High School Heroes Chapters 25-28
Here is the next exciting installment of High School Heroes!
Enjoy!
Chapter 25
Losing It
I had a dream that night (which I do most every night), but it isn’t often my dreams are so vivid I remember them clearly in the morning. Whoever said that humans dream in black and white? First, I want to know how he figured it out, and second, my dream had a great deal of color in it, especially red.
It began with my mother taking me shopping for a dress. She kept insisting Ethan was right and my protests to the contrary were thoroughly ignored. That part of the dream took forever, where I tried on dress after dress after dress, until my mother finally decided on one that was perfect. She picked it—which fit my mother’s character perfectly. It was slinky blue with thin spaghetti straps, and ended just above my knee. It also showed a bit of cleavage, which my mother seemed more excited about than me.
In the dream I spun around. Ethan was there, angry with me for something. He yelled at me. I tried to defend myself, but he ran out. All my friends were watching from our lunch table. They got up and left too. None of them would speak to me.
The scene changed, to my parents in our living room, arguing about something. Their voices were garbled, as if they spoke some alien language. They were both unhappy, but not with each other.
Suddenly, everything went black. When the lights came back up, I was in the gymnasium. All the lights were dim. Practically the whole school was there, dancing. I caught sight of my friends, but they all ignored me. Sam was dancing with Samantha. Tiffany with Lance; Savanah was bumping and grinding with Kyle. Even Peter was there, standing in a corner like the wallflower he was.
Mr. Philmore stood by the food table, guarding the drinks like a hawk, making sure no one spiked them. The worst part was that even though I was at the dance, I didn’t seem to be having any fun. As a matter of fact, I felt utter misery just being there.
It got worse when I saw Ethan, fulfilling his promise to ask someone else. He was dancing and having a grand time with one of the ditsy cheerleaders that followed Samantha around all the time.
The next thing I knew I was wandering down the empty hallways, crying my eyes out. I wandered for a long time, lost. As I rounded a corner I saw Tommy, Sean and Walter, standing like they were waiting for me. Then they disappeared, and it was my friends again, all of them looking like they wanted to kill me. They too disappeared and I heard blood curdling screams. Hundreds of screams at once, charging down the hallway and hitting me in the chest like a train.
I felt their fear and that fear became my own. I ran through the seemingly endless, empty corridors until I arrived back to the gym. I tried to open the doors, but couldn’t. The screams got louder and louder, piercing me like knives with every breath I took. I needed to get in there; my friends were there. I needed to help them.
As suddenly as the screams began, they stopped.
I stopped pulling on the door handle, afraid to look inside. Then, the door opened of its own accord, as if inviting me in. I went through and gasped at the sight before me.
Every person in the gym now lay dead on the floor. At the back, above where the DJ stood, Peter, Savanah and Ethan hung from the basketball backboard, all of them with their necks slashed open. Blood ran down their bodies and dripped in red circular pools on the floor.
“Hey Christine,” someone called from behind me.
Tommy lunged, arms extended and hands set to rip my throat out. He wrapped his large fingers around my neck and squeezed.
That was when I woke up, gasping for breath. I never remember waking up in a cold sweat before. The clock read 3:03 a.m.
I lay down and tried to get back to sleep. But I couldn’t relax. So, I lay there in the dark, thinking about the things I saw. Why had it scared me so much? It obviously wasn’t real. Tommy was dead after all, and all my friends liked me.
I shouldn’t be this scared of a silly dream.
I tried willing myself to sleep, but apparently I couldn’t use my mind control powers on myself.
I got up, checked my email, took a shower and prepared for what would be a very long and tiresome day.
My mother was shocked that she didn’t have to wake me at quarter to six. I explained that I had a nightmare and couldn’t fall back to sleep. Thankfully she didn’t ask for details. Since I was up, she cooked a full breakfast instead of just giving me a Pop-Tart and sending me on my way.
As she cracked the eggs and put them in the frying pan she asked, “So, anything new with you and Ethan?”
I’d poured myself a glass of orange juice and was shutting the refrigerator. I debated whether or not to tell her about the dance, then, decided she would find out anyway, I spoke, “He asked me to the Winter Dance in two weeks.”
If my mother’s excitement level could be measured by a thermometer, it would have burst. “Oh my God, this is wonderful. When are we going shopping to pick out an outfit?”
Great, now she really IS going to pick out my dress.
I’ve heard that pregnant women get emotional with very frequent and sometimes severe mood swings, but never thought I’d see it happen. Her excitement suddenly dropped and the next thing I knew, she was crying.
“Mom, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing… honey. I’m… fine.” she said between sobs.
I was more than confused—and a little frightened—by this sudden change. I put a consoling hand on her back. “Mom, what’s bothering you?”
She wiped at the tears before she turned from the eggs to look at me. “Your first dance. Soon, you’ll be graduating. Then going off to college, getting married, having kids of your own. Then you won’t have time to see me anymore.”
Wow! Irrationality was apparently another side-effect of pregnancy. My mother had totally lost it. She had the next fifteen years of my life planned out for me and was worrying about it all at once.
“Maybe you should go and relax, Ma. I can finish the eggs.”
“No, that’s all right.” She began sobbing again.
My mother was acting insane. I locked onto her mind and sent soothing emotions out to her. Slowly, the crying ceased, and she wiped her eyes one more time. Not quite cheerfully, but at least calm and with all her faculties again, she scooped the eggs onto a plate and added a couple of sausage links before placing them on the table. She made another plate for herself and then sat across from me.
“See, hun? I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong.” She took a couple of bites of her eggs. I did the same, but kept my mind open to make sure another mood swing wasn’t about to hit. “So, about shopping. I think we should go this weekend to get you a dress… Oh, and shoes! Yeah. You’ll need new shoes.”
And so, the monster returned—the one intent on me looking my best for my boyfriend at my first school dance ever. She talked about how it was an important event, and how I couldn’t disappoint Ethan, and how I couldn’t go in any of my drab old clothes. I didn’t want to upset her again, so I just nodded.
My father came down a few minutes later dressed in a full suit and tie, complete with cufflinks. He never dressed up like that for work. Something special must have been going on.
“I’m running late,” he said. “I’ll see you later. I might be late.”
The only thought I could glean off of him as he ran out the door was, I hope I don’t screw this up.
My mother sighed. I felt her nervousness but couldn’t understand what caused it. I reached into her head and plucked the thought out as if mere child’s play. I hope he gets this job.
