“I heard noises coming from your room. I thought maybe you were sick.”
“Me? No, I’m not sick.” My heart pounded. If she asked to come in and checked the bathroom, there’d be no hiding Russ. He was six feet tall with broad shoulders, and the bathroom was the size of a linen closet. It wasn’t like he could stand behind the door.
She didn’t move and neither did I. We were having some sort of weird standoff. Mrs. Whitehouse said. “Is something troubling you, Nadia? Would you like to talk?”
“No troubles,” I said lightly. “Everything’s fine.”
“Because I know it must be hard being away from home and your mom and I wanted to let you know I’m totally willing to step into that role if you want some advice or need to vent or something.”
“I appreciate knowing that,” I said. “I mean, I’ll keep that in mind, in case I need some advice. Or to vent about something.”
“I really understand how it is for teenagers today, working in a high school and all. You wouldn’t believe what some of the girls tell me. Boy troubles, arguments with parents, the works. Hoo boy, I’ve heard it all.”
“I’m sure you have. You’re a good listener.” Lamest conversation ever.
“A lot of these kids really look up to me. Even after they graduate, we stay in touch through Facebook and what have you. One girl is taking care of my cats for me right now.”
“I would love to talk more with you tomorrow,” I said, feigning a yawn. “But I just took some Advil PM and I think it’s kicking in now, so I better go to bed.” A look of concern crossed her face. “Are you in pain?”
“Just a headache,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, then.” She reached through the opening and patted my shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know I’m here for you. Mallory too,” she added. “But especially you. In case you need someone to confide in.”
“That means a lot to me,” I said and then in a fit of brilliance added, “I hope when this trip is over that we stay in touch. I would really like that.”
She brightened. “I would like that too, Nadia. I think we could be very good friends.”
“Good-night, Mrs. Whitehouse.”
“See you in the morning, dear.”
I closed the door and leaned back against it in relief, listening to her footsteps clomping down the hall. Russ peered around the doorframe before coming out of the bathroom. “You have got to be kidding,” he mouthed, coming up to give me a hug.
“That was close,” I whispered.
“Too close,” he agreed.
“I thought she’d never leave.” I put a finger to my lips and opened the door as quietly as I could, then stuck my head out to look. The hallway was empty. I crooked one finger in the direction of his room. “The coast is clear. You should probably go.” The words contradicted my true feelings; I didn’t want him to leave.
He gave me one last lingering look and came in for a quick brush of his lips against mine, before disappearing through the door and into the darkness.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Russ
When I finally climbed under the covers to go to sleep, I’d hoped that Nadia would astral project to me again so we could prolong the evening, but no such luck. I stared at the ceiling and replayed my visit to her room over and over again—the way she grabbed my shoulders and leaned toward me, giving me the perfect lead in to kiss her. And then when we came together—wow, it was incredible. I tried to imagine what would have happened if Mrs. Whitehouse hadn’t interrupted. Up until that point it had been perfect.
This had been the longest day of my life, but at least it had a happy ending.
I mulled over my conversation with Mr. Specter. Much as I liked the guy, I’d decided he was certifiably insane. Who asks a high school junior to save the world? I mean, really. He wanted me to join the Associates, ditch all my friends, and report back to his group. There was no way that could end up well for me.
Besides, there was nothing in the world that could keep me away from Nadia, now that we’d found each other.
And so, as I melted into sleep, I made a decision. When I spoke to Mr. Specter tomorrow, I would tell him no thanks. They would have to find someone else to slide into the role of super secret double agent. Russ Becker had other plans.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Nadia
When he was kissing me, I didn’t even think about my face, not even once. For the first time, in a long time, I wasn’t self-conscious about my scars at all. And the best part was Russ didn’t seem to notice them either.
So that’s what it feels like, I thought, to be normal and in love. It was somehow exactly as I dreamed it would be and better all at the same time. I could still feel his hand brushing my hair to one side and the sound of his voice saying my name like he’d discovered something wonderful. I could replay the memory in my mind over and over again for the rest of my life and never grow tired of thinking about it.
Astral projecting to him wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying now that I’d actually touched him. Earlier I’d imagined that our spiritual connection had been the ultimate experience two people could have, but I’d been wrong.
I went to the window and pulled the curtain back, just to see what was out there. Without the pollution of city lights, it was easier to see the stars and the moon. My second story window looked down over a courtyard. I could just make out what looked like planting beds along the perimeter and a fountain in the center. Tomorrow I would get to see this up close when Mr. Specter let us explore the house and the grounds. Just as I was about to turn away, I saw movement down below, someone walking quickly across the courtyard holding a flashlight to guide them.
Mr. Specter. He must have crept out of his room very quietly, or I would have heard his door open and close. I watched as the spot of light aimed at the ground traveled across the courtyard. Where was he going at this hour? Weird, especially because he’d made such a big deal out of everyone staying in their room and how he himself needed down time. So typical to get rid of the kids so the adults could do what they wanted. I was having trouble trusting him now that I knew he was asking Russ to distance himself from the rest of us, and put himself in danger for the sake of the Praetorian Guard. His apocalypse story seemed pretty melodramatic to me.
