by Jeremy Scott
After another block of following them, the two men reached a corner and abruptly turned left. They were still two blocks ahead of us, and we were unprepared for the sudden change in direction.
“Crap,” I exclaimed. I’m not sure why we just assumed they’d keep going in a straight line.
“Come on, let’s cross the street,” Henry urged.
We scampered across Wabash to the sidewalk our targets had just been on and then hurried toward the corner. The candy bags were starting to feel like dumbbells, and the muscles in my arms were beginning to burn. This time we ran, but we managed to do it without making much noise. There was a concrete retaining wall lining the yard of the corner house, and by ducking just the slightest bit, we were able to hide behind it as we moved. We reached the corner, stopping a few feet short of where the wall ended, and caught our breath.
After a few seconds, Henry slowly moved toward the edge of the wall and leaned his head around it to look down the street. The images I received from him were turned at an angle as he tilted his head. It was a strange feeling to have a first-person view of a peek around the corner without doing any of the actual peeking, like Henry was a personal periscope.
Unfortunately, a giant sagging tree branch hung low over the sidewalk about two houses down. We could see a foot or two through the leaves, but the total view was obstructed. The branch almost touched the sidewalk.
“Dang it,” Henry sputtered. “What next?”
As he continued straining his neck left and right, trying to find some magical angle through the leaves that revealed a better view, I was struck with an epiphany: Henry’s right: you have super powers, idiot!
I concentrated on the drooping branch, focusing all my thoughts on it alone. Through the gift of Henry’s eyesight, I was able to see my powers in action even though I was still physically around the corner of the concrete wall. The branch slowly lifted, sighing back into a position it must have held years before, upright and tall.
“Not bad, Phillip,” Henry said, clearly impressed. “Not bad at all.”
But the congratulatory moment passed immediately for us both as we saw what the tree had been obstructing. I instantly regretted having moved the branch, because now there were four figures moving away from us. The new additions had similar capes, and I noticed all four sets of footsteps were in perfect rhythm.
“What in the heck is going on?” I said in frustration as Henry pulled back from the corner. I let the tree branch drop back into its former position.
“I don’t know, Phillip. Where are they all coming from?”
My bad feeling was coming back, this time much stronger. By this point, we were reaching the edge of town now, having stayed on the trail for several blocks. We’d started out following one man and now were outnumbered two to one.
“Hey,” he replied, playing devil’s advocate, “We’re not going to attack them. We’re just following them. We’re only trying to see where they’re going, okay?”
“Yeah,” I conceded, my lingering reluctance still showing.
“Look, don’t you want to know what this guy’s deal is? Who he is? What he’s up to?”
“Of course I do!”
“Well, then you can’t take your candy and go home just yet. We have to keep going. And they’re getting away if we don’t move soon.”
He was right. I did want to know what was going on. Who was this guy? And why did he have so many caped-crusader helpers? It didn’t make any sense to me at all. My curiosity got the best of my anxiety for the moment, and I nodded.
Henry stole another glance around the wall’s edge, and I lifted the branch again, but this time, the men were gone. Disappeared. Poof. He stuck more of his head around the corner to get a better view, but there was no sign of them. He wheeled his chair completely out from behind the wall and looked long and hard down the sidewalk. Nothing.
“Where did they go?” he asked, turning his head back to me. When his eyes finally trained on my position, we both saw Finch standing right behind me.
Chapter 16: Fire
“Hello, again,” he said simply. His voice was as friendly as his presence was creepy.
Instinct kicked in, which means we screamed like girls and ran away from the old man, rounding the corner we’d been hiding behind and taking off like our lives depended on it.
“Come on, Donnie,” Henry yelled.
Donnie! I’d almost forgotten all about him. He’d been quiet, as usual, just creeping along behind Henry and me, all throughout our attempts to play spy. I shuddered at the realization that I could so easily just forget about him. But, I reminded myself, I am blind.
In addition to being strong and stealthy, Henry’s new wheelchair was also very fast, and it was a struggle to keep up with him. I tried my best to quickly memorize Henry’s images, which he was still sending me, whether he knew it or not. It’s not easy to look where you’re going when your vision is twenty paces ahead of your feet, I can tell you that much. I stumbled and tripped as I ran, my cape flapping and snapping in the wind behind me. Donnie’s hands were suddenly on me, steadying me as he ran alongside me.
I reached up and pulled off the cowl and cape, tossing them aside for greater wind resistance. Also, I kind of didn’t want to die in a full Batman costume. We ran and ran for two or three blocks without looking back. We were certain there were hundreds of caped weirdoes and a kindly old gentlemen right on our heels, carrying pitchforks and tobacco pipes.
But when Henry finally stopped and whipped his gaze around, there was no one behind me. Another disappearing act.
We all gasped for air while Henry darted his eyes in every direction. It didn’t appear as though we were being followed. As I watched the images from Henry, a wave of recognition came over me. “Hey,” I said slowly, “I know where we are.”
We were near Mr. Charles’ farm—our practice field. Through all the evening’s adventures, I hadn’t realized we’d gone all the way to the edge of town. Just a block or so east, and we’d be at the tree line that marked the farm’s north boundary.
