“The DiaZem,” answered the group. As Valerie lowered the glass to drink, a hand covered the liquid and pushed the glass away from Valerie’s open mouth.
“You never drink to yourself,” the woman said. After slamming back her own shot, she relieved Valerie of hers and treated the second tequila the same, without a wince.
The sight of the woman made Valerie freeze. She was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. With a slender but muscular silhouette, she sported many different tattoos, including a tribal eagle with wings covering her chest. She had dark hair. Bangs swept to the side, still covering her forehead. The rest of her hair was sectioned off and wrapped in tight strings extending to her waist resembling dreadlocks. She carried a once-lit cigar like Max’s tucked behind her ear.
“Cheers,” she said without inflection of any kind. She handed the empty glass back to Valerie and walked away.
Valerie was left with her mouth still open. She wanted to know what she meant. How did everyone seem to know who she was before she walked in the door? And why were they toasting her?
“Don’t mind Hyka. She comes off a bit hostile. She likes you, or else she wouldn’t have said anything at all. As for taking your drink, I’m kind of mad she beat me to your shot.” Jack patted Valerie on the back and walked off to greet a couple of gentlemen across the room.
She wanted to follow him. Instead, she stood alone in the middle of the gathering while the rest of the company seemed to already know each other. She felt out of place and out of control of the situation; even the walls of Max’s home overpowered her.
“Come here, young lady,” Max shouted across the room.
Inhale, exhale. Valerie did not want to interact with him. His constant intensity was draining. He looked at her as if he was collecting information she was not willing to give. Acknowledging her apprehension, he and the tired man crossed the room to her.
“This here is Edward, often goes by Griff. He’ll show you to your room. I can’t imagine how exhausted you must be.”
Griff extended his hand, and Valerie reciprocated. She had many questions.
Max looked at his watch and then addressed the group, “The time is 1500 now, dinner is at 1730, and we have a briefing at 1900. You, young lady, would find it advantageous to be at the briefing. We are going to map the process of extracting your son.”
Extraction. The use of the word implied that they did not mean to just take her home. He did not say reunion. Instead of protesting, she decided to remain silent and observant. So far, no one had forced her to do anything, but they had not needed to. She had followed all their instructions because Jack had. She trusted Jack, no one else. Her attention was now on Griff and getting answers.
Valerie followed him up the stairs. Her legs ached with each step, and she could feel the dried sweat turned to salt on her skin.
“Have you spoken to her?” Valerie asked him. He knew who she was talking about.
“Yes. All she could say was she and Caleb are safe,” he answered, continuing up the stairs to the second floor, then down a hallway. A sob escaped Valerie’s body. The news made her want to run the hundred miles home. She sucked in air to slow her breathing enough to speak.
“Can you call her again? Are they still at my house?” Valerie caught her breath again to avoid losing her nerve in front of him.
“I don’t know where they went. The CDC is monitoring her phone calls. All she said was she was taking him to a safe place, and she would leave a clue. One only you would understand. She had to be sure they couldn’t find him.” Griff stopped at the fourth door on the left. “She loves you and Caleb. Gia will fight with her last breath to protect him. She hated keeping the secret from you, but the less you knew, the better chance they wouldn’t be able to find you. We never anticipated what to do if you were here instead of there, but she did what she thought was your best chance.”
Griff looked at the corner of the ceiling behind him at a security camera and back to her. She nodded. Her suspicions were validated. Something was not right about her situation. She closed the door behind her. Solitude allowed the knot in her stomach to loosen.
The room was a generic guest room with a private bathroom. She took a seat on a beige accent chair in the corner of the room facing the bed. After removing her socks and shoes, she rubbed the soreness out of her feet. She was lucky to not have any blisters, though she could feel the beginnings of a few. A glass door to a spacious shower caught her eye in the bathroom. She pulled off the clothes she had borrowed from her sister-in-law and climbed in.
For a long while, she let the hot water run over her. She cried, thankful her son was safe, but still terrified she would never reach him. They were after him. She was not even sure who they were.
Without so much as a knock, Hyka swung the door open. In her exhaustion, Valerie had forgotten to lock either door. Startled and exposed behind a large glass shower door, she attempted to cover herself.
“Here are some clean clothes. You might have to cuff the pants, no big deal. They aren’t church clothes, but at least you won’t be naked.” Hyka had a deep flat tone to her voice and spoke with little inflection. She sounded unimpressed, bored even. She gathered the dirty clothes on the floor. “I’ll burn these for you.”
Relieved to hear the click of the lock when Hyka left, Valerie finished her shower and evaluated the clothing after wrapping in a towel. No bra. No underwear. She doubted Hyka wore either garment. Then her mouth went dry. The picture of Caleb was still in the pants Hyka had taken. She was not sure if Hyka indeed intended to burn her clothes, but the concern was valid. She rushed to pull on the gray tank top and black cargo pants, not bothering to cuff them. She flung open the door and ran hard into Jack. He was more muscular than she guessed, and the impact hurt. He grabbed her arms to balance them both; then he held up the photo.
“Looking for this?”
