Select Few

by Marit Weisenberg

  I returned to the bathroom and stood in the middle of the floor in front of the still-gushing faucet.

  No one had walked past me, and there was only one exit.

  I faced the bathroom stalls. Two doors were ajar, but a third was closed. I pushed it open and stepped partially in.

  Then I looked up.

  Like something not altogether human, a figure scrambled over the top of the stall and leapt. It happened in a millisecond, that thing crashing onto me, pinning me to the ground.

  Smothered, I used my elbow and fought for an opening. I managed to pry myself partway out from under the body that felt immoveable.

  “Come on. We don’t fight, and I don’t want to start now,” the deep male voice said, trying to sound soothing.

  Please.

  If I didn’t get out of this, John’s life and my life were over.

  In one burst, I got the body all the way off of me, climbed to my feet, and kicked off the hand that tried to grab my ankle. Falling into the stall door, I staggered backward. Daniel, one of the thirty-year-olds from the family, faced me. If a Puri could look even more perfect than the rest, Daniel did. But he had a completely different skin color than before; he was so pale that blue veins were visible beneath his translucent skin.

  My surprise cost me. Daniel lunged, his hand extended like a claw. In response, I flung the first thing I saw, telekinetically ripping a ceramic hand dryer off the wall. The dryer hit some kind of barrier and ricocheted back at me, smashing into the side of my head.

  The entire world tipped on its side, and I couldn’t hear. I lurched toward the exit. The moment I touched the handle of the door, the lock slid into place. My fingertips touched the door, and I exploded the lock. I opened the door and fell into the sunlight.

  Suddenly I was grasped under the arms and lifted up into the air as if I were weightless.

  I was abruptly dropped, hard, onto the ground and the side of my face smacked the cement. Daniel’s sneakers hurried by my face just as a noisy group of witnesses rounded the corner.

  I painfully rose to my feet. The people in front of me were blurry.

  “Are you okay? It sounded like a crazed animal back here,” a teenage boy said.

  I realized I’d been the one making those sounds I’d been hearing.

  “My boyfriend’s been taken,” I thought I heard myself say. I still couldn’t really see. I reeled to my right into a wide parking lot behind the facility, leaving chatter and debate about calling 911 behind me.

  Dazed, I saw a fleet of three white Mercedes. I wasn’t quite sure they were real.

  A tall man ducked into the first car, and it began to drive away, the other two slowly beginning to follow, forming a procession.

  In the last car, I saw Liv, but her long brown hair was now black hair. I was confused but then understood this must be a dream. Liv was twisted around, watching me through the rear window, her face growing smaller as the cars drove farther and farther away. I smiled and waved madly at her, swaying on my feet, knowing I would sit as soon as the good-byes were complete and the cars out of sight.

  The three cars stopped one after the other. The scene felt like it was happening on a giant screen, which is why I didn’t move a muscle when the tennis shoes swiftly approached. I held up a hand in welcome to Novak’s friend, Nick, not understanding why he had a pillowcase in his hand.

  When the pillowcase went over my head and I was tossed into a backseat, I still couldn’t catch hold of a lucid moment. I couldn’t remember what it was that was just out of my reach.

  Later that day

  JOHN

  For a brief moment at Kalamazoo, I had it all. I was still so upset with you, but I felt like we were going to be able to figure it out.

  I believed you and I were meant to be together. I’ve always said I don’t know why I went to Barton Springs that day I met you. It’s funny to think about now—how drawn to you I was the second I saw you sauntering in that parking lot with your tall sister. Looking like you owned the world.

  I knew what you said about me and your family might be right but I didn’t want to admit it to myself, even as I was changing. Because, to be honest, I liked what was happening.

  I’m sorry, Julia, for not listening to you. I’m sure you’re not happy about being right. I know I’m not. I’m pretty scared.

  I wouldn’t take it back. Once I met you, that was when my life really began. Everything about me made sense.

  No matter where this is leading, we had that time together.

  It’s crazy to say, but I think I should be dead by now. But I keep breathing, even with less and less oxygen.

  When I accept that I’m underground, it gets hard to control my mind, so I’m just going to talk to you. I’m going to pretend you can hear me, okay?

  Earlier that day

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I lifted my head, and someone gently pushed it back down. My face was damp inside the pillowcase, the air nearly used up. My body throbbed, my bruised cheek rested against a seat, and I could feel the vibrating of an engine. We were in the backseat of a car, I thought, before I went under, giving into the sweltering dark.

  My limbs were dead. I couldn’t control them or help as I was lifted and tossed into the air, then caught and better positioned in someone’s arms.

  “Careful!” I heard Liv’s distinctive, sweet voice. The grip on my arms gentled in response.

  The person carrying me walked up a flight of hollow-sounding metal stairs.

  The quality of the air changed, and I was dropped onto a seat in fetal position.

  Soon the airplane lurched alive and began to taxi, lifting off quickly as if wanting to flee as fast as possible. The screech of wheels folded under the plane, and we were suddenly airborne.

  I kept trying to swim to the surface, but the pain was so bad, I’d waver and sink. My barely suppressed panic seemed best avoided by staying in the darkness. There was a commotion in the back, the sound of tray tables being kicked.

