“How do you do that?” I ask and grin.
“How do you move your arm? How do you punch?” He asks me.
“I just do it.” I answer and shrug.
“Ah, but it all starts, up here.” He says and points to his head. “You have to think about what you want to do. Don’t worry about the how.”
“What did you think, then?” I ask as I look up at him, hovering in the air.
“I pictured myself, being where I am.” He replies. “Try.” He says and motions for me to come up to him.
I close my eyes, and try to picture myself rising slowly from the ground until my eyes are level with his.
“Well, I’m waiting.” I hear him say after a few seconds.
I open my eyes, and I’m still on the ground.
“I did what you told me.” I complain.
“Maybe you didn’t believe.” He says and crosses his arms.
“What?” I ask.
“Have you ever heard the saying, faith can move mountains?”
I shake my head.
“You have to believe, deep in your bones, that you can do this.” He tells me sternly.
Okay, I can do this. They tell me that I did this before. I did this before.
I repeat it over and over in my head like a mantra, and keep my eyes on Santiago’s.
Up.
“Hey, there you go.” Santiago beams, as I rise up to his level.
Something stirs within me. I feel all tingly in my hands and feet, but I feel something else.
A burning desire.
Tears fall from my eyes as I look down at my boots hovering off the ground. I look up at the slowly darkening sky, and my heart beats rapidly, and I yearn for the sky so strongly, it takes my breath away, and I begin to sob.
“Hey, baby steps, okay.” Santiago tells me, but the feeling is too strong.
“Up!” I shout, and rocket upwards at breathtaking speed.
My tears fly from my eyes as I gaze up at the sky, then a strange cloud begins to form in front of me. I accelerate and hear a weird boom far behind me, as I tear through the sky like a rocket. I hear another boom below me, then I hear Santiago’s excited voice.
“Holy shit, little lady. Woohoo!”
I laugh and push my fists forward, and bank to my left.
“Hey, slow down.” I hear Santiago’s voice far behind me.
I look down past my legs at him as he flies after me.
“Come on, old man.” I shout and laugh, giddy with joy.
“Hey, I’m only thirty-seven.” He fires back with a bark of laughter.
I grin and look down at the sandy colored ground far below us.
I feel so free. The feeling is indescribable.
As I lean forward and shoot towards the ground with the wind screaming in my ears, Georgia’s words replay in my head.
‘You’ll fly again. You’ll see.’
They were telling the truth. The realization hits me like a punch in the face.
I don’t belong here.
I stop suddenly and look down at the army base below, and begin to cry.
I have a family. A home. They’re waiting for me.
“No.” I tell myself.
They think I’m dead.
“Damn, girl. You are a fast learner. Rusty my ass.” Santiago says as he floats to a stop on my left.
“Santiago?” I ask as I catch my breath. “If you could stop all of this.” I say and look at him, teary-eyed. “What would you do?”
“Are you serious? I would do anything.” He replies fiercely.
“Thank you.” I reach over and grab his hand.
“Are you okay?” He asks and pats my hand gently.
“I will be.” I reply and smile sadly.
I let go of his hand and accelerate down to the ground, leaving a boom, and a confused Santiago behind me. I slow down as I swoop towards the fence. Once I’m over, I flip upright, like Santiago, and drop to the ground.
I find Pamela and Georgia sitting at a table looking at some maps.
“My friends.” I say, and they look up at me.
“You remember?” Pamela asks as she gets up.
I shake my head. “But I believe you, now.”
“You flew?” Georgia asks, and I grin in reply. “See, I told you.” Georgia says and pulls me into a hug.
“I wanted to discuss this wormhole theory of yours.” I say as I hug her back.
“Not now.” Georgia says, then picks up a walkie-talkie from the table. “She’s back.” She says and releases the button.
“I’m in the archives.” I hear Mitchell’s deep voice rumble from the walkie-talkie.
“I’ll show you.” Georgia says and takes my hand.