Valerie burst into tears and snatched the photo out of his hand. The mere thought of losing his picture made her come undone. She had held herself together through the car accident, plane crashes, and even the CDC taking her dad; but the idea of losing the one thing she had left of Caleb was too much. Jack pulled her into him and held her while she shook with sobs.
“I’m sorry. I’m not normally like this. I can’t be weak now, I know.” She tried to get herself under control, looking at the photo of her little boy’s smiling face.
“You know, I have seen grown men go through less than you and break down like babies. You have plenty of reasons to be upset right now.” He walked her back into the room and sat her on the bed.
She ran her hands over the sage colored comforter trying to stifle her tears. Jack leaned against the dresser, picked up a round, glass candle holder, tossed the object in the air, and caught the orb before setting it back down.
“You don’t have to be sorry. Crying isn’t a weakness. Your little guy is waiting for you. Now is a good time to get all your feelings out. After tomorrow, you won’t have that luxury on the road. And to be honest, nobody is going to want to hear you cry for five days.”
“Nobody? Like, people are coming with us? I want to call Scott. Get Griff up here and have him call my husband. You promised me at least a phone call.” Valerie’s anxiety turned to anger. She knew somehow if Scott could answer the phone, everything would be fine. She needed to know her husband was safe.
“I did promise, but there is far more to this than what you and I thought. The reason why we chose to meet here is this is a secure building. Max doesn’t have the gene, but he does have ties to what’s going on in Denver. They are taking the conductors to the airport. Of those here, Major, Hyka, and Duke all have the gene. Griff does not, and neither does Gia. Anyway, looks like the ’Squatch team is going with you to recover Caleb.” He pushed off from the dresser and crossed the room to sit in the beige chair.
“Why are you helping me, if everyone else is in the same boat? Shouldn’t you all be lying low, keeping your distance from the CDC? I do
n’t need help. I don’t want help. I am going home, and that’s the end of it.”
“Look.” Jack stood up with authority as he had to the young soldier on the road. Anger clear on his face. “This isn’t a game of kickball. You don’t get to pick who is on your team. If it weren’t for Mike pushing you out the window, you’d already be caught. You may not like me, and I am okay with that. But whatever you think is the end of all of this, is not the end.”
“What are you talking about?” she pleaded, close again to tears.
Jack lowered his shoulders and sat back down. A hint of regret on his face.
“Important people already know too much about you. A DiaZem can transfer the energy from a conductor into other objects. People like me absorb energy and over time the power builds up. Conductors have no way of expelling it, so over a short amount of time, people like me will begin to age faster than usual. You release the stored energy back into the technology around us, or the ground. Which was why Max called you a grounding rod. You released my stored energy, and now I look like the epitome of all that is man.” He sat up straight and puffed his chest in an exaggerated pose. When she gave no hint of a smile, he deflated himself and continued. “The power surge at your dad’s and the lightning bolt which blasted out the window was you, releasing all the energy from us.”
“So, what is stopping me from being a constant lightning bolt? And why do I absorb energy too, instead of the current just passing? If I can power a house, why can’t I power a car? Or a phone? This is ridiculous. I didn’t ask for this. I just want my son. I want Scott. I want to be home. I want to go back to whatever life I have left. If there are people here who can drive, why don’t they get Caleb? Bring him here to me? The trip would take a day.”
“That was the original plan, to collect you, the kids and Gia and bring you to your dad’s. This is before we knew you were already here. Griff already tried to get them. He left this morning after gathering everyone, but north of Monument a plane crashed on the highway. The pilot attempted to land, but with the traffic coming to a standstill, the landing turned into a mile-long wreckage. There is no way through in a vehicle.”
She sat for a minute processing everything he had told her. After a few moments, she looked up at him.
“Jack. Thank you for today, but I need to be alone now. I’ll be down for dinner. I’ll play along. I will let them help me, but I do not want any part of this beyond finding Caleb.”
“Alright, kid.” He slapped his hands on his knees, stood up, and stretched. “My room is down the hall, the last one on the left before you go down the stairs. Let me know if you need anything, even to talk. Sorry I got a little heated. I’m proud of you.” He shut the door behind him.
She laid on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Allowing her muscles to relax, she realized how much of a toll the journey had already taken on her. She did not feel different. She did not feel like she had any power at all. There was no feeling of static in the air or a sense of storing energy from the things she encountered. She studied her hands then held them a foot apart, palms facing each other. She strained, thinking maybe electricity would shoot from one to the other like in the movies. The ceiling fan turned, and the bulbs above her flickered to a warm glow. She put her hands down and looked at the light switch in the off position. Valerie got up and flipped the small switch up and down, but the lights stayed on. She walked back to the bed and laid back down where she was before, holding her hands the same. The ceiling fan went faster. Like a fluid movement, she could feel the energy move through her to the circuits within the room. She pointed her hands out, and everything in the room sprang to life. All the lights were on, the clock radio blasted, and the TV in the room lit up with the CDC logo.
