Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3

by Karen McQuestion

  Nadia and I circled the thing to get a good look. I’d never ridden in a helicopter, but the ones I’d seen at air shows and on TV looked smaller than this one, and not nearly as impressive. Gun-metal gray, it gleamed like it was new and looked large enough to hold at least a dozen people. The front window was expansive and spotless. I put up a hand to touch it, giving it its first smudge, then wiped it away with my sleeve.

  David walked over to an electrical box on the far wall and flipped some switches. The ground beneath us, I noticed, was stable, no more trembling or rumbling, but off in the distance it sounded like a war movie. “This is our ride, kids,” David said, opening the door to the helicopter.

  “But how are we going to get it out of this shed?” Nadia wondered, voicing my thoughts exactly.

  David held out a hand to help her into the chopper. “Let me worry about that.” We got into the back and fastened our seat belts while he climbed into the pilot’s seat, put on a headset, and checked instruments on the dashboard. When light flooded the room, Nadia and I looked up to see each side of the roof rise upward, like a movable bridge. “Whoa,” she said, her eyes getting wide. “I didn’t see that coming.”

  When the roof panels were completely vertical, David started up the engine and the blades whirred above us. I have no idea what the decibel level was, but I can tell you that it was incredibly loud. It sounded like the engine was below our feet, and with the blades overhead, the noise enveloped us. I looked around to see if there were ear plugs or headphones for the passengers, but didn’t see anything.

  The chopper rose shakily off the ground and wobbled back and forth. I found myself holding my breath as we lifted up through the opening, hoping we wouldn’t hit the sides on the way out. Nadia squeezed my hand, so she was feeling it too. When we were completely out of the building, we hovered over it for a second, watching as the roof panels lowered back into place. It looked exactly like the rest of the buildings in the village—slightly rusty corrugated metal roof, wood exterior with peeling paint. Nothing from the outside said this house had a military helicopter stored inside. We lingered above the village, attracting the attention of the Peruvian people standing in the street. David saluted, and they waved back, some with open-mouthed wonder, others with concerned expressions. A baby strapped onto his mother’s back had his mouth open in what I assumed was an ear-shattering wail.

  We rose higher and now we had a good view of the ruins and Professor Neverman’s car, still by the side of the road. The Humvee was parked on the other side of the ruins and I strained to see if it was occupied, but I couldn’t see anything from this angle. Nadia too was searching and I knew we both were wondering what had happened to all the people who had worked with David. I hoped they were able to make it to the safe room David had mentioned.

  An explosion below rocked me out of my thoughts. All of my senses were assaulted. A fireball the size of an apartment building burst out on the ground next to the ruins, accompanied by a roar louder than anything I’d ever heard. Dirt and debris exploded outward from the site of the blast. Looking at the fireball was like looking at the sun. David fought to keep the helicopter steady, while Nadia covered her ears as if she were in pain.

  No one could have survived something like that.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

  Nadia

  My heart sank as I thought about the woman working the paper shredder who gave us directions to Room 138 and the blond girl with the cat eye glasses pushing the cart out to the loading dock. They thought it was their last day at this location. They had no clue this would be their last day on earth. I wondered if they had boyfriends, husbands, kids. They certainly had parents, friends, and relatives. I’d covered my ears to block out the noise, but it was also to block out the horror of thinking people were either burning to death or buried alive.

  And it could have been us. It so easily could have been us.

  The helicopter shook and David veered away from the ruins, rolling us almost on our side. I couldn’t help but look out the window, even though I felt a little queasy. It was then that I spotted a bus—our bus—stopped on the highway leading up to the ruins. Standing in front of it were people. I counted. One. Two. Three of them. I jabbed Russ in the arm and when I got his attention, I frantically pointed down below. I screamed to be heard over the noise. “It’s our bus!”

  In a flash, he realized what I was saying and unbuckled his seatbelt to go up to talk to David. I knew a decision had been made when the chopper circled back and dropped down so quickly that I thought I was going to be sick. As we lowered to the road behind the bus, I recognized the three people on the ground as Jameson, Kevin, and Mrs. Whitehouse.

