Pretty Monster

by Somers, Jill

  “That’s right,” Quinn said, sticking her chin up. “I’m a hero.”

  Haley laughed, but there was a heaviness in her eyes. “You’re going to have to be,” she said heavily. “We both are.”

  • • •

  Quinn went back to Dash’s room after her watch was over. She knew she was supposed to sleep on the fourth floor with all the other members of the resistance, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She had lived alone for so long. Living with one person had been enough of a change for her, but this? Living with a hundred?

  He was asleep when she reached his room, but he had left the door unlocked for her. She hesitated when she entered, wondering whether she should just curl up on the floor or in the bathtub, not wanting to invade his space more than she already had. But watching him sleep, she just wanted to be close to him. If they were all going to die, she might as well soak up her last remaining moments with him.

  She only got a few hours in before his alarm went off, waking both of them up. She groaned, yanking her pillow over her head and kicking her feet in protest. He laughed out loud, pulling the pillow off her head and looking her in the eyes.

  “I shouldn’t be surprised you’re not a morning person,” he teased.

  She glared at him, but he kissed her before she had the chance to object.

  “Sorry for totally invading your personal space,” she said when he pulled away from her, stepping out of bed to get dressed. “It’s kind of a shock to my system, that whole community living thing they’ve got going on up there.”

  “You are welcome here,” he told her, pulling on his pants and a t-shirt, “any time you like.”

  She tried not to beam too obviously.

  “I’m going to grab some breakfast before power tech,” he told her. “You want to join me?”

  She considered, but she’d had quite enough of the dining hall for the time being. “That’s okay. I’ll catch up with you at power tech.”

  “I’ll bring you a muffin,” he said with a wink as he headed out.

  She stayed there for a few minutes, taking it all in. How things had gone from so bad to so good, so quickly. How ‘good’ was quite a relative term, given their imminent demise.

  She sighed, heading for the door herself. She’d shower when she was dead, she reckoned. For now, she’d go check on Rory.

  • • •

  She found her telepathic partner in the living quarters, the very place she had been trying so desperately to avoid. Rory was already glaring at her when she arrived.

  “I get that you don’t want to sleep here,” Rory grumbled, “but you could at least offer to take me with you. I’m sure Dash has a couch or something up there.”

  Quinn chuckled. “I’ll check with him. But we’d have to have some very strict rules involving socks on the door handle, or something.”

  Rory didn’t seem to get the reference, which Quinn was fine with. She wouldn’t really invoke a system like that on someone as innocent as Rory. More likely, she and Dash would probably just have to find some new private spots.

  He does have the ability to teleport, she reminded herself smugly.

  “You doing okay other than your resentment toward me?” Quinn asked the girl, looking her in the eyes to make sure there didn’t seem to be any residual emotional effects from their work the day before. “Any bad dreams or anything?”

  “I did see those images in my dreams last night, but nothing new.”

  “And you’re okay? The images aren’t getting to you?”

  “I already knew we were all going to die. It’s not exactly news.”

  Quinn didn’t find this particularly comforting.

  “Anyway,” Rory said, “I’m fine. I’m looking forward to this power tech class. My old power tech teacher’s with Savannah on the other side. It’ll be nice to work with someone who encourages me to use my powers. You know—besides you.”

  “It’ll be good for you,” Quinn agreed. “Come on, then, squirt. Let’s get going.”

  The first floor was already crowded by the time Quinn and Rory got there. Quinn spotted the majority of the YA over on one side of the room, packed tightly together, expressions wary. Ridley and Dash were there, too. Quinn grinned when she saw the muffin waiting for her in Dash’s hand.

  “I told you I wasn’t hungry,” she told him playfully as she snatched the muffin out of his outstretched palm.

  “Clearly,” Dash replied, watching her in amusement as she took a huge bite.

  “Get a room,” Trent grumbled, back to his old, jealous self. Quinn had a feeling this resentment had less to do with her and Dash and more to do with Haley’s close proximity to Ridley.

