was adversarial by nature. “Nice words, but a little short on real information. Personally, I like my answers less vague,” he said. “I’m assuming that you’re asking us to join the Praetorian Guard? You’re going to need a more convincing case to get me on your side.”
“Of course, of course,” Mr. Specter said soothingly. “Rest assured, no one is expecting anyone to blindly follow our lead. I think you’re getting a little ahead of things, though. If you just let me finish my explanation, we’ll take questions afterward.”
Jameson sat back, satisfied. Unlike me, he wasn’t afraid of conflict. I wasn’t going to just go along with the Guard either, but I didn’t see the point in antagonizing them. I was getting good readings off these people. They seemed sincere, and their lemonade was good. Plus, it looked like this would be my major social event for the month. I wanted it to be pleasant.
“Can I jump in here, Sam?” Dr. Anton asked, and when Mr. Specter nodded, he rose from the couch. Standing next to Mr. Specter, he addressed the rest of us. “I think we need to backtrack and explain a little more about the actual phenomenon. The light particles, as we call them, can’t be explained by modern science. They fall in a spiral pattern, they reoccur about every sixteen years, sometimes two years in a row, and they return to the same spot time after time. The individuals drawn to this spot are sixteen-years-old—give or take half a year—who’ve suffered from insomnia for months prior and feel compelled to walk outside. The adults in the surrounding communities feel more lethargic during this time, ensuring that they’re never awake to witness the event.”
“I can vouch for that one,” Rosie said. “I was living on Red Bull to get through my night shifts at the diner. Once or twice when the place was empty, I found myself dozing off in a booth.”
Russ raised his hand. “Why is it that the witnesses are always the same age, do you think?”
Dr. Anton shrugged. “There’ve been any number of theories. The most likely, in my opinion, is that there’s something specific to that age that causes individuals to have insomnia and gives them the urge to visit the site. It might be hormones or something else in the growth cycle. It’s hard to quantify without study.”
“And why us?” Mallory asked. “There are lots of kids in Edgewood within that age range. Why the four of us?”
“Because you’re special,” Mrs. Whitehouse said. “The chosen ones.” Her tone was the kind used with small children. I’d heard that her teenage supernatural power was being able to heat things up with a touch. Kind of a sad sort of superpower. Good for warming up a cup of soup maybe, but not much else.
Dr. Anton spoke up. “We never know who is going to be chosen. When the time comes, we watch and observe to see which teenagers show signs of exposure. It’s an inexact approach, but it’s the best we can do.”
“Which brings me to the next topic,” Mr. Specter said, pushing his glasses up with one long finger. “The generation between yours and ours consisted of five young people, one of whom was David Hofstetter. All of you met his grandfather, Mr. Gordon Hofstetter, who just passed away recently.”
“He didn’t just pass away,” Russ said, his face g
rim. “He was killed. Electrocuted.”
“Yes.” Mrs. Whitehouse said, nodding. “Murdered by the Associates.”
Mr. Specter and Dr. Anton exchanged a look that made me think they weren’t all that crazy about Mrs. Whitehouse either. I felt a rush of sympathy for her, wondering if she was the equivalent of the nerdy kid you find in nearly every circle of friends. The one you can’t quite shake. I hadn’t been to an actual school in more than four years, but I still remembered how the social scene worked. I just didn’t know it carried over into adulthood.
Mr. Specter said, “That’s a fair assumption. All five of them—they’d now be in their early thirties—are missing or presumed dead, including David Hofstetter. David’s grandfather, Gordon Hofstetter, was convinced his grandson did not die in a car accident as was commonly believed. For the last sixteen years, he’s been determined to find out what really happened. We believe he got too close to the truth.”
“Why would they electrocute the old guy?” Jameson asked. This time he sounded more curious than snarky. “If the Associates are so powerful, why not make it look like a heart attack or an accident? Something less likely to attract attention?”
Mr. Specter exhaled loudly. “Good question. Maybe to serve as a cautionary tale for others?” Rosie got up to hand him a glass of lemonade, but he shook his head. “And it should serve as a cautionary tale for all of us. These are serious people. You don’t want to publicly cross them. That was Mr. Hofstetter’s downfall. He was making phone calls to the FBI and writing letters to his congressman and I’m not sure what else. All of us tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t hear it.”
“May he rest in peace,” Rosie said, taking a sip of her lemonade.
“Amen to that,” said Mrs. Whitehouse.
“Which brings us to the reason I asked you all here tonight,” Mr. Specter said. “We have reason to suspect that Mr. Hofstetter was on to something, that maybe his grandson is indeed alive after all. And we think that the answer lies in Peru.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Nadia
“Peru?” Mallory asked. I was pleased to see the look of surprise on her face because it meant Russ hadn’t confided in her the way he did with me. “Peru like in South America?”
“What other Peru is there?” Jameson said, folding his arms.
Mrs. Whitehouse chimed in. “Actually, there are a lot of places called Peru. There’s a city in Indiana and one in Ohio—”
“To clarify,” Mr. Specter said, interrupting, “I’m talking about the country in South America. We believe the answer to what happened to David Hofstetter lies in Peru. Either he’s still alive or there’s other information we need to know. I’ve conferred with others in the Praetorian Guard and they’ve agreed to fund a trip to Peru, under the guise of a high school group class trip. I’d like to have all four of you come along, and at least two adults, preferably three.” He scanned the room to get our reaction. Judging from the expressions on everyone’s faces it seemed that Russ and I were the only ones not hearing this for the first time.
“What exactly would we do there?” Rosie asked.