I let her guide me down to the back of the hangar, then she turns right and begins walking by some large containers.
“Do you really think it’s still there?” I ask as we head towards a large red door.
“Hard to say.” She says and tugs on my arm. “We know very little about wormholes. They’re still just theory.” She says and smiles down at me. “You’re the only person I know who has ever encountered one.” She adds, and stops near the door and pounds on it with her fist.
The thick steel door opens from inside after a few seconds, and a man in a black jumpsuit salutes Georgia. She smiles at him as she enters, and I follow her.
“Thanks, Rob.” Georgia says, then begins walking along a red carpeted corridor.
The walls are black with a white stripe painted at shoulder height.
I plod along behind Georgia as we pass various rooms. She stops outside of a gray door.
“These are the archives.” She explains, then opens the door and enters a well-lit room.
“Mitch?” She calls out, as I enter the room behind her.
“Whoa.” I blurt out when I see all of the shelves and boxes.
There must be at least fifty rows of shelves, and each one looks like it’s forty feet long. I crane my neck and look up at the shelves as they reach up to the ceiling.
“Over here.” I hear Mitchell’s deep voice call out from the other end of the vast room.
Georgia heads down an aisle with shelves towering over us, and walks the length of the room. As we turn at the end, we find Mitchell sitting at a terminal, with an older man standing behind him, dressed all in black. He’s wearing a black beret on his head, and I can see pale gray hair around his ears.
“Is this her?” The older man asks Mitchell, as he turns to me, his face wrinkling into a smile.
“It sure is.” Mitchell says, then looks back at the screen and turns a small wheel.
“Wow. Look at you.” The old man says as he takes my hands. “Back from the dead, and bright as a daisy.”
“This is Bill.” Georgia tells me, before walking by and looking over Mitchell’s shoulder. “Found anything useful, yet?” She asks him.
“Nice to meet you, Bill.” I say kindly.
He prods my head with a bony finger. “Hit your head, huh?”
“I guess.”
“Maybe if I shoot her in the head?” Bill says and looks over his shoulder at Mitchell.
“I doubt that would help.” I say and frown.
“Well, it’s an idea. Might kick-start that memory of yours.” Bill says with one hand on his side-arm.
“Bullets don’t hurt me at all, I’m afraid.” I say, and raise an eyebrow.
“But, thanks for the offer.” I add and he shrugs and turns back to Mitchell.
“This one’s toughened up, I see.” Bill says and sits down on a stool near Mitchell.
“Two thousand and fifteen.” Mitchell mutters as he continues to turn the small wheel. “Two thousand and sixteen, two thousand and seventeen......ah, that’s it. It stops after two thousand and seventeen.”
“What does?” I ask as I step up and look at the screen.
“Newspapers.” Mitchell replies and scrolls the screen back, using the wheel. “There.” He says. “This was the last issue.�
�
The screen shows the front page of The New York Times. I notice the date at the top.
“February 20th.” I read aloud, and Mitchell lets out a groan.
“Your birthday.” He mutters quietly.
The headline reads, WAR!!! There’s a photo of troops and tanks outside the White House.
“Are there any European papers?” Mitchell asks Bill over his shoulder.
“Of course.” Bill replies and gets up from his stool and heads over to a row of filing cabinets lining the wall.
“Let’s see....” Mitchell trails off as he begins to turn the wheel, scrolling the newspapers back. As he scrolls back to two thousand and fourteen, he slows down. “Here you are.” Mitchell says and sits back.
The date at the top is July 12th 2014, and I read the headline.
Cosmic Girl still missing.
There’s a photo of a girl in a costume hovering in the air. She has long brown hair and wears a pink Domino eye mask. Her hand is in the air like she’s waving, and a smile lights up her face. I read the rest of the article beneath the image, then look back at Georgia in shock.
“That’s me?” I ask, and she nods. I look back at the image. “Who’s Devlin De Marco?” I ask as I read more.
