by H. L. Burke
He moved to the couch to watch the other two start another round.
The last few weeks had been filled with constant adjustments. Jake had started his online schooling—mostly a lot of catch up drills trying to get him back to grade level. The group had done two more training exercises, both undeniably more successful than the first, and Prism had introduced a chore chart that had all three of the kids pitching in around the camp.
Jake honestly preferred the chores to school. Less frustrating and with a clear end goal in sight. Ironically, he’d ended up assigned to the chickens, but after a week or so he found they no longer disgusted him the way they had at first. If anything he had grown kind of fond of them—enough so that he’d gotten irritated with Wherezit for the ferret’s constant attempts to get at them.
As the other two got into their game, Jake let his mind wander. Without the distraction of the game, he could easily hear voices from the dining room, Prism and Fade chatting while Ruby babbled in the background.
“I’ve always thought the name Oliver was really sweet,” Prism was saying.
“Sweet. That’s exactly the connotation a dude wants around his name.” Sarcasm dripped from Fade’s words.
“It’s a good, solid boy’s name!” she protested.
“Isn’t it also a Disney movie about a tiny fluffy cat or something?”
“No one remembers that movie—okay, crossing Oliver off my list then.”
Jake’s stomach rumbled. He sat up from his slouch. “Anyone want snacks?”
“Sure,” Laleh said between button mashing. “Anything meatless.”
“Me too, but I don’t care if it’s meat,” Marco said.
“Sounds good. Snacks for Marco and a plate of celery for Princess Laleh.”
Laleh stuck her tongue out at him before turning her attention back to the game.
Jake wandered towards the kitchen, past the dining room table where Prism and Fade sat, Prism with a notepad and pen, Fade scrolling on his phone. Between them, in her highchair at the head of the table, Ruby played with finger paints on her tray. Her face, now streaked with blue and pink, lit up when Jake entered. She clapped her hands together, splattering paint everywhere.
He chuckled. Cute little thing.
“Ake!” she shouted out.
Prism and Fade paused. Jake’s cheeks heated.
“That’s a new one,” Prism said. She flipped to another page in her notepad and wrote something down. “That makes fifteen words. I think she’s on track for twenty by her eighteen month checkup.” She ran her hand over her daughter’s curls. “Genius baby—oooh, genius! That’s an idea. What if we name him after someone famous for being smart? Albert’s kind of old fashioned, but what about Nicola, like Tesla.”
Jake made a face behind Prism’s back.
“Girl’s name.” Fade shook his head.
“It is not!”
“Try to explain that to your average middle school bully. I mean, I guess it’s a good thing if our kid learns to fight early—”
“Okay, never mind. What about Lincoln?”
“Rhymes with Stinkin’.”
“We’re not going to find a name that doesn’t rhyme with something!” Prism threw down her pen in frustration. “Like Fade rhymes with ... uh ... raid ...”
“Laid,” Jake put in as he opened the refrigerator. “You know, like, ‘Fade, Fade, can’t get—’”
“He’s good at this,” Fade interrupted. “We should let him name the baby.”
“You’re not getting out of this discussion that easily.” She let out a breath. “Maybe we could do a family name like we talked about. My dad would be the obvious but ... I really am not crazy about the name Kevin.”
“Not my favorite either, though, yeah, your dad would be the one I’d want to honor that way if I had to pick anyone.” Fade glanced over at Jake. “While you’re over there, grab me a beer.”
“You gonna share?” Jake teased.
“Sure—in about five years.” Fade laughed at his own joke.
Jake rolled his eyes before bringing Fade a bottle.
“If you’re looking for something to eat, there’s a whole bunch of bananas on the counter,” Prism suggested.
Jake pulled a face. “Fruit isn’t snacks. It’s vitamins pretending to be snacks.”
“There’s also a family sized bag of chips in the pantry.” Fade opened his beer which gave a hiss of carbonation.