Mr. Specter pulled a wad of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it, then held it up. “This is a hand drawn map with the latitude and longitude coordinates for three different locations, all of them in Peru. Gordon Hofstetter was convinced that this piece of paper had evidence of his grandson’s existence. I think we owe it to him to find out.”
Dr. Anton took the sheet of paper from him, and examined it, then handed it to Mrs. Whitehouse, who glanced at it and passed it on. As it made its way around the couch, I wondered why Mr. Specter didn’t mention that he’d gotten the map from Russ. He also neglected to tell the group that Russ’s sister Carly had been going out with David Hofstetter at the time of the car accident. Carly and David were in love, Russ had told me. These things seemed significant, but I wasn’t going to be the one to tell. I looked at Russ; his face gave nothing away, but we were sitting so close we nearly touched and I was feeling the waves of excitement that rolled off his body. He was looking forward to this trip to Peru.
Mr. Specter clasped his hands together. “For the younger generation, you should know that you’ll be traveling under the guise of an all-expense-paid class trip to somewhere in the United States. Your parents will receive notification that you’ve been chosen out of thousands of high school students, and that this is an honor that will look good on college applications. We’ll leave a week after school lets out.”
Jameson held up a finger. “If we go does it mean we’re obligated to join the Praetorian Guard?”
“Absolutely not. You can consider this a trial run and decide afterward how you feel about the Guard. No one is pressuring you to join,” Mr. Specter assured him.
Jameson sat back, satisfied. “How are you going to reconcile the fact that Nadia and I are homeschooled? My parents are going to wonder how you came across our information.”
“You were nominated by the homeschooling association. We were impressed by your test scores.”
Jameson nodded. “Okay. If you can make it happen, count me in.” He said it in an offhand way, like he was agreeing to share an order of fries.
“I’ll go,” Mallory said. “For sure.”
“I can make it.” Russ spoke quietly, but firmly.
“Nadia?” Mr. Specter directed this to me, and I squirmed knowing that even though my hood blocked my view of most everyone in the room, they could all see me.
“My mother would never agree to it,” I said, swallowing a bitter lump.
Mr. Specter said, “Maybe if we explain what an honor—”
“It doesn’t matter. She would never agree. I can’t go.” Russ reached over and rubbed my shoulder to make me feel better, but it made things a thousand times worse. I tried to blink back tears, but they came anyway, welling up in my eyes and flowing down my cheeks. I tried to unobtrusively wipe them away, but there was no escaping it. Everyone could see that I’d dissolved into a crying mess.
“My mom was strict too,” Rosie said, clucking sympathetically. “Her eyes were always on me. When I was your age, I wasn’t allowed to go much of anywhere.” She thought she understood, but she had no idea.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to rule the trip out, Nadia,” Kevin Adams said. “The Praetorian Guard has experience with convincing people to do things they might not be open to otherwise,”
“The Praetorian Guard has never spoken to my mother,” I said. Russ kept his hand on my shoulder, holding me steady. They had no idea how neurotic one woman could be. My mother wouldn’t even open the door to Girl Scouts if they weren’t wearing their uniforms. Phone callers didn’t get far before she hung up. She shredded junk mail if it looked suspicious.
“We’ll think of something,” Mr. Specter said, but I sensed he was saying it to placate me. “How about the rest of you? Who’s interested in going?”
“You can count me in,” said Mrs. Whitehouse. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Not me.” Rosie shook her head. “I’m afraid I’d have no one to run the diner in my absence, so I’ll have to take a pass.” She spoke like a mother of triplets asked to babysit a few more kids. Not going to happen.
“That applies to me as well,” Dr. Anton said. “I can’t be away from the office that long.”
“No way! You two are unbelievable,” Kevin Adams said. “You’d miss out on a chance to go to South America because of work? Please. Just do what I’m going to do, put a sign on the door that says ‘on vacation’ and close up shop. No one is that indispensable.”
“My patients might care to differ,” Dr. Anton said. “I have a few particularly difficult cases right now. Believe me when I say I can’t afford to go anywhere right now. Lives depend on it.”
Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Alrighty then, I stand corrected. Or maybe I should say I sit corrected.” He laughed at his own joke, but no one else joined in.
On my end of the couch, the mood was pretty serious
. I managed to choke back my tears, but I was still seriously depressed. I’d known what this meeting was all about before I even got here. I walked through the door knowing full well that I wouldn’t be able to go to Peru, and I thought I was okay with it. But I wasn’t. If I were Rosie or Dr. Anton, I would have figured out a way to go. If all that stood between me and this trip were a few patients on the edge, I would have assigned them to another doctor for two weeks. If I owned the diner, it would go dark. The customers would figure it out and get their coffee, eggs, and hash browns somewhere else. These were small obstacles. Given those circumstances, I’d make it work somehow because this was, I sensed, going to be the trip of a lifetime.
The trip of a lifetime for everyone else, but not for me.
CHAPTER SIX
Nadia
Mr. Specter promised to have more details about the trip at the next meeting. All of us lingered for a few minutes, finishing off our lemonade, the women gathering up their purses. Russ still had his hand on my shoulder, but he was looking at Mallory. Because we were touching, I could feel the emotion he was sending her way. Yearning pulsed out of him as he waited for a chance to talk to her. He couldn’t help himself.
I wiggled out from underneath his grasp and he turned as if suddenly remembering I was there. “Are you going to be okay?” His tone was kind.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I have to get going.” I stood up and made a pretense of straightening out my sweatshirt, buying myself time, time that I hoped he’d use to offer to go with me. But he didn’t.
Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 Page 29