  “So, who’s leading this thing today?” Quinn asked the others, scanning the room with interest. The divides seemed to be mostly by age. Other than Rory, most of the kids were standing near their parents on the opposite side of the room. Roxy, Hank, Simon, and Zerrick were toward the middle of the room, along with some of the teachers and Dash-aged deviants. A cluster of monsters lined the perimeter, with the older crowd sticking near the door.

  “Who do you think?” Charlie answered, bitterness lining his voice. “My mom and dad.”

  Pence nudged him, chastising him for sounding so bitter. “Evelyn and Michael are the leaders of the resistance for a reason.”

  “Right,” Quinn said, and rubbed her thumb across the tips of her first two fingers, the visual cue for cash money.

  Charlie chuckled, but Pence looked annoyed. “It’s not just that,” she said. “They’ve been here for a long time. They’ve called Savannah’s bullshit from the beginning. And they’re the only ones who would have any idea what to do next if we actually pulled this off.”

  Quinn didn’t have any strong feelings on the matter, so she decided to remain silent. Luckily, Evelyn and Michael stepped in at that point, and the silence spread.

  “Welcome,” Evelyn said to all of them. “I’m pleased to see we still have a full house. Now, I know that you all have taken different power tech courses, with very different kinds of trainers. Some have been one-on-one combat training. Some have been no combat training whatsoever. Today, we are going to do something different—something that has to do with our specific goal of creating shields.”

  Murmurs erupted, but they were silenced by Michael.

  “Everyone in the room who has a physical ability that can both project out of them and do harm to others, come forward.”

  Quinn, Dash, Haley, Rory, and Pence all stepped forward. Glancing around, Quinn realized she didn’t know many others with projectile abilities on the island. Of the twenty or thirty other people who had stepped forward, the only one she recognized by name was Roxy.

  “Each of you,” Michael continued, “one at a time, will be opposing the rest of us, head-on. You versus us. Whatever you choose to project at us, we must stop with a shield. A group shield.”

  Quinn was impressed not only by the exercise, but also by Charlie’s parents for coming up with it.

  “Pence,” Evelyn said. “You first.”

  Pence nodded, coming to stand next to Evelyn, facing Quinn and the others. Quinn took a few steps back, glancing behind her as she watched the room transform. The half of the room surrounding Pence disappeared behind the line of Quinn, Dash, Haley, and Rory, who remained at the front, facing Pence.

  “Everyone on this half of the room,” Michael said to their side. “Your goal is not to hurt Pence, but rather, to keep whatever she is attacking us with from ever hitting us. To create a shield.”

  Every set of eyes but Quinn’s was rooted to Michael as he spoke. Quinn watched everyone else, an unfamiliar feeling washing over her. People all around the world had known who she was for years, but this was the first time in her life that she truly felt like she was experiencing history in the making. These people who had been exiled from the real world, restricted and confined in their freedoms and their territory, who had bowed their heads and accepted their fates for so lo
ng, were finally embracing their power. They were coming together; they were becoming something bigger. She could see in their eyes that they realized it, too.

  “If you do not think your ability can help defend the group,” Michael continued, “I encourage you to take the hand of someone who does. Band together. Transfer your energy and strength into that person… Even if only psychologically, we truly believe that this will make a difference.”

  It wasn’t unlike plan B’s strategy for sparking premonitions, Quinn realized. Their strategy had certainly had its flaws—Quinn passing out; Rory’s premonitions remaining vague—but without it, they’d still be at square one.

  “Pence,” Evelyn said, stepping away from her and over to the populated half of the room. “Are you ready?”

  Pence nodded.

  “Are we ready?” Michael asked the rest of them.

  They nodded.

  “And,” Michael said, “begin.”