“He’s going on an interview?” I spoke before I was able to stop myself.
Her eyes flew open and she stared at me with equal astonishment. “How did you know that?”
I couldn’t tell her the truth. “He’s all dressed up.”
She turned away.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“We didn’t want you to worry.”
I wanted to tell her I was a big girl and could handle such things. I wanted to say she didn’t have to protect me. What I really wanted to tell her was about my special powers and how because of them she’d never have to protect me again. Instead, I said, “Okay.”
The ride to school was somber. The sky was still pitch black. I ran from the car to the door to avoid the cold. It couldn’t have been much above zero this morning.
The halls were pretty much empty since classes didn’t start for another half hour or so. A few people milled about the lobby, but only one I would want to talk to.
“Sam!” I called a little too loudly, my voice echoed off all the walls.
He looked up. He seemed depressed. It looked like I was going to have to give soothing thoughts to someone else this morning. “Hey, Chris.”
“What’s up?” I asked, trying to stay happy.
“Not much.” He fidgeted, and kept looking around the hall at the other students gathered.
Apparently it was up to me to keep the conversation going. “What you doing this weekend?”
“Nothing.” He let out a long, deep sigh as if his soul was escaping from between his lips.
Suddenly, I got a chill worse than anything I felt outside. “What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing,” he said calmly, but frustration wafted off him.
Having no other choice, I threw myself into his head. What I came out with set me back a pace. He misses Samantha. For half a second I thought back to my dream, when I saw the two of them dancing with each other. Sam wanted to be with Samantha, and the only thing that prevented him from going to her was me.
Good. He doesn’t need to go near her anyway. I would make it up to him somehow, but under no circumstances would I let him date the devil herself.
“Look, I’ve gotta go,” he said. “I’ll see you at lunch.” Before I could say anything else, he ran off down the hall.
“What’s up his butt?” I heard a voice from behind.
Lance and Kyle stood there with big grins on their faces. “He’s crying like a baby.” One of them laughed.
“He’s depressed because of his ex.”
“Oh, well he should have stuck around and enjoyed the fun.”
I had such a bad feeling about this. “What did you guys do?”
Lance shot Kyle a conspiratorial smile. Then they looked at me and spoke in unison, “Iced the front steps.”
It would be funny to watch everyone fall as they tried to come up the stairs. As wrong as it was, I had to see it.
“It’s so cold out there it only took seconds for the water to freeze,” Kyle or Lance explained.
“We almost fell ourselves,” the other one informed.
Out front, busses were pulling up. The parking lot was filling with cars. Some students had already begun their trek toward the warmth of the building. The first pair to come up, holding hands, fell flat on both of their faces and slid to the bottom.
“Ooooh, that had to hurt,” Lance or Kyle exclaimed.
One of Samantha’s cheerleading goons was next. It’s a good thing those cheerleaders were flexible, because the way she fell… Let’s just say, I didn’t know the human body could bend that way.
“That had to leave a mark.”
Person after person tried navigating the icy steps, only to slip, trip or slide along the way. A few made it relatively unscathed, which Kyle and Lance weren’t too thrilled about. I tried explaining they couldn’t get everyone, but they only laughed at the next pair that tried to climb the stairs, very unsuccessfully.
The one person I wanted to have a really bad fall drove up. She already had a look on her face that screamed unhappiness. Samantha got out of her car and made her way toward the school entrance. I crossed my fingers and prayed for bodily injury.
As I was watching, the door next to me exploded inward with a gust of wind. Something must have hit it really hard, because normally the door swung in the opposite direction.
Lance and Kyle stumbled back, both almost landing on the floor. I stood for a moment, confused, gaping at the broken door, swinging on what was left of the frame.
I snapped myself out of the shock, I tried to figure out what happened. Spinning, I looked into the lobby. Panic came from several students. Some thought a bomb might have gone off. That was the last thing in my mind. If anyone bombed the school, they wouldn’t do it when there was practically no one in the building.
I looked further, and saw, crumpled against the wall—Ethan. “Oh God!” I ran toward him.
He had to have hit the door and then skidded the seventy or so feet until he hit the wall at the other end of the lobby. He’d left a small dent and a crack in the brick. I couldn’t get a reading of any thoughts. He was alive; his chest rose and fell at an even pace.
How could this have happened?
I crouched beside him. Lance and Kyle rushed over. “What the hell happened?” one of them asked.
“Looks like he’s just come back from Hell,” the other answered.
I recalled a comment Ethan made months ago: Ever hit an ice patch at the speed of sound? Only now did I have the image to go with the comment.
“You idiots!” I yelled. “You did this to him!”
Neither of them realized what had happened. “Hey, Chris, relax,” one of the retards said, holding his hands up in surrender.
My heart was racing. It must have been beating at a thousand miles per hour. Heat boiled from my feet all the way to my brain. If Ethan were seriously injured, I would kill them.
“Who gives you the right to play pranks on people?”
“You were laughing almost as much as we were a second ago.”
Both were taller than me, there were two of them, and they were both scared out of their minds. Good!
I growled a low, animal-like sound at them, like a lioness, going on the hunt after the king of her pride had been slain.
Lock on to both minds at once, I thought. It wasn’t that hard—Lance and Kyle were of one mind anyway. I heard all their thoughts at once.
She’s gone psycho.
Is she gonna kill me?
Talk about violent mood swings.
We didn’t do anything.
It was all in good fun.
All around us filled with shadow. The darkness oozed out of my body and engulfed the three of us.
What are you afraid of? I asked their brains.
I made the shadows engulf them. I heard them scream and saw them struggle, but I wouldn’t let up this time. They had done something terrible. They had to pay for it.
Inside the shadow, they lived out their greatest fears. They saw a world in which no one thought they were funny. They craved the attention so much that they couldn’t bear to live without it.
I used to think they were funny. They brought me joy when I was depressed. No more. I decided to play around in their brains until they thought pulling pranks and telling jokes were so wrong they’d be sick to their stomachs thinking about it.
I was abruptly pulled out of the darkness by a heavy hand falling on my shoulder. It spun me around to face its owner. Quinn’s eyes were wide and could have killed a person with a weaker will than mine. “Are you insane!”
He whirled me back around to face Lance and Kyle. Both cowered on the floor.
“Go to my room,” he whispered.
“No.” I pulled free of his grip. These two hurt Ethan. I was only punishing them. Why couldn’t he see that?