“Score.” Jake all but dove for the pantry. As he was emerging with his prize, Prism’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the display, and a smile blossomed on her face. “Jake, could you call the other two in here? Something just came together that I want to share with them.”
Jake paused. “What?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re all here.” She nodded towards the other room. “Just go get them.”
Jake’s chest tightened. He didn’t like surprises. He couldn’t remember a single one that had ever been good. Still, Prism’s face looked pleasant, and she wasn’t the type to get pleasure out of something cruel. It had to be good ... didn’t it?
It only took a moment to summon Laleh and Marco. The group filed in and waited in front of Prism and Fade. Jake crossed his arms and did his best to keep his face expressionless. It was probably one of her training exercises—or maybe a trip into Bend. He had been hoping they’d do that again, since he’d missed the first one. Of course, it might also be bad news. No need to get his hopes up.
“I’ve been emailing back and forth with people at DOSA trying to set something up for the last week or so, and the last detail just came together.” Prism stood. “You are all getting video calls from your family.”
Jake cringed. Family? What family? This couldn’t even apply to him. It wasn’t like DOSA was going to play nice with Uncle Vic long enough for him to make a video call. Heck, Jake didn’t even know what he’d say if they did talk. Sorry I screwed up? Hope you don’t hate me?
Marco grinned. “My mom?”
“Yes. She was the last detail I was talking about. Apparently she doesn’t have a reliable internet connection, so she agreed to come into the San Diego DOSA branch for the call.” Prism beamed at Marco. “She said she’s looking forward to seeing you again.”
“And my family?” Laleh shifted from foot to foot.
“Your parents were the easiest to arrange this with, actually. I’ve known that they wanted to do a call with you for a little while now, but I didn’t want to say anything until I’d figured out the boys.”
Jake started. Boys plural? “Who am I calling, exactly?”
“Your brother,” Fade answered. “He’s being held in a DOSA facility in Arizona, but we pulled some strings, and they’re going to let him get on for a fifteen minute call.”
“Sorry, I wish it could be longer.” Prism’s smile dimmed slightly.
“It’s fine.” Jake avoided eye contact. His brother would probably be furious with him that he hadn’t escaped yet.
I haven’t tried to escape. Not since that one attempt, and I didn’t even get out of the yard. He’s going to be pissed.
“When are the calls?” Laleh asked, her voice shaking ever so slightly.
Jake glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Was she nervous? Why? What did Laleh of all people have to worry about?
“Yours will be tonight after dinner. The boys are both tomorrow morning,” Prism said. “We’ll set up the room upstairs for you when it’s time, and you can have the space all to yourself for the length of your call.”
“Awesome!” Marco punched the air. “I need to go make a list of everything I’m going to tell Mom about. I don’t want to forget anything.”
“If you do, you can always send her a letter.” Fade called after him. Fade then stood from his chair and walked into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee and turn on the burner under the teapot. As he did, he caught Prism’s eyes then flicked his gaze towards Jake.
She gave a knowing nod. “Laleh, have you cleaned
the ferret cage today?”
Laleh’s mouth crinkled. “I was going to do that after video game time.”
“Video game time is pretty much over,” Prism said. “Why don’t you go take care of that right now?”
Laleh sighed and shuffled out of the room. Jake moved to follow, but before he could, Prism addressed him. “Jake, can we have a moment to talk?”
Here it came. Whatever it was that he’d been worried about, the rug waiting to be pulled out from under him, here it was.
He turned back to the table.
“Why don’t you sit down?” Prism motioned to the chair across from her as the kettle whistled.
“I don’t want to,” he said.
She sighed. “There are two things you need to know before you go into your call with your brother. Things the other two don’t have to worry about because their circumstances are—different from yours.”
Fade came over and put a steaming mug with a tea bag inside it in front of his wife before sitting at her side.