  Almost instantaneously, a wall appeared in the middle of the room. It was a strange, beautiful sight to behold, made of everything from fire and lightning to ice and stone. It wasn’t just made of tangible elements, though; it was made of forces. Wind, gravity, light, heat. All of it coming together at that exact point. The wall.

  Quinn could see Pence, on the other side of the wall, squinting in determined focus as she attempted to launch a sharp jet stream of water out at them. Quinn knew from having seen Pence in action before that the stream was strong enough to impale someone if they weren’t careful. But it had no effect on the wall. It disappeared on impact.

  Finally, Pence gave up, and the wall disappeared. They all turned to look at each other, hope in their eyes.

  “Good,” Evelyn said. “Next.”

  • • •

  They continued the exercise with everyone who had projectile abilities. A few of them—Quinn and Dash included—were able to break through the wall enough that the people on the other side felt minor effects. But none of them were successfully able to harm anyone on the other side. No one’s powers remained fully intact.

  “It might even be easier when it’s the nuclear bomb,” Rory pointed out to Quinn as the majority of the participants filed out of the training room. “It’ll be a concrete object, not an element or force shooting out at us, so abilities like Zerrick’s will come in handy more.”

  “Sure,” Zerrick said, voice a mixture of amused and terrified, “but let’s not all bank on my ability to steer a nuclear warhead against its trajectory.”

  Rory didn’t look discouraged. “I’m just saying. I’ve got a good feeling.”

  Zerrick took his leave, but Evelyn and Michael requested that Haley and Quinn stay behind to practice Haley’s special mission—which, of course, meant Dash, Ridley, and Rory stayed, as well.

  This aspect of the training was harder for Quinn, who, beyond compelling Haley to ‘give it her all,’ felt she had nothing to offer.

  The first time they tried it, they could all sense Haley’s frustration; she was close, but it wasn’t enough. So they tried what they had tried in the group training session—the same thing plan B was trying to perfect: energizing. Quinn took one of Haley’s hands, and Ridley took the other; Rory and Dash completed the circle.

  The effect was instantaneous. The Haley they all knew disappeared, replaced by a version of her that resembled a goddess more than a deviant. She floated into the air, dropping Quinn and Ridley’s hands; her head tilted back; her eyes closed. Her entire body began to radiate a strange, luminescent shade of gold.

  For a split second, all of the oxygen in the room seemed to disappear. The sunlight leaking through the room intensified until it was so bright that Quinn had to close her eyes in pain. The sound of the air conditioner crescendoed into a deafening, maddening buzz that drove them all to cover their ears.

  It was like entering another dimension.

  And, just like that, they were back to reality. Haley came crashing to the ground.

  “Haley!” Ridley shouted, scrambling over to her. “Are you okay?”

  Quinn and Dash moved behind Ridley. Quinn scanned her fallen friend’s eyes as they opened. Haley’s expression was unlike anything Quinn had ever seen. Serene; enlightened.

  “Damn,” Quinn said, weakly attempting to lighten the mood. “You look like you just discovered the meaning of life.”

  “Yeah,” Rory said with a grin, “or some really good drugs.”

  Dash half-laughed, half-groaned, tousling Rory’s hair. “You’ve been spending way too much time with Quinn.”

  “I haven’t discovered the meaning of everything,” Haley admitted, rising to her feet and giving Ridley’s hand a squeeze. “But I know how to save us.”

  • • •

  As comforted as they all were by Haley’s progress, there was one thing her confident words hadn’t accounted for. No matter how prepared Haley was—no matter how prepared they all were—they couldn’t save themselves without knowing when the attack would take place.

  Which, of course, left the ball back in Quinn’s court.

  “You need to stop putting so much pressure on yourself,” Rory told her as they all sat in Dash’s room later that day, trying to power up Rory as effectively as they had powered up Haley. “You know why it worked so well for Haley and not for us? Because you knew there was only so much you could do for her. You let her take the reins. You just helped.”