He grabbed me, a little harder this time. “Do as I say, or you will be very sorry.”
No matter how much I wanted to protest, I had to obey. I shrugged off his grip for a second time, then walked toward his classroom.
“You two, come with me,” he said to Lance and Kyle. “And pick him up.”
I threw open the door to Quinn’s room. It slammed so hard into the wall that the window on it cracked. I flipped the lights on and threw my bag on one of the seats.
Quinn had the room all set up for some kind of lab. The burners were out. Test tubes and beakers littered the tables. I needed to break something, and all this glass around would do just fine. I grabbed a beaker with my mind, lifted it and then flung it against the far wall. I then lifted another and another.
By the time Quinn entered the room, there was a pile glass on the tile floor. “Stop acting like a two year old!” he yelled.
I flung another. Quinn caught it with his mind and set it down on the counter. It felt like something hit me in the stomach, but no one was near me. The next thing I knew I was flying back into a seat.
When I looked up, Quinn stood with his hand raised toward me.
You knocked me down!
Of course I knocked you down. I needed to find some way of controlling you.
You have no right!
I have every right. You’re acting like a child!
An end came to our mental conversation as Lance and Kyle carried Ethan in and placed him in a chair in the front of the room.
“Sit down,” he ordered the twins.
Neither thought to disobey. However, they sat as far from me as possible, giving me sidelong glances and quickly turning away whenever I moved a muscle.
“Christine, I think you owe these two gentlemen an apology,” Quinn said.
“But it’s their fault!”
“I don’t care whose fault it is. Apologize. It is not a request.”
I looked at Lance and Kyle. “I’m sorry,” I said snottily.
Neither responded. They were still trying to figure me out. I did something completely unexpected and neither of them understood what it was. Looking through their heads told me that they were both on their way to discovering my powers.
“I know you boys won’t let this little incident out to anyone else,” Quinn said in a calm, deep voice. “After all, it was just a simple magic trick.”
“Yeah, just a magic trick,” Lance or Kyle said.
“A trick,” the other agreed.
“No one needs to know,” Quinn repeated, which was followed by both Lance and Kyle repeating the same sentence.
It was like he was erasing their memory. No, he was changing their memories, so when the inevitable questions arose later, that they would have a response other than, “Christine is a witch.”
Kyle and Lance looked at me and laughed. “Nice trick you played on us, Chris,” they said. “You’re gonna have to show us that one sometime.”
I nodded, but stopped when a thought hit me. The twins’ turnaround was not unlike Peter’s. Did Quinn do the same thing to him?
Quinn nodded.
I gasped. He’d messed with Peter’s mind. The reason the boy liked me so much, the reason he no longer wished to kill me, the reason he hadn’t exposed me and Ethan—was all because of Quinn. I couldn’t believe it. Why would you go through all the trouble to protect us like that?
I’ll explain in a moment.
“As far as you two go,” Quinn said to the twins, “there is still the matter of your icing the front steps. You’re lucky someone didn’t kill themselves, because I assure you, Mr. Philmore would have pressed charges on the both of you.”
The boys stopped laughing then, though I sensed they still found the whole thing amusing. If I sensed it, I was sure Quinn did too.
“Since you two are so fond of the cold, I think you should spend more time outside.” Quinn sent the two boys and evil grin. “It’s supposed to snow again tonight. I’m sure the janitors wouldn’t mind someone salting all the sidewalks and stairs around the school for them. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour or two.”
“Oh, c’mon,” Lance groaned.
“It was just a joke,” Kyle added.
Quinn held up a hand to silence them. “I suggest you report straight to the janitor before I make you wash the cars of the entire staff as well.”
They groaned, but rose and walked out of the room.
“I’m calling down there now to let them know you’re coming!” Quinn called after them. He picked up the phone and did as promised. The janitor didn’t argue. If Lance and Kyle did the work, that meant he didn’t have to.
Quinn turned to me. I looked at him defiantly. He shouldn’t have stopped me from hurting them. He shouldn’t have wiped their minds, or Peter’s either.
“Don’t say a word,” he muttered. The man was trying to collect his thoughts before speaking further. He stroked the hair on his chin for a moment, then ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you have any idea what you could have done today?”
I pointed an accusatory finger at Ethan’s still unconscious body. “Do you see what they did?”
“You boyfriend will be fine, Ms. Carpent… Christine,” he corrected. It was the first time he’d used my first name, and I couldn’t help wondering why he was being so informal all of a sudden. “Remember what I told you yesterday. He heals quickly.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen it before.”
“They could have killed him.”
“That’s beside the point.” He ran a fingertip over the top of his brow.
I wanted to take a bet that he would touch every part of his face by the end of this conversation. Unfortunately, the only two that would take that bet were scooping salt out of a bucket. Ahhh, the irony of it all.
He heard what I was thinking, but didn’t acknowledge it. “You can’t just use your powers whenever you feel like it. If someone found out, the consequences would be disastrous. You need to show restraint. If they do something like that again, just punch them, kick them, bite them. But please, don’t use your powers.” His voice grew almost pleading by the end.
“If I’m not supposed to use my powers, what are you training me for?”
“I’m not saying never use your powers. What I am saying is that you need to be more covert about it. What if someone figured out what you were doing? The news vans would be here in moments…followed by police, and then the government agencies. You’d never see the light of day again.”
Ethan began to stir. His speed did let him heal quickly. He could have broken his neck, or his back, or something else when he careened up those stairs at full speed. As far as I was concerned, Lance and Kyle deserved what they got.
“There are five of you kids at this school. When you use your powers so flagrantly, you put them at risk as well. I don’t want to see anything happen to any of you.”
I stopped listening after he said there were five of us. I knew of four. Who could the fifth one be?
“He isn’t even fully aware of his powers yet. They have only manifested in the child once and he is putting it off as a hallucination. I’m waiting to see if it happens again before I do anything about it. Until that time, his secret is safe.” Quinn grunted then, as if clearing his throat.
Then he glanced over at Ethan, who was rousing from his mini-coma. “Are you quite calm now?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Good. Grab a broom and clean up that glass.”
I sighed again, and did as he asked. I filled up the dustpan three times. By that time, Ethan was fully awake.
“What happened?” he asked. “And why do I have a headache?”
I dumped the broken glass into the wastebasket and rushed to his side. Quinn was already there, looking into his eyes with a small, pen-sized flashlight. “Pupils are still a bit slow dilating. A regular person would have himself quite a concussion there.”