  “Jesus. How much more does he need? He’s had enough to put down two horses. They metabolize it too fast.”

  Something clicked. In a burst of adrenaline, I was lucid. I sat up, clawing at the head covering.

  “Whoa. Whoa. Hand me the syringe.”

  “Get Liv to talk to her. You don’t need to give her any more. Liv?” A younger male voice called. I knew that voice.

  “You better sit down right now,” someone said scornfully. “You’re only here because she wouldn’t get on the plane without you. In fact, cover his head too,” the man ordered just as a needle slammed jaggedly into my thigh. There was a wave, a rush, and then black.

  Had it been hours or days?

  The moment I came to for real, it was like being kicked high into the sky, hovering above ground, able to see with total clarity before crashing down to earth.

  It was pitch-dark, and I was lying on a hard floor in a small space. The smell of natural gas was overpowering. And it was sweltering hot. When I rolled from my back to my side, the cage rattled.

  My clothes were soaked with sweat. One leg still wouldn’t move. I couldn’t stop thinking that this was where I would die.

  I’d tried so hard to hide John from Novak, and I’d almost made it. Or maybe Angus was right. They were always smarter, and they’d always beat me. It seemed laughable now that I’d tried to fight. If I’d known that all roads led back to Novak’s visions, would I still have walked out of my childhood home that night? Who had I thought I was?

  Where was John? I doubted I would see him again.

  Maybe they would leave me here as punishment for hiding John. By first pretending Novak was mistaken about John and then by hiding him, it had been the same as deciding to let the species die away.

  I tried to stretch my legs, but couldn’t fully extend them. The elevator was too narrow. C
laustrophobia began to rise up in my core. My thinking was quickly taking me to a place that would destroy me.

  I lay my head on the hard floor, rattling the cage. It was so quiet.

  John should have been by my side all summer. Not Angus. I had all of our time together in my memory. To keep my mind occupied, I thought about when John first told me he loved me and I’d been too scared to say it back.

  It could have been seconds or hours later when I heard his voice.

  I’m just going to silently talk to you for a while so I don’t go crazy. I have to take my mind off what’s going on. I hope you can hear me, but I don’t want you to hear me because it would mean you’re nearby. And I want you close, but I don’t want you anywhere near this mess.

  I tried to sit up. “John?” I called.

  It was silent.

  I realized John’s voice was in my head. That meant he had to be near, letting me into his mind for the first time in months in the hope that I could hear him. But he couldn’t hear me. I slowly leaned back against the bars, afraid to make a noise for fear I’d miss a word.

  He told me everything that had happened to him while we were apart. I heard him start at the beginning of summer just after his graduation party and trace his way through tournaments, motel rooms, all the way up to Kalamazoo. He told me what he had been thinking and feeling even before we separated for the summer. And then how he’d developed his abilities.

  I should have been there for him. I knew how tough it was like to go through that and do it alone.

  If he was feeling what I was, that air was very difficult to come by, it was amazing that he was able to keep his thoughts to me so clear. And then abruptly there was nothing. At first I thought he fell asleep or maybe I fell asleep. But when I listened hard again, he was gone.

  I’d lost all track of time. Periodically, the cage would unexpectedly lower. It moved in small increments, no doubt to terrorize me, slowly drawing me deeper into the black hole. It was disconcerting to have no idea how deep down I was. At one point I may have lost consciousness—it had been so long since I’d had water. The times I was alert, I’d try everything to mentally open the cage: to bend the bars, break apart the lock mechanism. I couldn’t do it. Over time, my efforts grew weaker until I barely had the strength to open my eyes.

  If I counted the passing minutes, I panicked. If I thought about whether it was night or day above, I couldn’t breathe. When I thought about whether or not someone would come to get me, the space began to feel cramped, and I’d try and fail to stretch out my limbs. What undid me completely was thinking about John suffering. When I thought about them not giving John any water, I began kicking at the bars. It took every ounce of mental control to focus my thoughts and stay sane.

  I was thinking about my mother and her beach community, listening to the rhythmic sound of the ocean in my mind when there was an abrupt, loud click, a whir, and white light suddenly flooded the space. My pupils dilated crazily, and I covered my eyes, waiting for them to adjust.

  As they did, I realized the metal box I’d been in was actually an open-air elevator that had doubled as a cage—an adult-sized birdcage. I was in a mineshaft, and this elevator must have been used to transport goods, not people. Now the cage door was ajar. I heard a distant door open and the clicking of heels on cement.

  “I need to check your vitals.” Those were my stepmother’s first words to me since I’d snuck out of her house thinking I would never see her again.

  “I’m pretty disoriented,” I said.

  “It’s the natural gases. And they also had to give you a huge dose of ketamine,” Victoria said with remove. “Just stay still for right now.”

  She came closer. She was forced to touch me when she held my wrist to take my pulse, but she dropped my arm the moment she was finished. I was surprised when she helped me to a seated position, leaning me against the bars of the cage. She handed me a canteen of water.

  I couldn’t stop drinking once I started.

