Anomaly

by Tonya Kuper

  I reversed out of the driveway and waited for Santos to pull up behind me.

  The ride across town didn’t take long. Crossing over Main Street, I moved with the flow of traffic. At a light, I drew even with a minivan. Two kids strapped in car seats stared at televisions in the back of the headrests. One older boy, five years old or so, dark hair, dark eyes. And a little sister with bouncing brown curls. The familiar strains of the Princess Sofia soundtrack echoed out of the open minivan windows. Normal people. Innocent kids. Plancks.

  I’d always known I was a bit different—weird, geeky, whatever you wanted to call it. But recognizing such profound differences between myself and the kids in the minivan, a weight of obligation settled on my shoulders with the force of a landing Y-wing. Those kids, Plancks, my brother…so many people depended on the Resistance.

  The light changed, and I drove forward.

  Santos followed me to the warehouse. He pulled beside my window. “Leave your car here. You can go in around the back.”

  Huh, this was new. “Oh. Okay.”

  “I can park it in the warehouse for you.”

  “Sure.”

  “Oh, hey, before I forget, here’s a new phone.”

  Uh, what was wrong with my old one?

  “I’ll swap your numbers over for you,” Santos offered amiably. Which totally triggered my Spidey-sense. Something was suspicious, but I handed it over before I thought better of it. If my number needed to change, there was likely a very good reason for it.

  “Nice cover,” he said. “You want the same one?”

  “Umm, okay.”

  He scrolled through my phone—what, reading/memorizing my contact list?—then he focused on the new phone he held in his other hand. A few seconds passed, then he handed me the new phone. “All set. I Pushed texts to all your contacts, letting them know your mom changed cellular plans, and this is your new number.”

  Uh…

  “Good luck, Josie.” His smile brightened his whole face. I could see why Hannah liked him. And speaking of my BFF, I really needed to call her. I’d woken to a text from her this morning, asking if we were going to yoga class later. That probably wasn’t happening.

  I got out of the car and tossed Santos the keys. He grinned and slid behind the wheel.

  Santos wishing me good luck tipped me off to the likelihood that my alternate entry into the warehouse was likely a test of some sorts. Immediately, my senses sharpened.

  Using the brick wall as my guide, I followed it toward the back of the building. A metal fence, barbed wire twisting along the top, stood like an impenetrable wall. When the fence went no farther, I found a door, almost camouflaged, and pulled. Nothing. It wouldn’t budge.

  I tried again. Bending, I examined the lock. If I knew how it worked, I could Push a key or something. As I contemplated how to break in, I thought about how such an act was actually breaking a law and it felt wrong, even if it was only to enter Reid’s place. Although I’d been instructed to “go in,” so maybe opening this door was the test. I studied the lock for a second. Wait. I could Retract the deadbolt…

  Heat, pain, nausea.

  The lock clicked, and the door crept open with a quiet squeak.

  A rush washed over me. I’d broken into a place by thinking it. In the next second, though, guilt crashed my little party. What was happening to me? I’d just silently celebrated breaking into a warehouse. I wasn’t Catwoman. This was so not right.

  I scanned the alley. I didn’t know who I didn’t want seeing me, but I knew I needed to be careful.

  I squeezed through the gate door and closed it behind me.

  “Hello?” The warehouse was silent. No sign of Reid or Santos. Not in the living room, training area, or what I could see of the kitchen. The place was eerily silent. Spidey-sense, indeed. I stepped away from the door and moved slowly across the vacant space.

  A bell rang behind me. I spun, but there was nothing there. The door remained sealed. There was nothing at the far end of the warehouse by the bay doors where Reid and Santos had parked their bikes. Where my car was nestled in beside their rides.

  I spun back around and started toward their living quarters. My pulse hammered in my veins. Something wasn’t right.

  Another bell rang. I spun wildly, searching for the source, and my foot slipped out from under me. My left foot joined my right, sliding down a rocky surface.

  A scream tore past my lips.

  My brain fought to figure out what was happening as my hands gripped for something—anything—because I was falling. My head swiveled.

  I couldn’t comprehend the giant, gaping crack I’d fallen into. A fissure in the ground at least eight feet wide. My fingers sunk into the cracked concrete, barely holding on. Sliding.