“What happened?” Ethan repeated, rubbing both sides of his head.
“You crashed at full speed,” I explained. It didn’t come out quite right. I felt like I needed to say much more. Like the fact that only a minute before, I’d been laughing at other people slipping and falling, and how I practically tried to murder two of my friends.
“Sounds like fun.” He closed his eyes again. Then he wobbled and almost fell out of his chair. Both Quinn and myself caught him and propped him back up.
“He’ll be fine,” Quinn assured me once again. “He just needs a few more minutes.”
Ethan looked far from okay. What if there’s more damage here than he thinks?
“Just keep him propped up and make sure he doesn’t fall.” Quinn walked into his office.
It felt wrong seeing Ethan so helpless, and it made me feel helpless as well. I contemplated having Quinn wipe my memory of the whole morning. I decided against it, but thinking of that made me think of something else. “So, why exactly did you wipe Peter’s memory?”
Quinn peeked his head out of the office. He had a Zip-loc bag of ice in his hands. “Oh, right,” he said, as if he didn’t remember.
I’m pretty sure he hoped I would just forget about the whole thing.
He went back in for a second and then returned with a towel, which he wrapped around the ice bag. Placing it on the top of Ethan’s head, he grabbed my hand and had me hold it in place.
“The boy was another liability,” Quinn informed me. “He wasn’t going to stop using his powers until he destroyed all of you. Not only would that have lost me two of my prize students, but it would have exposed all of us. I needed to keep him quiet. And I needed to stop him from being reckless.” He paused and looked at me for a second, making it clear that the last statement defined me as well. “I mean, the boy shot bolts of lightning in a room of highly flammable cleaning liquids. If you and Ms. Stephenson hadn’t pulled him out, he’d have burned alive along with that Tommy kid.”
“So, why don’t you just wipe my memory too and make me more docile?”
“The nature of your powers makes it impossible for me to control you in any way. That’s why it’s so important that you listen. Believe me, I would prefer being able to plant a suggestion in your head.”
Interesting, I thought. That would mean I can’t use my powers on you, either.
“Not unless I let you.”
The bell rang, starting first period. Late again to Mrs. Blank’s class.
“I’ll write you a pass,” Quinn said. “Relax. I think you’ve had enough stress for today.”
This wasn’t the same Quinn from earlier. He wasn’t angry any more; he was actually gentle and soothing. I couldn’t believe the turnaround. But I had turned around just as quickly, I guess. I’d been happy, then angry, then upset, then angry again, and now just plain relaxed. I was having the same mood swings as my mother, only difference was, I wasn’t pregnant.
“Speaking of stress and mood swings. I think I should tell you how dangerous a Blackout is.”
“Blackout?”
“When you were angry with your two friends, did it seem like a shadow engulfed you?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a Blackout. It happens when your rage consumes you and you throw all of your power at a single target. Well, in this case, two targets. Once you commit to it, it is very hard to get out of. You may very well kill whoever you’re using it on, and yourself in the process.”
“It didn’t affect me at all.”
He gave me a knowing smile. “What do you think that shadow is going to feed on when your targets are dead? I told you, it is very hard to get out of.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
Ethan turned his head. I lost my grip on the ice and it fell to the floor where the bag broke. Ice scattered all over the floor.
“What happened?” he asked. “How long was I out?”
I hugged him as tight as I could without hurting him more. I decided right then, that I would never let him go.
Chapter 26
Letting Go
“Remind me never to go shopping with my mother again,” I told Tiffany after my Saturday trip to the mall.
Tiffany agreed to meet me there after I was done shopping, we decided to grab dinner in the food court and see a movie.
“I know,” she responded between bites of French fries. “My mom’s the same way.”
As much as she thought so, I’d seen her mother shop, she was an amateur compared to mine. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Prove it,” she laughed, then took a sip from her milkshake.
I giggled a little. She had no idea what she was asking me to do. “Okay. Remember, you asked for it.”
I told her the whole story. We got up bright and early because both Macy’s and JC Penny’s were having a sale and my mother wanted to get there early. I neglected to mention that she also carried coupons for $10 off at each store, because she liked to save every single penny possible.
She dragged me to Macy’s first, then to Penny’s where I tried on no less than ten dresses in each store. But that wasn’t enough. We then went to Sears, then Kohls, and then Estelle’s and Angela’s.
“I swear, Tiff, I must have tried on every dress in the mall. Anything you come to buy, I’ll have worn it first.”
“I already got my dress actually,” Tiffany said.
I told her how after five hours my mother brought me back to Macy’s and purchased a light blue dress, which happened to be the very first one I tried on at nine that morning. I neglected to tell my friend that it also happened to be the same light blue dress I had dreamt my mother bought me a couple of days ago. I didn’t want to freak her out. Hell, it still freaked me out.
“So, you’re wearing light blue?” Tiff asked. “Will Ethan be matching you?”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“You mean you’re not going to pick his outfit out for him?”
“Umm…no.”
“Well, I told my date what I’m wearing, a lovely green dress. I told him he needed to match me.”
“Who are you going with, by the way?” I didn’t even know until she just mentioned it that Tiffany even had a date.
“Oh, we didn’t tell you?” Her voice was getting all squeaky. “Savanah set me up with this guy she knows. His name’s Gregory—his family’s rolling in it.”
Leave it to Tiffany to land herself a rich boy.
Well, good for her. She deserves a little happiness after what David did to her.
I missed just talking with Tiffany. It seemed that most of my conversations lately were about superpowers and fighting bad guys, and the do’s and don’ts of mind control. It was so relaxing having a normal conversation about normal teenaged things for a change.
“Six weeks and counting, right?” Tiffany asked out of nowhere.
The change of subject threw me. “What?”
“Your birthday,” she said, as if I should have known. “March fifth. Getting your car. Remember?”
“Oh, right, yeah.” I said. Truth was, I hadn’t thought about my car in over a week. I’d saved up enough money, just over six thousand dollars. I wasn’t even sure I wanted it anymore. As far as I was concerned, Ethan could carry me everywhere and we’d get there a lot faster than if I drove at fifty-five miles per hour (a snail’s pace in my eyes).
“I can’t wait till you have a car,” Tiffany added, obviously not sensing my non-enthusiasm. “Then I won’t have to beg my parents to drive me everywhere.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her.
We finished our dinners, then walked through the mall to the theater. At the bookstore, I was tempted to go inside and check out the comics. Instead, I walked by.