“He’s the one who gave us our powers.” Mitchell replies in a voice laced with anger.
“What happened to him?” I ask.
“After you disappeared, he......” Mitchell begins, and then closes his eyes.
“He destroyed the school.” Georgia finishes. “We couldn’t go home. We had to leave Chicago.”
“He was looking for you.” Bill says as he walks over, and hands Mitchell a small reel. “Then he vanished one day, back in two thousand and fifteen. Never saw or heard about him again.” Bill adds, as Mitchell takes out the reel of film from the machine.
“Let’s see if we can find something useful here.” Mitchell mumbles under his breath as he loads the new reel of film.
He turns the wheel slowly at first, then quicker, before stopping when the screen goes blank. He scrolls back to the last newspaper.
The newspaper has the words, Le Monde, in bold black print at the top.
“It’s in French.” Mitchell says as he looks up at Bill.
“Of course it is.” Bill says matter-of-factly. “Here.” He says and points to an article beneath an image that shows the tops of houses, a green forest beyond, and then in the distance are mountains. Above the mountains, there’s a column of black smoke. “It states that smoke was seen rising above the French Alps.” Bill says, then walks by us and looks up at a map of the world that hangs on the wall. “There.” He says and points.
We walk over and check the map. On the other side of the mountains is Italy.
“So, you think that Italy got hit first?” Mitchell asks Bill.
“It’s as good a place as any to start from, son.”
“Hang on. Back up.” I say, and point to the map of Italy. “You want to go to Italy?” I ask.
Mitchell shakes his head and looks closer at the map.
“There’s a few countries around there.” He mutters and points to a few. “Austria, Croatia, Albania, Hungary.” He says as he points at them. “They could have come from any of them.”
“I heard them speak.” I say and look at them.
“What did they sound like?” Bill asks.
“No language I ever heard of.” I say, and try to remember a few words. “Sto si ti. One of them said.” I say.
“Where’s Julian?” Bill asks Georgia.
“I saw him near one of the....objects.” Georgia answers, and Bill rolls his eyes.
“Why can’t he let it go?” Bill mutters as he storms off towards the door.
“Who’s Julian?” I ask, as they stare at the map.
“He used to work here, back in the day.” Georgia says as she begins to walk toward the door. I follow her, leaving Mitchell to stare at the map.
As we head outside, I see Bill’s retreating figure as he marches along the red carpet back towards the hangar.
“You might want to say goodbye to your friends.” Georgia says as we walk.
“What? Why?” I ask.
“It looks like we’re going on a trip.” She says, and smiles sadly at me.
“We’ll be back, though. Right?” I ask.
She shrugs and sighs.
Eighteen
When we get to the hangar, I get ambushed by Abigail, Samantha and Rebecca.
“Where the hell have you been?” Samantha asks.
“Sorry. I’ve been busy.” I say as I stop and crouch down to Abigail. “Guess what?” I ask Abigail playfully.
She leans in, wide-eyed. “What?”
“I can fly.” I tell her, and she jumps up and down.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.” She gushes.
“Really?” Samantha asks.
“Yep.” I say and stand up. I raise my arms and will myself up into the air a few feet.
“I’m so jealous.” Abigail says as I land softly.
“We have to go.” Georgia says and starts to walk away.
“I need to go. But I’m glad you’re here.” I say, and Abigail and Rebecca frown at me.
“Where are you going?” Abigail asks.
“Europe.” I answer, and Samantha gapes at me.
“Europe? Why?” Samantha asks.
“That’s where these things first appeared. We need to find where they’re being made.”
“What the hell? Being made?” Samantha asks angrily.
“That’s right.” I say as I face them. “These things are man-made.” I tell them, and they look at each other in shock, except for Abigail. She pulls on my hand, and I drop to my knee.
“You promised that you would set things right.” Abigail says.
“That’s right. I did.” I nod my head, and she wraps her arms around my neck. I hold her gently and stroke her hair.