“The first thing is, DOSA is worried that your uncle’s gang will track you down. They have done their best to cover your trail, so to speak. All records of your stay with us are classified. They’re also keeping your brother under constant observation because they don’t want him interacting with anyone from your gang, but that is harder to control.” She rotated the mug in her hands. “Basically, you can’t say anything in your call that would hint as to the location where you’re staying. No place names. Not even the time of day so your brother can’t pinpoint a timezone.”
“Caleb already knows I’m with the camp,” Jake pointed out.
Prism’s gaze dropped to the table. “No, he doesn’t.”
Jake searched her face. “What? Of course he does. He was there when Fade—”
“I only found this out when I inquired about you two being on a call, but DOSA has memory erasing technology. They used it selectively on your brother after he was taken in, just to hide your location from him.”
Cold rushed through Jake’s veins. “What?”
“Don’t worry!” Prism held up her hand. “The only thing they took from him was the meeting with Fade.”
Jake staggered back a step. “Don’t worry? They zapped my brother’s brain like some sort of Men in Black and you don’t want me to worry?”
“The procedure’s harmless,” Fade said. “It’s a long story, but I know from experience that there’s no long term side effects.”
Jake’s stomach churned. If DOSA could do that to Caleb, what else were they capable of? Could they make his brother forget him altogether?
“As much as I don’t approve of their methods, your location being a secret is a matter of your safety—and probably the safety of everyone at this camp,” Prism said. “We’re not equipped to handle an attack from supervillains. The only reason why we can keep you here, essentially free instead of behind bars, is because they don’t know where you are or how to find you.”
Jake’s knees wobbled. He pulled out a chair and sank into it. “That’s ... that’s so wrong.”
The Sand Foxes are supposed to be the villains, but they’d never do anything like this. How are DOSA the good guys here?
“If you do try to give away something regarding your location, DOSA will immediately end the call and there might be other consequences we can’t predict,” Prism continued. “And that leads into the other thing you need to know, the thing DOSA definitely doesn’t want me to tell you so you can’t let on that you know.”
Jake sat up straighter.
Prism drew a deep breath. “DOSA will be listening in on your call. Marco and Laleh’s won’t be tapped. Especially not Laleh’s, due to her parents’ influence, but even though they haven’t confirmed it, I would bet anything that DOSA is going to have ears on your conversation with your brother.”
Jake’s throat closed in on itself. “Can they do that?”
“Your brother being in prison gives them legal right to, from what I understand of the law,” Prism said.
“Even if they didn’t have the legal right, they’d still do it,” Fade interrupted. “It’s who they are and how they operate.”
Of course.
“I’m not going to give them anything they can use against my family,” he growled.
“I know that,” Prism soothed. “DOSA has been sending me not so subtle emails suggesting that I should pressure you into testifying, but part of my conditions for running this camp was that no one’s residence here would be contingent on them giving testimony. This is a rehabilitation program, not witness protection.”
“That said, we know DOSA. We know how they work, both the good and the bad, and you deserve to know what will happen.” Fade leaned forward in his seat. “Anything you say in your call with your brother will be admissible in court.”
“Do you think Caleb knows?” Jake whispered.
“Probably. He’s also under pressure to testify. According to my contact, he’s turned down several deals that would’ve let him walk free if he did so.” A pained look crossed Prism’s face. “I wish he would accept. He’s too young to throw his life away like this.”
Jake examined the woodgrain of the table. Yeah, he’d known DOSA wanted him to rat out the rest of the Sand Foxes—both he and Caleb knew enough to disrupt Uncle Vic’s gang if not bring it down altogether—but at the camp all that seemed so distant. Caleb had to be dealing with it constantly, and apparently DOSA had wanted to use Jake to trick him into letting his guard down. It might’ve worked, too. As naive as he felt admitting it, Jake hadn’t even considered that DOSA might spy on him.
He hazarded a glance up at Prism. “Why are you telling me this? Won’t ... won’t DOSA, I don’t know, fire you or something if they find out?”