What do I have to learn from them?
I was beyond simple books with their simple words. The only one who could teach me anything anymore was myself.
“So, what d’ya want to see?” I asked.
****
The only thing anyone seemed capable of talking about at lunch was the dance. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one to get an outfit over the weekend. Savanah bragged about the dress her mother bought. She showed us pictures she took of herself with her camera phone. It was a strapless, hot pink dress that seemed so tight on her I thought it must cut off circulation somewhere. I was surprised she’d been able to move in it.
“And it cost seven hundred dollars.”
That’s it. I’m going to kill her.
Only Ethan putting his hand on my knee stopped me from lunging over the table and beating the snot out of her. She needed a lesson in humbleness. Why did she always have to show off?
“That’s a lovely dress,” I said without an ounce of sarcasm.
“It’s definitely nicer than mine,” Tiffany added.
“What do you think, Sam?” I wanted to get him into the conversation. His head lay on the table, his lunch uneaten, as it had been for the last week. I needed to cheer him up.
“Whatever.” He picked up a potato chip but put it back down before it made it to his mouth. It seemed as if the table was the only thing holding him up.
There seemed nothing I could do to get him out of the funk he was in. So, if he wouldn’t be happy on his own then I would force him. Tiny tendrils snaked from my mind and attached to his. I located the pleasure centers of his brain, the ones that specifically controlled happiness. I stimulated them, sending soothing, relaxing, happy thoughts, ones that would guarantee a more pleasant mood.
It worked almost immediately. His back straightened, his face brightened. Positive energy flowed off him like a waterfall. His mood had done a complete one-eighty.
Everything was okay then. He was happy. I don’t know why I had a problem with doing that before. I had the power. I could do anything I wanted. Why couldn’t I use it to benefit all of us?
“Let me take a look at that.” Sam reached for Savanah’s phone.
She happily handed it over to him, wanting to show off her new dress to as many people as she could.
“I think it looks great,” Sam said. “And you look hot in it too.”
Savanah giggled.
Ethan leaned down and whispered. “What did you do?”
I smiled at him, putting forth my most innocent face. “Nothing,” I whispered back.
“I’m not stupid, Chris.”
“I never said you were. But I swear.”
“Don’t lie to me.” He said that a little louder. It caught the attention of the others at the table.
Peter perked up seeing the two of us fighting. I couldn’t believe the boy still thought he had a chance with me.
“Can we talk about this later?” I asked.
“No, I want to do this now. You need to stop doing that. It’s not right.” His voice wasn’t much above a whisper, but I was sure they heard every word.
That was confirmed when Tiffany asked, “Do what?”
She gave us an embarrassed smile. I grew bold then. I could do anything I wanted; it didn’t matter, I was the most powerful person at the table. Plus, if I wasn’t hurting anyone, why should it matter?
“Ethan seems to think that I somehow…” I paused, thinking of the right word to use. I wanted to tell her what was going on without revealing anything about my powers. “… influenced Sam into being happy.”
It was a mistake. I realized that as soon as I said it. While both Sam and Tiffany thought the statement laughable, Savanah and Peter did not. They knew what I was capable of. I had even told Savanah about the last time I forced Sam to do what I wanted. The two of them looked at me like I was the vilest person in the world.
“How could she do that?” Tiffany looked back and forth between Ethan, Sam and myself.
Peter took a different approach. “Did you?”
He didn’t seem surprised I had done something. Even if he had no memory of what happened a couple months ago, some trace of the event must have lingered in his subconscious.
Ethan leaned away from me. I felt so small and exposed, like an ant being looked at through a microscope. I wanted to get up and run away, but I was afraid it would only prove my guilt.
“Well, did you?” Ethan gazed directly into my eyes, a look of loathing on his face. I couldn’t bear to look at him and had to turn away.
A wave of emotion rushed off Sam, and it wasn’t happiness anymore. “What are they talking about, Chris?” His eyes were accusatory as well, as if he finally put the pieces together.
Savanah kept silent. She was, after all, the person who told me it was all right because no one got hurt.
“Christine?” Tiffany said softly.
Everyone waited. For a second time I debated escaping.
Can I tell them about my powers? Three of them already knew, but I had worked very hard to keep things a secret from the others.
“Go ahead,” Ethan prodded. “Tell them.”
“Fine, I will.” I would, once I found the courage.
Whatever happened to keeping our powers a secret? I asked Ethan.
His response was almost immediate. What happened to the girl who said she’d never use her powers on her friends?
Help me.
I might as well have been talking to a brick wall. Ethan turned toward the rest of our group. “Did I ever tell you the first thing Christine told me about herself?”
“OKAY!” I shouted. Then, as all eyes focused back on me I said. “Sam, Tiff, you know when I started acting all freaky at the beginning of the year?”
“Yeah,” said Sam.
“How could we forget?”
I cleared my throat. I had no choice but to tell them now. All I needed to do was pry my lips open and form the words to explain it. I cleared my throat again, stalling, hoping to come up with a better idea. Nothing came.
“It was around that time I discovered I could read people’s minds.” You’d think I was telling them all about the bottle of water I drank that morning for all the enthusiasm it aroused.
“Okay, and what else? Can you fly too?” Tiffany asked incredulously.
No surprise she didn’t believe me. After all, I didn’t believe it at first either. “Not yet,” I said with a slight, unfunny laugh. I was still determined to learn to fly. “I can project my thoughts into other’s minds though, and I can move things when I concentrate. I can also show people their greatest fears.”
“Christine, stop lying. Tell the truth,” Tiffany mentioned.
Sam looked at me though as if he fit the last piece into the puzzle. He was a smart boy, and I was sure that with enough information he’d figure out the whole horrid story.
“I’m not lying,” I assured her. “Do you really think I can make something up like that?”
“Prove it, then.”
I finally understood why this needed to be kept a secret. Now I’d be nothing but a side show freak, performing tricks to the audience. “I will, but you have to promise something first.”
“What?”
Was this what it had all come down to, listing my demands?
“First, you can never tell anyone about this. And I mean no one.”
“Okay.”
“Next you must never ask me to use them to show off.”
Ethan gave a grunt of amusement. Not to show off?
Tiffany nodded.
“And lastly, you won’t judge me the way other people have.” The last comment was meant for Ethan and I made no attempt to mask that fact.
He made no comment. Why was he suddenly acting so smug? How would he like it if I’d outed him like that?
“Okay,” Tiffany said at last.