  “Not all at once or you may be sick,” she said, annoyance in her voice.

  “Is he okay?” I rasped.

  “Shhhh,” she said sharply. I realized she was listening for my heartbeat. Victoria wore fine clothing from Austin, which didn’t seem to fit the reality of her new accommodations.

  “If I’m this sick, he won’t make it. You’re a doctor,” I said, implying some kind of ethical responsibility.

  For a second, I didn’t think Victoria would deign to answer me. Then, she said, “Novak is never wrong. You know that.”

  “I want to see my sister.” The stark room tilted, and I felt an overwhelming surge. I threw up. All over Victoria.

  She left without another word. Vomit pooled on the floor.

  Throwing up had jolted me at least half awake and I had a moment of clarity. I needed to find John. I used all my strength to pull myself to standing, immediately falling to the ground, my legs not working yet. Using my elbows, I heaved myself out of the cage, my last connection to the world above. I made it as far as the concrete landing, but then fell again, my cheek resting on the gloriously cooler floor.

  It was silent. A softly lit walkway with dirt floors and stone walls was before me. The construction was brand new, and the smell of gas was thick in the air. Straight ahead was a hallway. The door was open, and the hallway beckoned as if I were a welcome guest.

  I must have passed out only to be awakened when someone prodded me.

  “She’s still out. They almost killed her,” said a male voice I recognized.

  “So do we still move her? Victoria said she was fine.” It was a girl’s voice, one I also recognized but couldn’t place.

  The male voice said, “I think so. Let’s just do it. What’s the worst thing that can happen?”

  “She dies,” the female voice said.

  “Tell me where he is,” I said. I strained to look up at the voices. It was Paul and Emma. One former Lost Kid and one of Novak’s chosen ones who hadn’t been told to suppress all abilities. I wondered if all divisions had finally collapsed.

  “Is he dead?” I asked, scared to hear the answer.

  “We can’t say a word,” Emma said. Standing just behind her, Paul shook his head ever so slightly, indicating that John was still alive. They were expressionless. Calm. I didn’t know if they were happy or sad to be here.

  “Tell me. Where is he? Please, Paul.” But with Emma there, I knew he wouldn’t. We’d been friends once, but mainly due to circumstances.

  “Come on,” Paul said. “Let’s try it, Julia. Can you stand up?”

  My legs wouldn’t cooperate. “Can you help me up?”

  “I don’t really want to touch you right now,” Emma said, willing herself not to breathe in the vomit stench.

  Paul scooped me into his arms.

  Emma led the way down the dark hallway, burrowed deep into the earth. The rock walls made it clear we were in a cave. Then Emma stopped in front of a steel-fronted elevator. She did nothing but stare at the panel and then the elevator began its crank of ascent. Paul adjusted me like I was a rag doll. I was so tired and resisted the temptation to put my head on his shoulder.

  “You ready?” Paul asked me in a serious tone that made me wonder if this was going to hurt.

  The elevator moved down slowly, as if I were a scuba diver going another few feet underwater.

  “How is he?” I asked.

  “Sick.”

  “Paul,” Emma said.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” I begged. “Please.”

  “You lost that privilege when you left,” Emma said. “God, just let us get to the bottom. It’s easier when you can forget we’re underground,” she said to Paul. I noticed she was sweating.

  The doors opened onto a landing with hard-packed dirt floors and pebbled walls. The lighting was modern. It could have easily been confus
ed with a boutique hotel or spa, not an underground compound. There was more space on this level. Halls were wider. We walked through a lamp-lit living room with two large white sofas on layered throw rugs and a large white orchid on a low coffee table. Expensive works of modern art that I knew Novak had anonymously bought and then stored now hung on the walls.

  This floor felt different. My brain and body clicked into gear in a way that hadn’t happened since my family left Austin. You could feel the concentration of Puri presence here. But it had never been as palpable in my life.

  “Oh thank God, I feel better,” Emma said.

  Of course she felt it too. It felt like my entire insides were growing warmer.

  We proceeded down another hallway, but this one was different. It had one wall made of glass, giving me my first broad view out into the cave. Paul sped up, walking swiftly, but I saw enough.

  The new Puri world was finally revealed.

  The scene below looked like a strange, bustling town. The same symbol that had been carved on Kendra’s body was painted on one wall. A lavish living room, not unlike the large one at my old family home, was the center of a labyrinth with multiple hallways branching off. The design was reminiscent of a luxury hotel located in the jungle, all of the touches meant to distract the senses from the fact that this was a mine. A waterfall poured down a rocky outcropping in one corner of the room. Likewise, there were living walls of succulents. It took me a moment to realize the lush, tropical plants weren’t real. They were scenes plastered on the walls.

  For the first time, I saw what it meant for the whole population to let down their guard. I hadn’t seen my family in nine months, but so much had changed. You could now see energetic traces of light between them, a tangible sign that they were bound together as a group. No one used their hands. Water glasses gently slid forward. Chess pieces moved swiftly across the board untouched, both players sitting back in their chairs, eyes closed. There didn’t seem to be any verbal communication. The adults stayed on the sofas, mostly in a meditative state.