  Then I looked down.

  No end in sight. An abyss.

  Everything around me blurred, and all I could see was black. And in that blackness was the one thing I was terrified of: death. My stomach pitched and my chest heaved, but no air moved in or out of my lungs. I was suffocating.

  Ripping my eyes away from the darkness, I focused on my hands, still grasping at the gravely terrain crumbling beneath them. My right foot slipped, and my fingers dug deeper into the ground. It was a mixture of rock, and mud, and I didn’t know what. It felt like glass shards were being shoved under my fingernails.

  I dug in with my toes, using the muscles in my legs to slow my descent. I slid to a halt, but the rocks and substrate continued to crumble beneath me. I searched blindly for a sturdy foothold. My foot found a rocky lip, but as soon as I thought it was safe, it gave way. My right silver flip-flop plummeted into the darkness so eager to swallow me.

  Attempting to force my gaze upward, I focused on the contrast of the dark surrounding me and the bright light above, the line where they met. Technically, I’d die in broad daylight.

  “Think, Josie.” The voice was strong, demanding. It took a second for it to register. “Josie, look at me.”

  Reid. Reid was here. That’s where I was. I was at Reid’s place. I’d come here to train. I’m an Oculi. It all became clear as I broke free from the terror.

  I wrenched my head toward his voice, my gaze meeting his. He crouched above me at the surface, his eyes my lifeline because he didn’t offer a hand. He wasn’t about to coddle me. That wasn’t his style. He said, “Breathe. Think.”

  Dragging in an uneven breath, looking into his clear eyes, something clicked in the far reaches of my mind.

  Stairs.

  I Pushed with no effort. No headache, no nausea. I blinked, and stairs carved themselves into the side of the chasm, jutted out as if they’d always been there. With great hesitancy, I climbed the stairs on all fours, close to the wall. I could see the surface, right within my reach.

  Whoosh.

  The stairs were gone.

  I felt myself tumbling, falling. Flailing along the wall of the abyss with nothing to stop my descent.

  “React, Josie!”

  Think.

  I focused on the surface, on the light growing dimmer the farther I skidded. Earth. Ground beneath my feet. I Pushed. And Pushed.

  Pain. Nausea. Dizziness.

  Thunder sounded below, like the darkness of the chasm was rising up to swallow me whole. Something hit my feet so hard that it tossed me in the air.

  Up. Up. Into the light.

  My thoughts didn’t coalesce clearly, but I felt myself rising. The pain behind my eyes made my vision waver. I shot to the warehouse floor. Reid reached for me as I collapsed.

  My lungs rebelled, and tears burned trails down my cheeks. Dirt covered my hands and caked beneath my fingertips. One fingernail had broken to the quick. It bled sullenly. I wasn’t about to look weak in front of him, though, so I held out my arm to ward off his offer of help. I stood tall on trembling legs.

  Reid closed the gap between us, his arms extended like he would embrace me. “Josie—”

  The light streaming through the warehouse windows dimmed and
flickered. Darkness edged my periphery. I balled my trembling fist and slammed my knuckles into his cheek. White heat shot through my hand before everything went black.

  M

  y eyes cracked open to dust floating in beams of diffused afternoon light. The fuzziness fell away as I blinked. Santos was in the distance, punching and kicking a bag, and music played in the background, alt rock with a heavy guitar riff.

  My whole body was sore; my heartbeat pulsed beneath my broken fingernail. My right hand ached, and my knees were tucked in toward my chest. My hands were clean, and a bandage covered my forefinger. A heavy hand lay along my ribs. My pillow moved a little. I drew in a breath and, with it, a crisp, clean scent.

  Not a pillow. Jeans. Reid’s lap.

  His fingers ran over my ribs, down the curve of my waist, and up my back, as if he was tracing my hair. If I didn’t hurt so badly, I’m sure his touch would have brought on more tingles than it did. Still felt good, though. I didn’t know he had it in him to be so gentle. I slowly rolled to the back of my head and looked up.

  Reid’s chest expanded and his eyebrows pushed together. A red splotch sat along his cheekbone. Guilt bubbled in my stomach…until I remembered why I’d punched him.