I reached out to her, and into her head. I needed to make her do something she would never think of doing. Something that would convince her I wasn’t lying. I could only think of one thing. Tendril’s snaked around her brain. I planted a suggestion that told her Savanah’s shirt was on fire.
In less than a second, Tiffany leaped up, grabbed her drink and flung it onto Savanah’s shirt.
“What the hell?” Savanah sprang up to and jumped back from the table.
“Are you all right?” Tiffany hovered next to Savanah.
I pulled out of her head.
She stopped worrying about it when she realized what had happened. When she did, she looked at me with daggers in her eyes. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“You wanted proof.”
Ethan stayed silent, looking amused.
Savanah grabbed her things from the table and leaned in to me. “I hate you, Loser.” She stomped off.
“Me too,” Tiffany said. “Savanah, wait up.”
Sam glared at me for another moment. I think he was waiting for the girls to leave before he spoke. The puzzle pieces had all clicked into place for him. I knew what was coming.
“So, you made me break up with Samantha.” There was venom in his words.
It was true, but it wasn’t how he was thinking it. I settled for the truth. “That was an accident.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He picked up his tray and walked away. That left me with just Ethan—who hadn’t spoken in what felt like forever—and Peter.
Sam walked across the cafeteria to where Samantha sat. I assume it was to reconcile with her. I wondered if he would tell her I manipulated him. I wondered if she would believe him.
I didn’t know what to do. The truth apparently wasn’t going to help me. At that point no amount of apologizing would help either.
They were right. Who “they” were, I wasn’t really sure, but they certainly were right. Revealing a secret was always a mistake, especially one that involved superpowers. Once they knew, they all thought differently about me. I felt the difference in their brain patterns. They were afraid. No wonder my grandfather never mentioned his powers to anyone. Even my grandmother, I’m sure, would have run out on him. There was something to fear from someone who could read and manipulate your every thought.
“Are you happy now?” I asked Ethan. “I’ve lost all my friends.”
He still had a rather satisfied smile on his face. “Oh, who needs them anyway? We have the power. We can do anything we want.”
My own words sounded so harsh coming out of his mouth. But they weren’t actually my words. They were my thoughts. How had he heard them?
“I don’t think you realize just how loud your thoughts are sometimes.”
Great. He can hear my thoughts now.
Ethan stood up then. The way he looked down at me made me feel like a child. “I was wrong about you, Chris. You wouldn’t make a good superhero after all. I think you make a better villain.”
Calling me a villain meant Ethan had lost respect for me.
“Until you get your head on straight, I don’t think I can be around you.”
Through all the pain, there was only one question I could think to ask. “Does this mean you’re breaking up with me?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you read my mind and find out?” He walked off without another word.
I held back the tears that threatened to burst through my eyeballs. I was torn with my need to cry and my want to tear Ethan to shreds. In the end, crying won, hands down.
I knew people were looking at me, all wondering what happened. Most assumed it was my time of the month, the rest thought Ethan hit me. Startling me, Peter placed a consoling hand on my back.
“Sorry.” He pulled back. “Sorry.” He looked so pathetic, like a puppy that didn’t know how to help its master.
“Get out of here, Pete.” I was glad I managed not to offend at least one person. I still didn’t want the boy hanging around, feeling sorry for me.
He didn’t go away. He didn’t even move.
“Get away!” I shouted, causing him to scoot his chair back a couple inches.
“Christine…”
“I don’t want to talk.”
He sighed and leaned on the table. He scribbled something on a napkin. Standing up, he slid it under my hand. “Call me. You can vent as much as you want. I promise not to judge you.” Then he too walked away.
I couldn’t decide whether he was doing this because he actually cared, or if he was still trying to get me to go out on a date with him. Either way, I didn’t want to take any chances. I dropped the napkin, unread, on the floor.
Everyone hated me. They shouldn’t have. I did everything I could for them. I made Sam happier. I got Tiffany a new best friend. I gave Peter a group to hang out with, and Ethan…
I loved him. It was sad I only figured it out now, after our relationship was officially over. He obviously didn’t feel the same way. If he did, he wouldn’t have broken up with me so easily.
Maybe he did love me. He didn’t like what I was doing, so he had to let me go.
He called you a villain, the voice reminded me.
He didn’t mean it, I defended.
You know that’s not true.
His reaction to a little mind manipulation was unfounded. There was no way he could love me. At least, he couldn’t love me the same way I loved him. I would have loved him no matter what he did. Unconditional love was like that. No matter what the person did, you didn’t just let them go. You discussed it and you worked around it. You didn’t just feed them to the wolves.
Well, if he hates me, I’m just going to hate him too.
It sounded like a decent mantra to practice. The only real question was whether or not I could accomplish it.
I got up, a little shakily, and threw my lunch tray out. I was about to walk out the door, but stopped. I don’t know why, but I walked back to my table and picked up Peter’s napkin from the floor. I stuffed it in my pocket, and left, never intending to enter that room again.
Chapter 27
Loneliness
I can’t begin to explain how loud boredom can be.
We’ve always read those passages in English with the oxymorons. I kept going back to one that said, “Silence is deafening.” I never really understood what it meant until two nights after that afternoon in the cafeteria.
I’d tried call Ethan, I’d tried to text him, but couldn’t go through with it. It was the same with all of my friends. I was still so angry I didn’t want to associate myself with them.
Which was why I was utterly bored. No work. No one to hang out with. Nothing to do.
I even started to call Peter, but after dialing six digits, couldn’t hit the seventh. I really didn’t want to talk to him, either. My mother wondered what was wrong. She assumed I was having problems with Ethan, but she didn’t realize yet that he’d dumped me. I didn’t want to tell her. The only problem was that she still expected me to go to the dance the following night. I wasn’t completely sure what to do about that.
To kill time, I cleaned my room, but that only took an hour. The task was made harder by the fact that I refused to use my telekinetic powers. I didn’t want to use any of my powers anymore. All they did was cause problems.
It was only seven o’clock. I had at least three more hours before I was ready to go to bed.
Maybe I can run my head into the wall until I knock myself out.
One thing I was trying to avoid doing... My grandfather’s journal sat on my end table where I left it on Christmas night. I’d reached for it twice already, but hadn’t opened it. I wasn’t sure how much I actually wanted to read it. I didn’t want to use my powers anymore, so the journal served no real purpose.
“What do you mean, Michigan?” I heard my mother yell.
“That’s where the job is,” my father responded calmly.