I kept my eyes on the light until I couldn’t see it anymore. Letting the curtain drop, I sat on the bed and hugged my knees. How I’d love to be the so-called fly on the wall and follow him to see where he was going and what he was doing. Wouldn’t that be something? And then I remembered that I had something even better than being a fly. I clicked off my lamp and lay back on the bed, willing myself to relax. It was a form of meditation for me. It took a few minutes, but eventually I was able to loosen my muscles and remove the clutter from my brain. All my energy focused on one thought: Take me to Mr. Specter.
And whoosh, I was taken to a sort of sitting room, listening to a conversation between Professor Neverman, who’d traded in his bathrobe for actual clothing, and Mr. Specter, in his usual attire, a backpack at his feet. They each sat in an upholstered wing chair on either side of a lit fireplace, sipping from tea cups. A lamp on a round table next to the professor provided the only other light. “And what did you tell them was the point of this whole trip?” Professor Neverman asked.
“They think we’re looking for a man named David Hofstetter.”
“But you’re not?” The professor raised his eyebrows.
“No, he’s been dead for years. But it was a good excuse to take Russ Becker away from home base and test him to see how he’d do out in the field. It’s also a good opportunity to influence his friends at the same time,” Mr. Specter said.
“And it’s the last trip for you,” Professor Neverman said, shaking his head.
“All good things must come to an end.”
“But who would have thought it would have ended like this?” Professor Neverman mused, lifting the cup to his lips. “Except for you, of course.
Mr. Sees-the-Future.” Mr. Specter said nothing, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. The professor continued, “You knew all along didn’t you? All of this, everything.”
“Well, not everything,” Mr. Specter said, the words carefully spoken. “But a lot of it.”
“So you knew that I would get cancer, that you’d have to commit Praetorian Guard suicide, even that someday there’d be a Russ Becker who’d come along to save the day.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Tell me how the story ends, old friend. I know you were set on keeping it to yourself, but there’s no harm in telling me now. I won’t be here to see it. Or will I? How much time do I have left? You can tell me.”
“Not much, I’m afraid.” Mr. Specter looked pained. “A few weeks maybe? At the end it will go quickly.”
“Ahh.” Professor Neverman looked resigned. “Down in a blaze of glory?”
“Not necessarily, but that could be arranged.”
Both of the men chuckled, and then Mr. Specter pulled a flask out of his backpack and got up to top off the professor’s cup. As the amber liquid flowed, it was backlit by the fire. Brandy? Whiskey? I didn’t know, but it sure wasn’t tea.
“And Russ Becker?” Professor Neverman asked.
“He’ll do what needs to be done. I’m a little sketchy on the details, but I am sure of him,” Mr. Specter said. “With a little adjustment, he’ll be on board. Believe me, he’s solid.”
“And what about the others—the two girls and that tall boy?”
Mr. Specter shrugged. “Expendable. I don’t see them as major players.”
“What will happen to them?”
“They won’t be harmed as long as they cooperate. Their memories and attitudes will be, shall we say, ‘adjusted’ to our advantage. Some memories will have to be wiped clean,” he said. “We have some new technology in that area. Surprisingly easy to do now. Not like in the old days.”
“What memories would you want removed?” Professor Neverman asked.
“Anything that interferes with our goal. I sense a little romance starting up with Russ and the one girl. That’s going away, I can tell you that much. We need him unencumbered.”
“And if you can’t wipe their memories? What then?”
Mr. Specter said, “Then I can’t guarantee their safety. There may be some sort of fatal accident. Unfortunate, but we can’t have loose ends jeopardizing our work.” He sighed heavily. “Collateral damage. A necessary evil.”
“And you? Do you have your cyanide pill ready?” Professor Neverman said, sounding concerned.
“The equivalent, yes,” Mr. Specter confirmed. “I carry it with me always. Just in case.”
“And how will that go?”
“I’ll keel over from an apparent heart attack. My body will be cremated, and an urn containing my ashes will be transported back to the States. My affairs are all in order. The Guard will sweep the house and make sure anything incriminating is removed before anyone else can get there. And then, my nephew will inherit all my worldly possessions.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Along with all the crap in my garage. I’ve been meaning to clean it out, but just never got around to it.”
Professor Neverman nodded in understanding. “No one ever really thinks they’re going to die.”
“You always think you have more time,” Mr. Specter agreed. “But with the Associates targeting me, it’s either die or be killed. I’d rather be in charge of my own destiny.” They both sat quietly, sipping their drinks.
“I’ve been thinking,” Professor Neverman said, a few minutes later, “that your power, seeing the future, must have been an incredible burden for you.”
“At times. I didn’t always know exactly what I was seeing. I was able to avert some tragedies, but there was much more that I just didn’t understand until it was too late. The wildfire that killed eight hundred people last year? I saw that, and I knew the Associates were going to be behind it, but I didn’t know precisely where and when it would happen so I could do nothing to prevent it.”