  His hand brushed hair out of my face, his fingers stilling behind my ear. The sound of Santos hitting the punching bag stopped.

  “Are you okay?” Reid’s voice was gruff.

  I cleared my throat, making sure he could hear me loud and clear. “You are an asshole.”

  Santos walked past and whispered, “Awwwwkward.”

  Reid

  I

  pulled my hand off her waist, wondering if my touch had freaked her out, and repositioned my arm on the back of the couch. “It’ll probably come as no surprise, but I’ve been called worse. You didn’t have to punch me. That’s gonna leave a mark.”

  I could Push to cover it and alter my appearance, but I didn’t say that. I’d done that with the gash I received from the Consortium dude up in the Panhandle. The three-inch cut on the back of my head didn’t show—but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Josie threw a decent punch. Of the two, my cheek hurt worse.

  She struggled to sit up from my lap, and my hand instinctively slid under her arm to help her. She tugged away from my touch and swung her legs around, dropping her bare feet to the floor, and quickly jerked them back up. “Floor’s cold,” she muttered. Josie sat so close that I could feel her body heat. “You owe me a pair of flip-flops.”

  I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. “You’re concerned with your sandals?”

  “No. Not really.” Her elbows rested on her knees as she leaned forward.

  I Pushed pink Hello Kitty slippers onto her feet. To my surprise, she didn’t chuck one at my head. “You have to at least admit that was awesome training?” I said. “It showed you to be aware of your environment, required you to think outside of the box, to react instinctively…”

  Josie shot off the couch, standing in front of me. “I. Could. Have. Died.”

  I shook my head. She didn’t get it.

  She turned toward the door, but before she could take a step, I stood, snatched her wrist, and tugged. She crashed into me and immediately tried stepping back.

  “Hey. I know you’re mad, and maybe you should be, but this walking-away thing has to stop.” She’d pulled this storm-off routine when I snapped at her over the oak trees. Oculi, we took orders while we were training. We weren’t in the Hub, so there was no need for strict formality, but that didn’t mean I’d tolerate her walking out on me every time she got frustrated or upset.

  With a hand around each of her arms, I kept her there, planted in front of me. Anger raged in her eyes and flushed her cheeks. “Let me go.”

  I held her long enough to illustrate that she wasn’t escaping until I allowed her to. Oh, yeah, I knew it pissed her off. But I was angry, too. For a second, I thought she might force her point or try to instigate a fight.

  I had to make her understand. I lowered my forehead to hers. “I will never let anything happen to you. Ever. As long as I’m alive, I’ll look out for you. Do you understand?”

  She glared at me.

  “Say you understand, Josie.”

  After a few seconds, she nodded. “I understand.” Her jewel-colored eyes softened by degrees.

  I loosened my grip on her arms, but my fingers didn’t want to leave her warm skin. There was more I could say, but I didn’t. And if I stayed this close to her, I’d do something I couldn’t undo. I eased away from her. “You did well today. Better than I did with this same exercise.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’ve…done this? The same thing?”

  I gave her an affirming grunt before plodding back to the couch.

  To my surprise, she followed. “Oh, this I’ve got to hear!”

  Did I really want to tell anyone about my own training? No. But it was Josie. In the short amount of time I’d spent with her, she’d had this effect on me—like I couldn’t tell her no, like I couldn’t deny her anything. It was the most bizarre feeling. One I’d never known before. And I fought that feeling with everything I had. Every. Freaking. Time.

  Moving back onto the couch, she slid onto one of the cushions at least a foot from me, tucking a slippered foot beneath her. I needed to assure her that everything would be all right.

  Telling her about myself, about my own experiences, would help her understand what I was trying to do. It may also make her trust me more. I wasn’t sure if I could look at her, though. Instead I focused on her slippers.

  “When my mom died, I was sixteen.” She knew that. She and her family had been at the funeral. “Consortium related.” She didn’t know that. I hadn’t really told this story before. Santos knew bits and pieces, but I knew I could share the whole of it with Josie. “I wasn’t about to let her die in vain, so I told my dad to initiate me by fire. I wanted to be the strongest I could possibly be so I could show them we weren’t going to be controlled. Dad didn’t go easy on me. I think he wanted me to be as strong as him. Or maybe strong enough for both of us.”