They were downstairs, but their voices carried. I opened my bedroom door and peeked into the hall.
“What did you tell them?” My mother’s voice was still raised, it had a high pitched tone in it.
They must have been talking about the job interview my father went on the other day. It sounded like he got the job.
“I told them I would think about it.”
Even without reading his mind I knew he wasn’t thrilled about what he was saying. “They want an answer tomorrow morning.”
“Tell them no!”
“It’s not that simple.”
I couldn’t believe it. My father was actually considering moving us to Michigan. There was no way I was moving anywhere. This was my home. This was where my… where I used to have friends.
“I would be the boss. It pays over ninety thousand dollars.”
Ninety thousand dollars a year could put us on easy street. I had to agree with him, turning down the job was not simple. I didn’t think I could turn that kind of money down, ever.
The amount of money seemed to stop my mother in her tracks as well. Even though I wasn’t trying, I felt her emotional confusion. She was torn between anger that my father would consider it, and excitement that a great deal more money would be coming in.
“Ninety thousand? Really?”
“That’s what Mr. Baumgarten said.”
Thinking the argument was over I contemplated going back to my room. I didn’t think my mother could argue with that. She waited until my butt left the top stair to speak, causing me to plant myself right back down.
“No! No! You can’t. We can’t. It would be wrong! This is our home! Our friends, our family are all here. Christine is going to graduate in two years. We can’t just uproot her life for this.” It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself of those facts than my father.
I couldn’t let this happen. If my mother could be swayed so easily, then I was next. The only difference was that it wouldn’t be so much a discussion as an order. They’d call me down and simply tell me to pack my things, that we were moving. I’d have to change their minds. Change how they thought about it.
NO! I shouted inside my own skull.
I wouldn’t use my powers like that again. They’d already gotten me into trouble. I wasn’t about to lose the confidence of my parents by messing around in their heads. It was wrong.
“Do you think I haven’t considered that?” my father said. “Let’s face it, we aren’t going to get by on just my salary when the baby comes. Christine is getting ready for college, and the little bit we have saved for her isn’t going to pay it all. So it’s either this, or you’re going to have to work and we’re going to need daycare for the baby.”
Thinking of my mother working sent a chill down my spine. She was brought up that the woman’s place was in the home. While that wasn’t right for me, it suited her. There was no reason she should have to work. Hell, I couldn’t picture her working.
“Where am I going to get a job? You think we’re going to make it by paying for daycare while I work at Walmart for minimum wage?” She sounded more resigned than angry. She had begun to cry.
“Honey, relax. One way or another, it will work out.”
“Can you ask him for a week so we can try and work something out?” She was weeping now.
“He wants an answer in the morning. Apparently they need someone to start immediately. If I don’t answer, he’ll just go to the next name on the list. So, we need to make a decision tonight.”
It got quiet again.
Sneaking back to my room, I kept thinking of ways to prevent a move from happening. The worst part was, nothing came to mind other than using my powers.
Even worse, if we moved, I would never get the chance to apologize to my friends. I couldn’t live with that.
I needed something to take my mind off of what was happening. Again, my eyes wandered to my grandfather’s journal. I picked it up and sighed. I guess I didn’t have any other choice. It wasn’t like I was going to venture downstairs and watch TV. So, I flipped open the book to where my grandfather left off on Christmas Day, and began reading.
March 20th, 1944
Three weeks of training and finally we are all brought together again. Morris is still with me, as are the other men’s trainers, but we are all now under the tutelage of Sergeant Worthington. Again, I’m not sure why he’s been asked to train us. He has no powers. I’m better than him; we are all better than him.
Sergeant Worthington’s here to teach us combat techniques. How we can most effectively use our powers to annihilate our enemies. Become the most effective killing machines. I already am a killing machine. With a single thought I can make the enemy’s commanding officer put a bullet in his head.
The Nazis better be on the lookout!
March 22nd, 1944
Battle Coordinator: my new title. I don’t get in on the fighting. I serve as instantaneous communication between the forces on the battlefield. During training, I have used my power to control my teammates to most efficiently destroy my enemies. Sergeant Worthington feeds me information and I control the soldiers as if they are pawns in a chess game.
I like the feeling of being in control. My control over them makes me the most powerful of all. Their lives are in my hands. Only I can choose if they live or die. I get to choose which of them will sacrifice themselves for the good of the mission.
I suppose that also makes me a God.
March 23rd, 1944
There’s a little more than a month before we ship out; there has been no mention of us having leave before then. I don’t think they have any intention of letting us go. I am not going to Europe without saying goodbye to Sandra. If they try to stop me, they are going to be sorry.
March 24th, 1944
I cannot stand this place, these people. They are stifling me. They are going to drive me insane. Drescoe can’t stop talking about how he would like to run around the entire globe, to see how long it would take him. Gary uses himself as a reading lamp after lights-out. And Morris and Worthington won’t leave me alone. They keep making me hold back on my powers. They tell me if I’m not careful I’m going to kill somebody.
What does that matter to me? They might have special powers, but they are still foot soldiers. They are meant to be cannon fodder. When I told that to Worthington, he didn’t seem pleased. He has men watching me now like I don’t know they’re there. I hear their every thought; I feel their every emotion. They report back to the Sergeant every minute of my day.
Since when do the peasants keep tabs on their king?
March 25th, 1944
Tim Nottage joined us today. I’d barely realized one of us had been missing from our powers training. He can apparently turn his body from a solid to a liquid or a gas in seconds. Wilhelm’s men have been helping him keep his solid form for a month. What a pathetic soldier he’ll make if he can’t stay solid.
This base is too small, too confining. I’ve been around it so many times. Even the restricted areas, which once excited me, are old news. I used to enjoy seeing all the research and experiments. Now that I’ve a handle on my powers, nothing they do matters. Why bother making an invisible ship when you can make a human that can sink an enemy fleet with a single thought?
They’re wasting their time, and until they let me loose on the Nazis, they’re wasting mine as well.
March 27th, 1944
We keep running through battle scenarios. We change the terrain, the number of soldiers, the weaponry. We practice attacking a target and defending a base. Over a regular soldier we come out on top every time. It’s not even a challenge.
I turned the page, but there was nothing else written in the book.
Chapter 28
Finishing the Story
I flipped through the pages at least a hundred times, as if magic might put words there.
Words did once fill the end of the book. It looked like something spilled there long ago, maybe back when my grandfather was writing in it. All the ink had washed off the pages, making them unreadable.