  Quinn wrinkled her nose. She hated how smart Rory was becoming, as helpful as it was. “What’s your point?” she grumbled, even though she already knew.

  “Her point is,” Dash said, “let her do it. It’s like you’re trying to have the vision for her. Rory is the one who saw the nuclear vision, not you.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re the one who keeps insisting I’m a seer, too,” she muttered.

  She knew he was right. They both were. It was just so hard for her to let go when it came to Rory. She didn’t want the girl to have to see such awful things, to strain herself so much. She wanted to take some of the burden away.

  She promised them she would try to back off, but it was no use. Just as before, they tried several times to force a premonition out of Rory, and before long, Quinn was back in Dash’s bed, passed out again.

  When she woke up, he had news for her.

  “Plan A worked. The attack happens Friday.”

  • • •

  Quinn let his words sink in. Judgment day, as Reese had called it. The day they would either face a mass extinction of their population (minus the alliance) or live to fight another day. Another day, and then start all over again…

  She looked up at him, suddenly feeling very sad. She wasn’t ready to die. She wasn’t ready for him to die. Not so soon.

  “Do you believe them?” she asked.

  He considered this. His eyes were sad, too. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t about Tommy, Izzo, and Roxy.

  “When I was a kid, probably five or six, we lived in this tiny little apartment in Brooklyn. Land was already expensive there, though not like it is today. We had this landlord… Her name was Elena, I think. Sweet, old Hispanic widow. Had married an American man who died and left her with the building. Barely spoke English. Never cared if we paid rent late. Never harassed us about the noise we made or anything like that. So, my mom starts making more money, the years go by, and we move away. And then one day, I’m probably ten or eleven, she goes back to see Elena, and she makes her this offer. Says she wants to get into real estate. Offers to buy the whole building off her.”

  Quinn watched him, confused and intrigued by the story.

  “So Elena says no, and Elena says no, and Savannah assures her that they’ll be partners, that she can be as involved as she wants, that she’ll get more than her fair share in the process. That she can finally retire one day.”

  This story was starting to sound too familiar… like the story of Kurt’s father and Cole Crowley.

  “So finally Elena agrees, and they sit down and start to go over paperwo
rk. And Elena stares at the paperwork in disbelief, because the way it is worded, Elena is supposed to give Savannah the building for free.

  “That’s when Savannah explains that she knows about Elena’s little sister—the illegal immigrant with two children. Next thing I know, we’re the proud new owners of an apartment building. And we’re no poorer. All Savannah had to do was threaten to have Elena’s family deported. The poor woman signed in seconds.”

  Quinn shuddered. Crowley and Savannah really were two peas in a pod, she marveled.

  “And it’s not just that,” he continued. “Savannah didn’t even keep the apartments. The only reason she wanted them was because she’d caught wind that the neighborhood was gentrifying. She bulldozed the building immediately and now it’s a Whole Foods.”

  “And Elena’s family?”

  “Still got deported.”

  Just like Kurt. Still killed.

  “Elena left, too. I think Savannah ruined America for her. Look, I guess what I’m trying to say is… Savannah can convince you of anything with the right tactics, or the right threats, on her side. I believe Tommy, Izzo, and Roxy are all good people. But I also believe that she could poison them into thinking we’re the bad people—that or, more simply, that none of us stand a chance against this nuke. She could poison them into thinking whatever she wanted.”

  “That’s why you were so careful, isn’t it? In who you let into the resistance. You knew how far she would go to get people on her side.”

  He nodded. “It is. But we would’ve had to come to this, anyway, wouldn’t we? The attack’s in three days. Everyone would have to make their choices now, if they hadn’t already.”

  It helped, but not much.

  • • •

  Quinn decided to go see Tommy and Izzo when she left Dash’s. She wasn’t sure there was anything she could do, but she figured she could at least try. She knew she’d have better luck with them than with Roxy, the woman she’d probably scared half to death during her escape to confront Reese.