  Once on the ground, Russ opened the door and headed toward them. I followed, even as David Hofstetter yelled, “Wait a minute—”

  “Nadia!” Jameson yelled, running toward us like we were long lost friends. He lifted me off the ground and swung me around. He set me down, and turned to Russ, “Where the hell were you guys?”

  Kevin and Mrs. Whitehouse came up behind him. “Where were you?” Kevin shouted, echoing Jameson’s question. “Why did you take off like that? And what’s the deal with the helicopter?”

  “It’s a long story,” Russ said. He pointed to the bus. “Where are Mallory and Mr. Specter?”

  Kevin cupped his hands around his mouth, “They went to the ruins looking for you.” Russ and I looked toward the ruins, but the only thing visible was a cloud of smoke and smoldering flames. Mrs. Whitehouse wiped a tear from her eye and I had the sudden sinking feeling that we hadn’t completely eluded death after all. I leaned against Russ, who I sensed felt just as terrible as I did, except he handled it differently. He huddled with Kevin and Jameson to get the lowdown on what had happened in our absence. The story was that back at the convent, when they’d discovered we’d gone and taken Professor Neverman’s car, they set out after us, guessing correctly that we’d head to the ruins. Once they arrived at the site, Mr. Specter took the keys and left the three of them in the bus while he and Mallory went to check out the ruins. He would be the advance guard, he said. Mr. Specter said that he’d check it out and then come back for the others. He thought that if Russ and I were in hiding that Mallory calling our names would get us to respond.

  Mr. Specter and Mallory had been gone a long time, Kevin said. Maybe an hour? “I was just about to go after them when the whole place blew up.”

  I looked at Russ and knew that both of us were sick thinking that Mallory was gone forever. And what a horrible way to die. I wanted to curl up in a fetal position and shut the world out. He felt the same way, but he was able to push the feeling aside.

  Russ said, “Get your things off the bus. You’re coming with us.”

  It only took a few minutes to transfer the suitcases and other bags from the bus to the helicopter. I was glad to see they’d brought my stuff and Russ’s too. David welcomed everyone aboard. There wasn’t time for pleasantries or explanations, although I did overhear Kevin registering the fact that our pilot was David Hofstetter, the very same David Hofstetter that we’d been in search of. “Get out. You gotta be kidding,” he said incredulously. I noticed that Jameson wasn’t saying much and Mrs. Whitehouse looked as grim as I felt. The copter lifted us into the air and we flew away from the smoke and destruction. It even smelled of death. And Mallory had been there. I didn’t want to think about it. I leaned back and closed my eyes wishing I could be somewhere else. Without planning it, I let my consciousness drift and thought: I wish I knew what happened to Mallory.

  I astral projected out of the helicopter and down to the ground, through the drifting haze of smoke close to the ruins. And that’s when I found Mallory’s body in a ditch by the side of the road. I didn’t want to look, but it was impossible not to. She laid on her side, like a doll that had been thrown out a car window. Her front was blackened, but from behind she looked the same as she always had, right down to her ponytail, still pulled taut in its elastic. She must have been
facing the explosion at the time it went off. Her face was sooty, but not burned. The lower half of her body had been on fire, though. I could tell because her jeans and part of her sweatshirt were charred and smoking. The blast must have knocked her off her feet; one of her shoes was missing and I could see her glittery red toe polish and the ankle tattoo her parents didn’t know about. I wished I could be with her in person. I would have moved her so that she looked more dignified. I would have wiped the grime off her face. Such a pretty face she had. She shouldn’t be alone in a ditch. I floated down directly in front of her face and out of habit, just like when I astral projected to her at home, I made my presence known. “Oh Mallory,” I said sorrowfully.