“I love you.” She whispers in my ear, then she pulls away, rubbing her eyes.
“I’ll never forget you.” I tell her, and she backs away crying.
“I don’t understand.” Rebecca says as she watches us both.
Abigail smiles sadly at me as she backs away, then she turns and runs off.
“Take care.” I tell Samantha as I stand up. “Tell the others, that I’ll miss them.”
Samantha nods, then lunges forward, wrapping her arms around me.
“Be careful out there.” She says in my ear, then she pulls away as Rebecca turns and runs after Abigail.
I brush a tear from my cheek. Mitchell marches past us, and I grip Samantha’s shoulder gently, then turn and follow him. I catch up to him as he strides across the hangar past a dozen occupied beds. Their occupants look up at us as we storm past. We find Georgia, Bill and Pamela standing near a strange metallic cube. Bill is talking to another old man. The other man is running his hands over the cube, his eyes are closed and his lips are moving, like he’s mumbling something.
“Julian? Come on. Sto si ti. Have you heard it before?” Bill asks impatiently and taps his foot.
“Hell.” Julian mumbles as he continues feeling the metal cube. There are odd inscriptions on one side, and he runs his fingers over it, over and over.
“Julian?” Bill asks and prods the man with his finger.
The man’s head whips around and he glares at Bill, and pushes his wire-framed spectacles up his nose. Julian smooth’s down his dirty lab coat with his hands and stands up straighter.
“Your hearing getting bad again, Bill?” Julian asks.
“Are you going to answer me, damn it?” Bill asks and takes a step closer to Julian, who just blinks back.
“I did. Hell. Well, it actually translates to, what the hell are you?” Julian replies slowly, like he’s talking to an idiot.
“What language?” I ask, and Julian looks at me.
“It’s Croatian.” He answers mildly. “You don’t hear it very often. Where did you hear it?” He asks me excitedl
y.
“Thanks.” Bill says and I start walking away toward the hangar entrance, to get some air.
“That helps narrow it down a bit.” Bill says, as Georgia and Pamela join me.
“It will do.” Mitchell says bluntly as he arrives and stands near me, looking up at the starry night sky.
“Okay. What’s the plan?” I ask Mitchell and fold my arms.
Mitchell looks down at me, then chuckles.
“Our plans never work.” He says and brushes some hair from my face. “Let’s just go there, and kick some serious butt.”
“Now that’s a plan I can get behind.” I say and grin.
He reaches for my face, before dropping his hand and sighing.
“I’ve missed you.” He says quietly.
I blink up at his scarred face and smile apologetically.
I wish I could remember.
I notice Georgia turn away, before fading away until there’s nothing there. I turn to Pamela and Mitchell, but they carry on like nothing has happened. Pamela grabs her walkie-talkie and presses the button.
“Santiago. Suit up.” Pamela says into the walkie-talkie.
“Dad!” Someone shouts from the darkness, and I hear an in-rush of wind.
A young man in army fatigues materializes next to Mitchell, with a rifle slung over his shoulder.
“Where are you going?” The young man asks anxiously.
“We have to go take care of something.” Mitchell says softly and places his hand on the man’s shoulder. “You’re in charge now.” He says.
“Where are you going? I want to come too.” The young man says and looks at us.
“I won’t allow that. Your place is here.”
“But, Dad...”
“I need you to protect these people.” Mitchell says and points to the hangar behind us. “I’m trusting their lives to you.”
His son stands up straight, and looks Mitchell in the eye.
“Yes, sir.”
His son isn’t as large, physically as Mitchell, but he’s just as tall, and has the same eyes.
Mitchell cups his son’s face in his hands, and plants a kiss on his forehead. “I love you, son.” Then he releases him and looks up as Santiago swoops down and lands near Pamela.
“I have one last thing for you to do for me.” Mitchell tells his son.
Cosmic Girl: Lost & Found: Superhero series for young adults - Book Three. Page 12