“How awful.” Professor Neverman got up to put another piece of wood on the fire, and jabbed at the pile with a poker, making the flames flare and hiss.
“When I was young, I spent hours anguishing over my shortcomings. Every time something happened and I couldn’t prevent it, I felt personally responsible. When my powers faded and I stopped getting the visions, it was almost a relief. I still have notebooks filled with notes and sketches of the scenes that played out in my head. Trying to make sense of it all has been challenging. I’m a little unclear on the next phase, but I know it’s essential to have Russ on our side.”
They talked for at least an hour more, mostly about old friends and what they were doing now, names that meant nothing to me. If this were a normal social setting, I would have been bored, and found an excuse to leave the room. But there was no way I was leaving as long as they were still talking. I didn’t want to miss anything. I had to be the one girl that Mr. Specter mentioned, the one he said was romantically involved with Russ. I thought back—he must have seen us sitting together on the bus.
What did Mr. Specter mean when he said they’d wipe our memories? And how was it that I missed the fact that seeing the future was the power given to him when he was a teenager? And he was going to have a heart attack and die, and travel home as ashes in an urn? Hearing all this was horrifying and fascinating at the same time. I couldn’t keep this to myself. Should I wake everyone up? I couldn’t imagine how I’d do that without waking up the adults too. No, it would have to be first thing in the morning. Collectively we could figure out what to do. I sure as hell wasn’t having my memory wiped clean, I knew that much. I finally did something worth remembering; I wasn’t going to forget it, ever.
When the flask was empty and the two men had finished the last drop in each of their cups, Professor Neverman yawned and declared he was ready to head for bed. “The medication makes me so tired,” he said. “Even sitting and talking wears me out nowadays. I hate to be the one to cut the evening short—”
“No, that’s fine. We’ve had quite a good visit,” Mr. Specter said, rising and smoothing down the front of his pants. “But before I forget I wanted to show you my latest invention.”
“Oh?”
Mr. Specter set the backpack on the chair and rummaged around for a few seconds before pulling out what looked like a thick pair of goggles. He held it out to the professor, letting it dangle from one crooked finger by the attached elastic strap. “This is my biggest success yet. A major breakthrough that took a long time to perfect. You’re one of the first to see it.”
Professor Neverman turned it over to view it from all sides. “Fascinating.” He looked up. “What is it?”
“Remember the View Masters from when we were children?”
“Most definitely. I clearly remember my first. It showed all the wonders of the world. I still recall what a thrill it was to see the Taj Mahal in 3D.”
“Then you’re going to love this. Go ahead, put it on,” Mr. Specter urged.
The professor placed the view finder over his eyes and fumbled the elastic into place on the back of his head. “Not very comfortable,” he said, “and if I’m supposed to see something, I don’t. It’s quite dark in here.”
“That’s fine. Now close your eyes.”
“Close my eyes?”
“Yes, please.” A slight wait. “Are they closed?”
“Yes, they’re closed.” Professor Neverman sounded slightly perturbed. “What is this all about, Sam? It’s not fair of you to toy with me like this.”
Mr. Specter reached back into the backpack and pulled out a remote control. “Just give it a minute, professor.” He aimed and pushed a button. “This is very important so listen carefully. Keep your eyes closed until I say the word.” A pinpoint green light on the side of the goggles suddenly came on. “Now open your eyes, and stare at the screen in front of you. Do you see something now?”
“Oh yes!” Professor Neverman’
s voice was filled with wonder. “My, it’s beautiful. My word, I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“Keep staring. Don’t look away.” Mr. Specter pushed another button on the remote. The professor jerked in his seat and said. “Oh! It’s suddenly gotten very intense. This is incredible.”
“I know it’s intense, but you have to keep looking. Do not close your eyes!”
“I won’t!” The old man’s voice rose in excitement. “I’m still looking.”
“Now, listen carefully to what I’m about to tell you,” Mr. Specter said. “You will forget everything we discussed tonight pertaining to the Associates and the Praetorian Guard. You will remember this evening as two old friends getting caught up on each other’s lives. We had some laughs, shared some drinks, and reminisced about the good old days. Everything else we discussed will be gone from your memory forever. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” the professor said.
“Just for good measure, I will repeat it again.” And Mr. Specter repeated it word for word, ending with, “…and reminisced about the good old days.”
“The good old days,” Professor Neverman said in a faraway voice.
“Everything else will be gone from your memory forever. Understand?”
“I understand.”
“Excellent,” Mr. Specter said, chuckling and shaking his head in delight. He clicked a button on the remote and the professor slumped back against the chair, as if he’d lost consciousness. Mr. Specter removed the goggles from his friend’s head and then shook his shoulder as if to wake him up. “Oswald. Oswald? Can you hear me?”
Professor Oswald stirred. “I’m so sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to drift off. No reflection on you. It’s the medication.” He yawned. “It makes me so sleepy. Did I miss anything?”
“No, nothing at all. We were about to call it a night anyway.”
Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 Page 44