“I won’t tell them if you don’t,” Fade said.
“I’m not a rat,” Jake mumbled.
“Also, we’re telling you because your trust is more important to us than DOSA’s case against the Sand Foxes. I wouldn’t be on the hero side of things if I didn’t want the gang put out of business, but I have faith that we can do that the right way, without exploiting you or your brother or deceiving you about how this works.” Prism reached across the table, as if planning to touch Jake. He flinched back. She withdrew. “Jake, I don’t know if you believe me or not, but I really do want the best for you. Fade and I are going to do whatever it takes to see you through this to a successful and happy future—and I wish I had it in my power to help your brother as well.”
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Prism stood and fetched a package of wet wipes from a nearby cupboard. She wiped down Ruby’s hands and face with them as Marco entered, carrying a notebook and still grinning.
“Hey, Jake, do you think you could help me?” he asked. “I want to come up with some really good jokes for my mom.”
Jake shot Prism a glance.
She nodded. “We’re done here for now. Just keep what we said in mind, all right?”
“Yeah, okay.” Mind still churning, Jake let Marco lead him into the living room.
Man, life was so much simpler when I was back with the gang.
Chapter Eighteen
Jake stared into his cereal, watching it slowly dissolve into an unappetizing mush. Everyone else had finished eating already, and he was alone except for Laleh who the chore chart had assigned to dishwashing duty this week. She worked in silence except for the occasional clink of plates or splash of water.
He glanced at the microwave clock. He had less than fifteen minutes until his call with Caleb. Marco had already gone upstairs for his talk with his mom. Hopefully the jokes he’d thought up made his mom laugh. Jake hadn’t really helped much with composing them. He hadn’t been in the mood.
Something warm and wet splashed lightly across the back of his neck, and he flinched, his powers instinctively activating.
“Hey!” He spun to glare at Laleh who dipped her hands in the sink then flicked her fingers at him, splattering water
at his face. It passed through him and hit the table beyond. “What the heck, Laleh?”
“Are you done?” She tapped her foot. “Your bowl is the last dish. I want to get out of here.”
Grumbling, he pushed by her and scraped the remnants of his breakfast down the garbage disposal. “There. Are you happy?”
“Yes.” She nudged him aside and rinsed the bowl under running tap water. “Why are you in such a bad mood?”
“Because you’re here.” He picked a mug out of the dish drainer. Maybe some coffee would help. He poured the last of the carafe’s contents into his mug and sniffed it. Burnt. Some cream might make it palatable. Laleh dried his bowl and placed it in the cabinet. He scrutinized her. She’d been quiet at breakfast—though it was hard to get a word in edgewise with Marco there, even when the kid wasn’t wound up over finally talking to his mom. “How’d your call with your parents go last night?”
“I guess it was okay—I mean, my mom, well—” She bit her bottom lip.
Jake poured a little half and half into his coffee and watched it blossom before taking a sip.
“What? She didn’t want to buy you a pony?” He snickered at his own joke.
Laleh glowered at him. “Don’t do that. Look, I get it, my ‘rich kid’ problems are dumb compared to what you and Marco go through. That doesn’t mean they don’t exist and that I’m somehow immune to hurt and worry. Being rich doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings, okay?” Her eyes watered, and Jake blanched.
“Sorry. Seriously, though, what happened?”
“She just took less than thirty seconds to start interrogating me about my grades and when I would be getting out of here.”
Jake arched an eyebrow. “Wasn’t it her choice to send you here in the first place?”
“Yeah, it was, but I think she thought I’d hate it so much that I’d shape up and fall in line after a couple weeks. She didn’t ... well, she didn’t think I might actually like it here.” Laleh ended in a mumble.
Jake coughed. “You do?”
“Well, yeah.” She dried her hands on a towel. “It’s real hands-on training. Not the dumb, flashy stuff that looks good on college applications. Plus you and Marco are better friends than I ever had at my old school.”