Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3

by Karen McQuestion

  Carly turned to her, hands on hips. “You’re going to be a chaperone? How did that happen?”

  Will stepped forward and held up a hand. “If you’d let us finish our presentation, we can take questions afterward.” He was clearly trying to gain control of the situation. “As it turns out, the subject of chaperones was next on our list. The NHSSI feels strongly about ensuring the safety of our students. To this end, we select members of the community to serve as chaperones. We find that it makes the families feel more secure and the students more comfortable when they have a history with the adult who is accompanying the group. The obvious choice, parents, are never allowed to serve as chaperones because we find that the kids need distance from home to maximize their potential.”

  “How many chaperones will be going with the kids?” Mrs. Nassif asked.

  “Good question!” Will said brightly. “We have a ratio of one chaperone per student, so there will be three on this trip.”

  Carly pointed to Rosie. “So that would be her and who else?”

  “Dr. Anton, a very distinguished child psychiatrist who lives and works in this area has agreed to take time away from his very busy schedule to accompany the students on this trip. We’re thrilled to have him on board. I understand that he’s already met some of you.” Will looked right at me when he said this. I dropped my gaze to the floor, uncomfortable. Who wants to be known as the kid who saw the psychiatrist? I mean, I wasn’t crazy or anything, I just used to have trouble sleeping. And as it turned out, that didn’t have anything to do with me. “And we’re still filling the third spot. As soon as we have a candidate, we’ll let you know.”

  “I’ll do it.” Carly got the words out before he’d barely finished the sentence.

  “Pardon me?”

  “I said I’ll do it. Put me down as your third chaperone.”

  Will and Mitch exchanged an awkward look. Even without speaking it was clear they were trying to decide who would handle this. Mitch finally took charge. “I think you heard Will mention that we never allow family members to serve as chaperones because—”

  “What Will actually said—” Carly’s voice was now loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “—was that parents couldn’t be chaperones, because you find that the kids need distance from home to maximize their potential. I am not Russ’s parent, I don’t live with him, and I don’t think my presence will inhibit him in any way. Also, he’s not going without me. That’s the deal. You want Russ, you’re getting me too.”

  “Carly!” Mom said. “What are you saying? It’s not up to you.”

  Carly ignored her. “My brother is not going on any of your trips without me, regardless of what my parents say. I go as a chaperone, or no dice.”

  The two men exchanged another glance; Mitch shrugged. “It’s not up to us, but I’ll be happy to pass on your request to the committee members who will be making the final decision.”

  Carly said, “You do that,” at the same time my mother was sputtering an apology for her daughter’s rudeness. I could tell that she thought Carly was going to screw up my chances to go. The rest of the room just looked uncomfortable.

  Finally Rosie spoke up, her gentle voice calm but firm. “I love seeing the family dynamics at work here. Russ, it must feel good to have a sister who loves you so much.”

  Carly’s look dared me to say something contradictory. My sister wasn’t one who was easily shocked, but I think I actually did it this time when I stood up and said, “Yeah, it does feel good and I feel the same way about her. And just for the record? I won’t go on the trip unless she’s a chaperone.”

  Mitch shrugged and then extended a hand to Carly. “Congratulations, you’re a chaperone.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Russ

  You know how during the school year you dream about summer vacation and in your mind, those three months seem like they’ll go on forever, but actually the time whips by before you know it? Well, multiply that speed by ten and you’ll know how fast the rest of the summer went for me.

  Now that I was sixteen, I could get a job, something I’d looked forward to since I’d started high school. A job meant an hourly wage. Money. Having more cash would solve a lot of problems, believe me. I filled out applications online and even had an interview at one of the fast food places in the mall food court, but no one hired me, which turned out to be just as well, because getting my driver’s license and going to the Praetorian Guard practice sessions chewed up my time way more than I thought it would.

  Of course, my parents didn’t know they were PG practice sessions. They knew them as National High School Student Initiative preparation meetings. They never even questioned why I had to go four nights a week and every Saturday morning for weeks on end.

  The first meeting came within days of the presentation at my house. Mallory, Jameson and I went, of course, along with our chaperones: Carly, Rosie, and Dr. Anton. That night, Carly came to pick me up after dinner. After getting Frank situated in front of the TV and making small talk with my parents, the two of us drove to a manufacturing firm in the industrial park on the edge of town. The sign said: Riverside Burial Vault Company. I’d looked them up ahead of time and found out that burial vaults, these large concrete boxes, were required by law in Wisconsin if you wanted to be buried in a cemetery. They lowered the vaults into the ground to hold the coffin. It kept the ground from sinking as the coffin deteriorated. The owner of the factory was a Guard member so it was a safe meeting place.

  Carly and I crossed the asphalt parking lot to the building. “You don’t have to do this, you know,” she said. “You can change your mind at any time.”

  “I know,” I said. “But I’m not going to change my mind.”