  I chanced a glance at her. Anxiety masked her face as she nibbled on her bottom lip.

  “My dad did the exact things I’ve done to you. Scared the crap out of me with that chasm. Unlike you, I didn’t Push my way to the top. I hit rock bottom. He left me there in the dark.”

  She sucked in a breath. “That’s terrible!”

  “That’s training.” I didn’t want her sympathy. “And that wasn’t my point. When I faced the chasm, Josie, it took me a lot longer to calm my mind enough to Push my way out. I Pushed a ladder. Most Oculi, hell, most every trainee I’ve ever encountered, Pushes something basic—ladder, rope, stairs. That’s what Pushers do. Retractors remove the earth to create handholds and footfalls. Simple solutions. Pushing God only knows how many tons of cubic dirt like you did—yeah, that’s a first.”

  Placing my fingers under her chin, I pulled her face up to meet mine. “I didn’t stage that trial to hurt you. I’m doing this to make you stronger, like my dad did for me. I’m doing this for your own good. It’s to prepare you, to keep you safe. There are people out there who are coming for you, who’d prefer you dead. If for one second I didn’t think you could handle the practice, I wouldn’t do it. I’m the last person you need to worry about hurting you.”

  I hadn’t noticed that I’d leaned in to her. Six inches, at most, separated her parted lips from mine. And she hadn’t moved.

  Forcing my attention somewhere, anywhere, else, I relaxed away from her and focused on the punching bag hanging from the ceiling in our training area.

  “I’m sorry about your mom,” Josie whispered. “And I’m sorry your father left you in the dark.”

  Man, she was killing me.

  “I’m Pushing pizza. Want some?” Santos asked from around the corner, sending Josie and me apart. It wasn’t like we’d been doing anything, but we both acted like we’d been caught doing something.

 
“Not now, Santos!”

  “No thanks,” Josie said.

  She readjusted, sitting on both feet, pretending she hadn’t just recoiled like a spring to the far corner of the couch. “Um, w-what…” She stuttered for a moment. “What, uh, what happened to your dad?” An edge had crept into her voice. Her thumb bounced in her hand, like she couldn’t sit still.

  Everyone at the Hub knew I didn’t talk about my personal life, but they also knew why—dead mom, dead friend, kidnapped dad. But Josie didn’t know any of that. She didn’t know not to ask.

  “My dad? Well, unlike you, I grew up knowing about the Consortium and the Resistance. I’ve lived my whole life pretending around Plancks. Like your dad, my dad wasn’t on the council but was head of training at the Hub in Denver.” She was hanging on every word. “He disappeared about four months ago.”

  Her brows furrowed. “Does the Consortium have him? Where was he? Was—”

  “I don’t know.” It came out harsher than I intended.

  She eased farther away from me, not that there was much farther she could go without landing on the floor. “Man,” she huffed, her cheeks flushed. “You throw up steel defenses faster than Iron Man.”

  A laugh burst free. “You’re one to talk, Miss I-have-to-guess-everything-you’re-thinking.” She chuckled, which made me happy. There was so much dark, we had to find the light in small things. “I didn’t mean to snap. I don’t know what happened to him, and I don’t like not having answers. But I intend to find out.”

  Yeah, the fact that my father was being held by the Consortium or dead, like Josie’s dad, wasn’t lost on me. And by the look in her eyes, that coincidence hadn’t escaped her overly analytical brain, either.

  There had to be a connection to both our parents, parents of Anomalies, being in the same situation—Consortium hostages. After this serum drop, finding that connection was next on my agenda. That was, if we didn’t end up hostages ourselves…or dead.

  13.

  Josie

  R

  eid followed me home so I could have some downtime before I was supposed to meet another local Oculi that evening. Mom and I were driving together, and Reid would meet us there. Hannah was babysitting my little brother, thinking I was doing something physics related for the award ceremony, and Santos was keeping watch on the house. Of course, Hannah and my brother didn’t know Santos was pulling security duty, so he had to stay on the down low. Pity for Hannah; I was thinking she would’ve loved a little time with him.