  Her eyes flipped open, shocking me. “Nadia?” Her voice was a croak. I saw her throat bulge with effort. “Help me, Nadia. Please, help me.” And then she made the most horrendous noise. It was a noise I remembered clearly from my time in the burn unit. Not a wail, not a cry. Something more primal. A noise from the depths of suffering. The sound of excruciating, unrelenting, unbearable pain. Mallory begged me for help, and made that awful, nail-scraping noise and then she lost consciousness again. Her eyes closed and she was gone. A person’s body can only handle so much pain before they have to check out.

  I moved away from her, taking note of her exact location, and then I went back. “We’re coming for you, Mallory,” I said. “Just sit tight. We’ll be here soon.” But there was no sign she heard me.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  Russ

  I sat up front in the helicopter even though I wanted to be in back to comfort Nadia and also to explain what had happened to the others in our group, but David had pulled me aside and warned me not to say too much. And then, maybe to keep me from talking, he had me sit next to him.

  “There will be a briefing later,” he yelled as the helicopter left the roadway. He said something about a team effort and confidentiality clause, but I had been there and I knew there was no team. It had been every man for himself. There would be nothing to stop me from telling Kevin Adams what happened later. I didn’t want him to think Nadia and I had just taken off without a good reason.

  I found myself sneaking peeks at Nadia. She had her head back and her eyes closed. She was worn out, and who could blame her? What a night. What a day. We’d probably aged ten years in a short time, and I knew I’d never be the same person again.

  I still had my eyes on her when she jerked upright, unbuckled her seatbelt and leaped forward. “We have to go back!” she shouted frantically. “Mallory is still alive. We need to get her.”

  His hands still on the controller, David said, “Sit down!”

  “I’m not going to sit down,” she said, right into his ear, gesturing wildly. “We need to go back. I saw Mallory. She’s burned, but alive.”

  David kept his eyes straight ahead. “Assuming that’s true, we can alert one of our team on the ground to follow up. Protocol requires we not return to the scene of an attack.”

  “Dammit,” Nadia said, tears in her eyes. And then she let out a string of curse words I’d never heard her use before. “I don’t care about your protocol. My friend is in a ditch and she’s dying. Russ, tell him.”

  I grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. “Go back.”

  “No.” His forehead furrowed. “We have no proof there’s anyone left behind. I will not risk the lives of six people for a hunch.”

  What a dick. I had no idea what my sister ever saw in him. “It’s not a hunch. If Nadia saw her, she’s there.” I grabbed his shoulder and spoke more forcefully, this time putting mental energy into convincing him. “Go back right now. You want to go back.”

  David gave me a look that said you’ve gotta be kidding. “Mind control doesn’t work on me. I have some powers of my own, you know.”

  “Yeah well, you might have powers,” I yelled back, “but you’ve got no balls. What kind of man leaves a wounded girl behind?”

  He gritted his teeth and didn’t say anything, but my words must have made an impact because the next thing I knew, he circled around and retraced our path.

  “What’s going on?” Mrs. Whitehouse called out, leaning forward.

  “We’re going back to get Mallory,” Nadia answered.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  Nadia

  Jameson, who knew I could astral project, understood when I said I’d seen Mallory alive by the side of the road. Kevin and Mrs. Whitehouse were confused, but accepted it as fact. Once again, it seemed like the adults were less in charge than they thought they were.

  The whole time we traveled back to the ruins, I had a frantic feeling in my stomach. Come on, come on, come on. We weren’t going fast enough. Mallory was alone and in pain. We had to find her before one of the Associates did.

  When the helicopter touched down near the bus, and Russ had the door open, I jumped up to go with him. David Hofstetter held a hand out to stop me, as if that would work. “You stay here,” he said. “Let Russ go with Kevin.”

  But as my mother is fond of saying—teenagers, they never listen. I pushed past him and once I got outside I took off running, with Russ right next to me, matching me step by step. I knew he could outrun me, but he needed me to show him the way. Glancing back, I didn’t see anyone else following us.