“This is unnerving, Frank,” the newscaster said. “For those tuning in at home, the CDC has issued another press release outlining the dangers of those affected by the Event yesterday. Please, if you or someone you know is experiencing any of these symptoms, they need to seek medical attention or contact the CDC at the 1-800 number on your screen. Symptoms include the inability to use electronics, the ability to control electronics without touching them, or remarkable regression of age. Extreme cases can display bolts of electricity coming from an individual, or the appearance of a power overload in a home, meaning all the lights are shining brighter than they should. These people are to seek treatment immediately as they are a danger to those around them. Also, do not approach these people on your own. Call the CDC with any information you may have regarding these individuals and allow the officials to do their job.
“You know, Frank, I saw a house like they described last night in my neighborhood. The scene was terrifying. The CDC showed up in a matter of seconds and got things under control fast. I thought the entire house might explode.”
Valerie pulled the energy back from the TV, and the screen went black. The CDC was using propaganda to herd the remaining conductors together. Her new acquaintances did not have a choice but to help her. The government was hunting all of them.
Valerie wanted answers. She cuffed the pants Hyka had provided, put her shoes on, and looked in the mirror to adjust her tank top, careful to maintain her modesty despite the lack of undergarments. She walked down the hall to Jack’s room. The door was open, but the space was empty except for his ruck next to the bed. His room was smaller than hers and did not have a bathroom. A picture hung on the wall. Men in combat uniforms sat on a concrete barrier. She recognized many of the faces from those gathered at the toast Max had given earlier. Her father had no expression on his face, which made her smile. He never smiled for photos for as long as she could remember. Not even family ones.
“This picture was taken at the training site in Louisiana. You might have been eleven or twelve years old. Thick as thieves, we were,” Jack said from the door. He gave a motion with his head to follow him down the stairs toward the sound of voices and the smell of food.
In the kitchen, a buffet-style dinner was laid out on an island table. Seven people walked around filling their plates. They joked with each other like a big, loud family. These were her father’s friends with bonds stronger than blood. She looked at their faces and tried to imagine her father fighting alongside them. They must have felt a duty to help her. This offered a little more comfort and solidarity toward them, but she was still a bit apprehensive. She fell in line with Jack to fill a plate of food.
“Jack McGuire, if I didn’t know you to be a dirty old man, I might give you the time of day. Nice hair, pony boy,” Hyka said from across the island, a slight smirk being the only indication of her joke.
The room erupted in laughter. Only Valerie and the man standing to the right of Hyka did not join in. Instead, the man shot a disapproving look at Jack. He must have been Hyka’s father. Valerie blushed and gathered her plate and utensils. Barbecue ribs, mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, dinner rolls. When her plate was full, she found an open seat near a pitcher of water. Her body craved the nutrition, depleted by her travels, but the knot in her stomach had returned.
“Are you doing okay?” Jack asked, leaning close so she did not have to raise her voice.
“No. Did you watch the news? They are turning the collection process into a manhunt.”
“Yeah, we watched that piece. Eat. Enjoy a distraction. We leave tomorrow night. You need to rest and get your strength up, and we still need more time to figure things out.”
“I powered my entire room with my hands,” Valerie said, too loud; she meant the comment for only Jack. She immediately regretted not keeping the incident a secret. Max looked up at her, then back at his food. She looked down at hers, a good excuse to stop talking. He had heard every word.
She filled an empty glass with water and listened to the conversations around her. The table was loud, with moods light and joyful. The men shouted remember-when stories over the course of the meal. Some included her father: the legendary Mike Burton and how he commanded his troops with an iron fist and a
cold heart. They told stories of the man she remembered. Duke described a story of when he had occupied a mansion in Ramadi, Iraq, during the first elections after coalition forces liberated the country from Saddam’s reign. Her father had led one hundred and fifty infantry soldiers. First Sergeant Burton made his men collect the rubble from the demolished side of the building and organize the debris into what he called a rock garden. Even though they thought the task was ridiculous, the troops followed the order. Two weeks later, a rocket was shot into the compound, ricocheted off her father’s rock garden and exploded a safe distance away, leaving the building and occupants unharmed. They never questioned the rock garden again.
Valerie could laugh at the story. She missed him. Judging from their interactions, everyone else did, too. Hearing about her father lifted her spirits. She became less skeptical of the group as a whole, and her appetite returned. She kept a careful eye on Max. He was the exception to her newfound comfort.
After they had eaten their fill and cleared the table of food, Max passed beers to those in attendance. Valerie declined the alcohol in favor of water. The transition from dinner to the meeting was marked and formal.
“Let’s get down to business. I am Maximus Jonah Davis, airborne, air assault, the best damn cook this side of the Rockies, and your host.” As Max took his seat, the man to his right stood.
“Edward Griffin. I go by Griff. An agent with Homeland Security.”
“Jack McGuire, master gunner.”
It was Valerie’s turn. She was unsure of her title but followed suit the best she could.
“Valerie Russell, Sergeant Major Burton’s daughter.”
“And DiaZem,” Max added as she sat down. His eyes followed her. No one else seemed to notice, but his gaze was invasive. She wanted to cover herself every time he looked in her direction.
Apparent Power: DiaZem Trilogy Book One Page 7