  She sighed. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

  Once inside, we were greeted by Will and Mitch, the guys who’d given the presentation at my house. Apparently, the earlier formalities were only for the benefit of the parents, because now they were dressed casually in jeans and T-shirts, and I noticed they also dispensed with the handshakes. Mitch picked up a large plastic container and guided us through an office space where two women sat at computers. “Tiffany and Allison,” he said, gesturing with a tilt of his head. We said hello and continued on until we reached a door that led into a warehouse half-filled with stacks of concrete burial vaults and car stops. Rosie and Dr. Anton were already there. A few minutes after we walked in, Will showed up, followed by Jameson and Mallory.

  I’m not someone who usually notices clothes, but a guy would have to be completely blind to miss what Mallory had on—a sheer tank top and short skirt, the kind cheerleaders wear. She gave me a big smile like we had a secret and flipped her ponytail at me. My sister caught all this and nudged me with a sly grin. “Focus, Russ. Don’t get distracted.”

  A second later, Rosie made the rounds, giving out hugs and saying she was glad to see us. There was the usual chatter about the weather and what everyone had been doing, but once we had quieted down and lined up, Mitch rested one foot on the plastic container and said, “Okay guys, before we start with the training does anyone have any questions?”

  “I have a question,” I said, raising my hand. “It’s about Nadia. Have you tried to get her parents to let her come?”

  Mitch shook his head. “At this point in time, it doesn’t look like Nadia will be able to join us. To be honest with you, Russ, we’ve never had a parent turn down one of our opportunities. Nadia’s mother is a tough nut to crack. We’ve offered financial incentives and scholarships, but she won’t even listen, which is making it difficult.”

  Mallory crossed her arms. “How about using mind control?” she asked.

  “We’re working on getting one of our operatives into the home under some other guise, but so far we’ve been denied access. As I said, she’s one tough lady.”

  I said, “How about just taking Nadia by force? There has to be a way to get her out of the house.” When we were in Peru, David Hofstetter had said tha
t Nadia and I would be essential to this mission because of our specialized skills, notably her astral projection. Having someone who could travel anywhere on a moment’s notice and stay absolutely invisible was like having the perfect spy on your side. If this trip was so important, wouldn’t she be invaluable?

  There was dead silence for a second before Mitch said, “Believe me, we’re exploring every option. If it can be done, it will. That’s not my job, however. My job is to prepare the three of you, and your job is to listen and learn. I will require your complete attention during these sessions. I can’t stress how important this mission is.”

  His partner, Will, said, “Any other questions?’

  “I have one,” Carly said. “What exactly is this mission?”

  “It’s a trip to Washington D.C. Our objective is to thwart a known threat by the organization known as the Associates.”

  “Yeah, yeah, so you said.” Carly waved a hand dismissively. “What I’m asking about are the specifics of the plan. What threat are we talking about and how are they supposed to thwart it?” She put finger quotes around the word thwart.

  “That will be covered later.”

  “You’re asking each of these kids to put their life on the line, and you can’t tell them what this is about?” Carly’s voice echoed in the cavernous space.

  Dr. Anton, who hadn’t said a word up until this point, only nodding when we first walked in, held up a hand. Even though it was summer, he had on a suit coat over a button-down shirt and creased trousers. The bow tie he wore today was polka-dotted, a fun accessory to a serious outfit. “Carly, I understand your reservations, especially in light of what happened to David Hofstetter. I have my concerns as well, but I have an inkling of what this is about, and I can assure you they will be safe. I spoke to someone at the top just last week and this mission involves national security. I was told that there is a major threat to the office of the president.”

  Carly’s mouth made a grim line. “And that threat would be?”

  Dr. Anton said, “The Praetorian Guard has reason to believe that an assassination attempt will be made at the Presidential Black Tie Bash. The target is most likely the president, but may include her daughter, Layla, as well.”

  “So you’re sending these kids right into the middle of something deadly? For crying out loud.” Carly spat out the words. “What’s wrong with the Secret Service? Are they on vacation or something?”

  Mitch said, “The Secret Service will be doing their usual exemplary job. We’re not worried about weaponry brought into the Bash; that’s impossible given the safeguards in place. The kinds of things we’re worried about involve superpowers and that’s where these three come in. Any superpowers utilized by the Associates can’t match what these three can do. Having them there is an added security measure. We very much hope that their skills aren’t needed.”

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” Carly said, sighing.

  Will said, “Carly, I know you mentioned being unemployed. We wanted to let you know that if you get a job in the interim, we have a substitute available to take your place on the trip. While we think it’s admirable that you want to be with your brother, we don’t want you to miss out on any opportunities.”

  Carly’s laugh came out in one quick, explosive burst. “Yeah right.” She gave him a withering look. “Well, I have to tell you that while I think it’s admirable that you’re thinking about me and my opportunities, I will be on this trip so there will be no need for a substitute. Thanks for mentioning it, though. I appreciate your concern.” I knew that Carly had been working for a temp agency—her solution to making some money between now and the end of summer. It was an agency she’d worked for before. This time around she was doing office work for a manufacturing firm that distributed fishing lures and hunting supplies. She hated it, but it was, as she said, better than nothing.

  Will nodded. I had the feeling he knew it would go this way.