  When we finally reached Mallory, my heart dropped. She seemed half out of it, and was moaning from the pain, but was still positioned pretty much the way I’d seen her. Astral projecting hadn’t given me the full experience, though. In real life, the scent of burning flesh and fabric polluted my nostrils and made it hard to think of anything else. I gagged and got scary flashbacks from my time in the hospital. I have no idea how the nurses can stand dealing with patients in the burn unit. All those disfigured people in pain, begging for mercy. Sometimes, in my nightmares I lived it all over again. Seeing Mallory brought it all back.

  The smell didn’t seem to bother Russ. He crouched down next to her. “Mallory?” He smoothed a hand over her forehead. “Can you hear me?”

  “Russ.” The word came out as a forced whisper.

  “Can you stand? If I help you, can you get up?” He tried to lift her, but paused when she screamed in pain.

  “We’re going to have to carry her,” I said. “Maybe if I—”

  “I’ve got her.” Russ scooped her up, and she wailed into his chest and clutched his sweatshirt. He said tenderly, “I know it hurts. We’ll fix it.” He looked to me and said, “Nadia, why don’t you run ahead and see if David will move the chopper closer so I don’t have to carry her so far?”

  At that moment, I was overcome with emotion. I was relieved and overjoyed that Mallory was still alive, but sick to see her in such agony. I watched her writhing in pain and I knew what she was experiencing. But along with those feelings, I’m ashamed to admit, came an ugly twinge of jealousy. I felt Russ’s compassion, and concern and—yes, I’ll say it—even his love for Mallory. He looked like he wanted to kiss and console her. Ridiculous, I knew, but I couldn’t help feeling the way I did. Without a word I turned and ran back, fighting tears the whole way.

  By the time I got back and explained to David about moving the helicopter closer, Russ was already in sight, carrying Mallory through the smoke like they were part of a movie poster about the apocalypse. And everyone responded like they were in a movie too, like Mallory had come back from the dead. They rushed toward her, thrilled to see her alive and concerned about her injuries. I was able to hear every word because the helicopter was now off, giving us a break from the whirring of the blades and the noise of the engine. When I questioned it, Mrs. Whitehouse said, “David radioed Praetorian Guard headquarters and got permission to land. They said the area was safe.” David. Like they were already old friends.

  “How do they know for sure?” I asked. Bad guys could be lurking anywhere.

  “It’s their modus operandi. The Associates operate like a thief in the night,” David said, his voice tight. “They strike when no one is looking and leave be
fore anyone can retaliate. Cowards.”

  Kevin rushed forward to help with Mallory, and Russ barked out orders, asking if David had a blanket onboard that he could spread on the ground. “Move her inside,” David said, gesturing to the open door of the helicopter. “We’ll get her to a hospital.”

  Russ ignored him and had Jameson use his sweatshirt to cushion Mallory’s head on the pavement. She cried out when they set her down, clutching at Russ’s arm like it was a lifeline and she was about to drown.

  “There, there,” he said, stroking her head. “This’ll be over soon. Hang in there.” I watched him at work and knew what he was doing. He was going to heal Mallory’s injuries. Russ was going to take away her pain and make her as beautiful and perfect as she was before.

  David said, “Time is critical with burns. We need to get her to a medical—”

  “Russ is a healer,” Kevin Adams said, nudging him with his elbow. “Let him do his thing.”

  “Does anyone have scissors or a knife?” Russ asked, not taking his eyes away from Mallory. David went aboard the chopper and came back with a First Aid kit containing small scissors for cutting gauze and adhesive strips. Russ started to cut a slit from the bottom of her jeans up the front of her leg, but he didn’t get far when her screaming stopped him. We all realized then that it was so much worse than it looked. The charred fabric had burned and melted into her skin. “Someone help me!” she screamed. “Kill me. Make it stop!”

  Russ took a deep breath and put his hand lightly over her legs, concentrating with all he had. I could tell by the look on his face that he was pouring his whole self into healing Mallory. Giving it his all. Mallory thrashed around, and Mrs. Whitehouse held her steady. All of us watched intently as if our concern could somehow help. I saw David Hofstetter’s lips moving. If I hadn’t known he was a scientist, I would have guessed he was praying.