“Yeah,” Henry agreed. “Me too. Come on!” He turned and took off again, headed for the nearby familiar ground.
“Donnie,” I yelled, waving my arm for him to follow.
By the time we reached the tree line, we were all gassed. But we kept running until we reached the cornfields, stopping fifty feet or so into the grass swath that ran between the two large plots.
Air seemed to be in short supply, and we all doubled over in fatigue as we gasped and panted, dropping our candy bags to the ground.
And through the sound of the deep breaths, the old man spoke. “It would seem to me,” he said, “that running would not be a very effective strategy for you gentlemen at this point. It only wears you out, you see?”
Fear raced through me like a wave, starting from the tips of my fingers and toes. He sounded about thirty yards away, give or take, and the very fact that he was standing there was proof of his statement—it was futile to try and run away from him. He was a teleporter.
“Isn’t it funny, don’t you think, that … after following me for several blocks—poorly, I might add—and then being frightened into a flight response … you still somehow ended up at the place I was headed to myself?”
“Well,” Henry huffed, “we’d be happy to go somewhere else, then. Honestly … we don’t really want to be around you anymore. I don’t, at least.” He inhaled another deep breath.
“That’s certainly out of the question.”
I felt like I should say something. I searched my brain for something confident and defiant. But I found nothing. I was terrified.
“Well,” Finch said with a deep sigh, “I suppose you’d better come take a look at what I’ve been up to this time.” With that, he turned and began walking slowly away from us. He got about ten paces before he stopped and turned back around. “Let’s go, children! I have many things to attend to, and I can’t spend all evening with you playing deer in the he
adlights.”
Henry turned toward me and I toward him.
“If he wanted to kill us, he would have,” I offered weakly.
“If he wanted to kill us now, he would have,” Henry countered.
“Well, if he’s going to kill us either way, I’m at least going to see what he’s talking about.” I turned and started walking. After a few steps I heard Henry sigh loudly and then begin following me.
“Come on, Donnie,” Henry said.
Finch turned and continued down the patch of grass between cornfields toward a ridge fifty yards away, where the farmland dove into a valley. As we got closer to the ridge, I began to hear all kinds of noises—machinery, voices, concussive sounds. Something was lighting the valley enough to create a soft white glow just above the ridge. Little plumes of dust and smoke were scattered here and there, floating up as they disappeared into the night sky.
Eventually we reached the very edge, where Finch was waiting for us. And what we saw in the valley defied logic. Somehow, in the course of one evening, Finch’s workers—all in black capes—had managed to carve out a huge chunk of earth, creating a cavity ten stories deep.
Henry moved his gaze around, and I counted at least fifty men and women, all standing completely still inside a crater the size of a sports arena in the middle of Mr. Charles’ farm. Where the heck is that guy? He’s just going to let this happen? They were spaced apart in uneven increments, but the overall effect was that they were arranged in some kind of symbol or pattern. In the middle of the giant hole in the ground stood a strange square machine standing on four squatty legs.
We stood in silence as Henry and I took it all in.
Finally, Finch spoke. “Are either of you familiar with the story of Elben?”
We were, and he knew it. Every kid knew the story of Elben, the ancient one of our kind who had possessed every power all at once and had nearly decimated the entire population of the planet. Hearing his name aloud was cause for a shudder, but from Finch’s mouth, it rang out even more ominously.
“I see, then.” Finch added unnecessarily. “I wonder, have you ever heard of the prophecy which foretells Elben’s return?”
Again, both the question and his waiting for our answer were unnecessary.
The prophecy of “the one who can do all” was considered by many to be a load of hogwash. My father, for instance, did not believe in it for even an instant. Nor did the pragmatic Mrs. Crouch. But a twelve-year-old boy can find a way to believe in even the most unlikely thing when it’s scary enough.
“These men and women you see here have dedicated their lives to the belief that Elben is coming back. They, along with me, are Believers.”
The hair on my arms began to stand up.
Finch continued. “You see, long before America existed … indeed, long before America was even discovered, this place, this city—this very SPOT—was central to our people: your people.”
The whirring of the giant machine in the center of the crater distracted all three of us, and we turned to see it lifting slowly off the ground. In the center, a huge boulder could be seen being pried from the dirt.
“‘Be thee wary. Be thee watchful. Signs will appear but only to those looking. ’” Finch was quoting the well-known ancient prophecy regarding the return of “the one who can do all.” He went back into kindly old teacher mode. “Elben is the only custodian in history to have every single known ability. And Freepoint … was his home. It wasn’t called Freepoint, then, of course. But long before your parents gentrified this place into a heroes’ town, it was home to a darker power. And though dormant, that power surges still today.”
“So, you’re digging up the bones of Elben for some kind of goat sacrifice, then?” It warmed my heart to see that Henry dished out his usual bluntness to enemies as well as friends, though I suspected it was just a defense mechanism to mask his own fear.