  “Moving on. You will be fully briefed at a later date,” Mitch said hurriedly. “Until then they don’t want to disclose too much for security reasons.”

  Before Carly could object again, Will launched into what we’d be doing during these meetings. “We have two goals,” he said. “Number one concerns fine-tuning your powers, and increasing them if possible, and the second involves the logistics of the mission.” Each session at the warehouse would be considered training, he told us. We’d be practicing anything we might encounter on the trip. “This includes protocol for a formal event, ballroom dancing, understanding event security, and using your powers as needed. We want you to be over-prepared, if possible, so that you can handle anything you encounter.”

  “We’ll begin by working with your powers,” Mitch said. “Who wants to go first?”

  Jameson stepped forward, both hands in his pockets, like he was one cool guy. “No point in saving the best for last. You might as well start with me.”

  Mitch reached down, opened the plastic container at his feet, and pulled out a red rubber ball. Will then pulled out an electronic tablet, and started fiddling with the keyboard.

  “We're playing dodgeball?” Jameson asked, his voice all snark. He pointed at Will. "And he's keeping score?”

  “Not exactly.” Mitch walked toward the pallets stacked with burial vaults on the far side of the room. He stopped thirty feet away from us and set the ball on the concrete floor. He called out, “We want to test the power of your telekinesis, both for distance and force. Do you think you can make the ball roll from where you're currently standing?”

  Jameson sighed, the same way he did when he thought someone was being stupid. I'd been the target of that sigh more than once. “Yeah, I think maybe I can.”

  "Okay then!" Mitch rubbed his hands together eagerly. “Let's see what you can do.”

  Jameson rubbed his palms back and forth, mimicking Mitch, then wiped his hands on the front of his jeans. He held an arm out like he had Harry Potter's wand. “Move that ball!” he yelled.

  In the past, I'd seen Jameson make a salt shaker slide across a table, lasso a man with a leather cord, make a cell phone float in the air, and get pieces of paper to levitate in a circle, so I knew he had the power to move objects with his mind. But being tested on it was different. How was he going to do under pressure? The group’s eyes locked on the ball as we all watched for movement. Slowly, very slowly, it inched forward in a jerky, almost imperceptible motion. Mitch's face fell; he was hoping for more. Just then, I glanced Jameson's way and saw a glint in his eye; and that’s when I knew he’d been holding back. A second later the ball picked up speed, barreling toward us as if it had been kicked. Mallory shielded her face when the ball approached, but it stopped right before it hit her, changed direction and headed for the ceiling. It zigzagged up and down and then circled around us, going so fast that the air whistled as it went past.

  Mitch's eyes widened in amazement. And then the ball went straight toward him, struck him in the head and knocked him unconscious.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Russ

  Mitch’s head hitting the floor made a loud thunk, amplified when the sound echoed off the high ceiling. “Oh my word!” Rosie said. Instinctively, we all rushed forward.

  “I can’t believe you hit him that hard,” Mallory said to Jameson, as we stared down at Mitch who lay face up on the floor, his eyes closed.

  “I thought he’d duck.” Jameson’s words made him sound uncaring, but judging from the look on his face he was a little shaken up. I don’t think he had as much control over the ball as he wanted us to think.

  Dr. Anton knelt next to Mitch and checked his pulse, then searched his head for injuries. “I don’t believe that the ball was the problem. It was hitting the floor that did him in,” he observed dryly. “His breathing is fine.” Mitch’s eyes fluttered and he attempted to sit up. “Easy now,” Dr. Anton said, guiding him back down. “Why don’t you just lie still for a few minutes?”

  “I have an idea,” Will said. Wi
th all the commotion, I hadn’t noticed that he’d held back and was frantically typing into his keyboard. “Why don’t we have Russ use his powers of healing to bring Mitch back up to speed?”

  “Russ?” Dr. Anton said.

  I shrugged. “I can try.” I saw Jameson’s smug look and immediately regretted not sounding more confident. Once again, he was going to turn this into a competition. Well, if that’s the way he wanted it. “I mean, of course I can do it.”

  I knelt down across from Dr. Anton and let my hands hover over Mitch’s upper body to assess his condition. “The pain and injury are limited to the back of his head. It doesn’t feel serious.”

  “Probably just a concussion,” Dr. Anton said thoughtfully.

  I held my hands over the top of Mitch’s head and closed my eyes. I had done this before, but usually it was for far more serious injuries and I didn’t have my sister watching. Having her there made it feel weird.

  “Man, it hurts,” Mitch said, probably to give me a nudge to hurry up. It had the opposite effect though. Knowing that they were all waiting for me made me nervous. I willed myself to shut the world out and concentrated on pouring all my energy and concern into Mitch’s head. I ignored the sound of Jameson clearing his throat and Will’s tapping on the keyboard. In a few minutes, something inside me shook loose and I knew it was working. Such a relief.

  Mitch felt it too because he sighed and said, “I can feel the heat coming off his hands.”

  When I’d finished, I opened my eyes and shook my fingers. “That’s it,” I said. I hoped it was enough.