Finch just laughed. “Sort of. But, no. Elben’s instructions for his Believers require us to make a few … how shall I say … preparations just prior to his arrival.” I immediately thought of my parents hushed discussions about the Believers as well as the recent kidnappings.
“Elben does not and will not require resuscitation. In fact, he’s already here. He’s already been reborn. We just have to find out who he is, which we won’t be able to do until he reveals himself at the appointed time. Until then,” he paused, true excitement in his voice, “there is much to do.”
“So you’re like the leader of the Believers?” Despite all my better instincts, I felt myself relaxing slightly. Perhaps it was Finch’s intoxicating tone that set me more at ease.
“Of these Believers, yes.”
“For a second, there, I thought you were going to say you were Elben,” Henry chuckled.
Finch smiled politely. “Oh, probably not.”
I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
“It’s likely that I’m something different … entirely.” He smiled strangely, then turned suddenly and called out to the workers below. “Time to wrap it up, boys. Get what we came for, and let’s get out of here. Company is coming.”
Company? Henry looked at me in confusion and then turned to see what the Believers were doing in response to Finch’s command, but to my surprise—and his own, no doubt—they were gone. The mammoth hole in the ground was gone, replaced by the peaceful cornfield that had been there prior to the hole’s existence. No sound, no light, no indication whatsoever that they’d gone. In an instant, just like that … it was as if they’d never been there. Had they even been there?
“Ordinarily, we have two options in situations like this.” Finch’s voice was more serious than normal, with an edge I hadn’t heard before. “Invite you into our clan of Believers or kill you.” He stopped there to let those words sink in. “Now, obviously you’re a little young to be Believers, and I’m not quite certain you’ll be willing to just pretend tonight never happened.” He was right on both counts. “So I’m left with a bit of a conundrum.”
“Look,” Henry said, exhausted. “If you’re going to kill us, just freaking do it already. Honestly … we already had a long and tiring night before even running into you, and I don’t think I have the patience for your games, okay?”
It’s funny how a few minutes of calm conversation can relax a person who should still be very much on alert.
“I don’t want to kill you, that’s for certain. But unless you can guarantee me that you two can remain silent about the events here this evening, I’m afraid I can’t let you go. The library … that was … something different. Not like this. This … we need you to keep to yourselves.”
“Yeah, right,” Henry scoffed. “Do you even have any idea how kids work? We can’t keep quiet about anything, man, much less a plot to take over the world that starts with digging giant holes in cornfields!”
“So then, you understand my predicament.”
“Should we even be afraid of you?”
“Uh, Henry,” I offered, too late.
“You’re not the bad guy, you’re just some … lackey. And you already sent your Believer buddies away too. So exactly why should we even listen to you?!”
“There is more than one evil in this world, young man.” All trace of kindness and warmth had gone from his voice, replaced by a chilling tone. “Elben is … merely one of them. Powerful, sure. But far from the worst thing there is to fear on this earth. You’d do well to remember that, Mr. Gardner.”
“Bah!” Henry waved his hand in contempt, grabbed his wheels, and spun around his wheelchair in dismissal. “Come on, guys; let’s get out of here. Grandpa’s going to be preaching for a while, and I don’t think he has anything more to say that we should listen to.”
Finch merely smiled and puffed on his pipe. I warily eyed him as I turned to follow Henry and Donnie, not wanting to truly take my eyes off this man completely. Something inside me told me there was more to Finch than we currently knew and that the rest of what there was to learn about him wo
uld be all terrible. But I also wanted to get the heck out of this situation as quickly as possible, and Henry had managed to create the first legitimate opportunity to do so. Finally, I turned my back to Finch completely, hoping against hope that “out of sight, out of mind” would become more than just a saying for one night only.
I shuffled my feet through the grass, following the sound of Donny’s footsteps and Henry’s wheelchair a few paces in front of me. I held my breath, waiting for a rebuke from Finch. For several steps, there was none. But any hope of easy escape vanished quickly.
Finch sighed audibly. “You guys are really going to make me do this?” We stopped, not turning around, and then continued walking. “I was really hoping to save the whole ‘display of powers’ thing for a little further down the road. And honestly, after Cleveland, I’m kind of surprised you aren’t a little more wary of my abilities than you are.”
Henry turned around, and following the images in my brain instinctively, so did I.
“Ooh, you can read minds AND teleport people! Some of the least-scary powers there are, mister. And now that we know you have an army of Believer whatevers at your disposal, well … maybe I’m not so convinced you have any real powers yourself anyway, okay?”
Before he’d finished his sentence, a blast of red light shot out of Finch’s eyes and scorched the ground near Henry’s left wheel. It was the single loudest noise I’d ever heard in my life, a high-pitched static noise, and the sound alone stopped my heart for a couple beats. The grass sizzled in the silence.
Henry, maybe stop antagonizing the bad guy!
I’m sorry, I didn’t know he had freaking eye-beams!
“That’s not all I have, gentlemen. You see, I’m an absorber. But a unique one.”
At this point, both Henry and I were afraid to do anything. I was personally still reeling from the ear-ringing eye-blaster we’d just witnessed in action.