I needed to get the rest of the story. The only person who could tell me was my grandfather. At the end of the readable entries he was a monster, completely power hungry and… dangerous. I could tell by the handwriting, the person who wrote the last entries was not the same person who wrote the first ones, and it wasn’t the person my grandfather had become.
Whatever happened on those pages must have been important. It was probably that information my grandfather wanted me to read, and now they were lost forever.
I grabbed my cell and dialed my grandfather. It rang twice. “Hello, Christine,” my grandfather answered.
“How did you know?” I couldn’t read thoughts or minds over the phone. Could he?
“Caller ID, dear. Not even I’m that good.”
“Right. Duh.”
He laughed again. “What’s on your mind?”
What an appropriate question. How could I tell him all the memories he’d hoped to preserve were gone? He’d be so upset.
I apparently hadn’t spoken for a while, because my grandfather said, “Are you still there, hun?”
“Yeah, uhhh… I don’t know how to tell you this, but your journal got something spilled on it. I didn’t do it!” I had to add that part on before he could yell at me for being careless.
“I know. I spilled a coffee on it during the war. It took a few years but the pages faded.”
A wave of relief flooded through me. But that meant his memories were lost forever. Who would pass these pages along after he was gone?
Why would he make me read the journal if it was incomplete? It made me think he wanted me to see him as a monster. But that didn’t make sense. Besides, there was a more pressing question to ask. “Why didn’t you rewrite them?”
I heard his low chuckle on the other end of the line. “It wouldn’t have been the same. I wanted to. To preserve them. But I realized even then that the memories were already jaded. I was looking back on them with nostalgia, even though some were terrifying.”
“Why did you keep the journal all these years?”
“To remind me of what I could have become.”
I’m pretty sure what he could have become, but I needed to know how he prevented it. I needed to know how I could prevent it in myself.
“Grandpa, I need to know what the rest of your journal said.”
It was only then I realized that back on Christmas Day, he’d already tried to explain. But I hadn’t been ready to listen yet.
“All right, Christine,” he said, resigned. “But you must promise not to interrupt.”
“Okay.”
“That’s not a promise.”
He seemed determined not to fail me again. As I thought about the words, I realized he was blaming himself for my attitude. That didn’t feel right. It was my fault—not his. He tried. I didn’t.
“I promise.”
“Thank you,” he said and then remained silent for a moment. What was he going to say? I prepared myself for every bit of wisdom he was willing to impart.
“Understand,” he said, “that above all, I was a soldier. We were all soldiers, trained to kill. We were told the enemy was evil and needed to be destroyed. I want you to know that no enemy is totally evil. Yes, Hitler and those closest to him were probably some of the foulest beings ever to walk this planet. But many of the soldiers, like me, were nothing more than men doing their duty, serving their country. Can you really call them evil?”
The answer was no. It would be like a doctor being called a murderer for accidentally giving someone a drug they were allergic to. He was getting off topic though. I wanted to hear about what was missing from the journal. “What does this have to do with the journal?” I asked.
“You promised not to interrupt.”
I remained silent.
“The journal shows how your powers can turn to evil in just a short amount of time. It’s what happens when you let power go to your head. Hitler let his power get out of control. He thought himself invincible. There are still people out there who claim he was. That he never died.”
Psychos, I thought.
“I let that power go to my head. I almost became the very thing I wished to fight. I used my power for my own personal amusement. I thought of myself as God. I could do anything I wanted. General Wilhelm noticed this in me. He made every attempt to stop it, but I was the only one who could. I’m trying to give you the same direction, Christine. So you don’t make the same mistakes.”
He paused. I could tell that he was choosing his next words carefully. I couldn’t be sure if it was to protect himself or me. “When I saw you a couple weeks ago, I felt the darkness within you. You were relying on your powers for everything. I sensed how powerful you thought you were. I was at that same point… in the journal. We were still training, everyday. We were getting ready for what would eventually be known as D-Day. General Wilhelm and Sergeant Worthington day after day trained us, until we were the perfect fighting unit. They called us the Dirty Dozen.”
“Didn’t they make a movie about that?”
“Yeah, and it was totally wrong. We were nothing like the soldiers in that movie. That’s beside the point. They put us through different scenarios. Mostly invasion, like having us take the high ground, or attacking a heavily fortified structure. They were preparing us for one purpose: storming the beach at Normandy and getting a foothold in France. Any of us who survived the invasion would then be charged with punching a hole through the enemy lines, straight to Berlin.
“The problem was, I was less than cooperative. They ordered me to flank left, but I believed an attack from the right to be more prudent. I didn’t listen. As good as we were, we had a great deal to learn—myself especially. Only now do I see how I put my men in danger time and time again. Honestly, I’m surprised I have any friends left from that group.”
I was thinking about my friends. It had taken a couple of days, but I finally realized it was my fault they abandoned me. I abandoned our friendship first. I needed to make amends. I would have to try extra hard with Ethan and Sam.
“I made them do evil things to each other,” Grandpa continued, “all for my own personal amusement.” He sounded sad and angry, like he hated himself every moment he had to relive those memories. “I made your friend Ethan’s grandfather do horrible things to the others. I mean, at the time I thought of them as simple practical jokes, but now I see how cruel they were. I made Drescoe flip men out of their bunks in the middle of the night. I made Walen think he was so dirty he needed to shower.
“Isn’t he the guy with the electric skin?” I asked.
“Yes. And as you know, water and electricity is a lethal combination. Twice I made Smith set fire to the bunkhouse and watched as the men ran out screaming.”
My grandfather was much crueler than I had been. I wondered if he started out like I had, with little things, and moved up to larger pranks. I wondered if I could ever do things like that. I also wondered if Peter was able to shower since his power was similar to Gary Walen’s. Maybe Peter is related to Walen.
“I could tell you were on your way there.”
“How did you stop yourself?” I asked, kicking myself for breaking my promise again. “You’re obviously not like that now. What made you change?”
“This is the part I wish survived in the journal. It shows how truly low I sank.” The way his voice sounded told me this was the worst part of the story. He wasn’t proud of it, but as much as he was ashamed, I could tell he was almost glad it happened. If it hadn’t, things might have turned out very differently.
“It was late April, just a couple of weeks before we were sent to Europe. I had made numerous requests to take a short leave to see your grandmother. It was standard practice, and it still is today, that before soldiers are shipped overseas they are given a pass for a few days to see their loved ones.
“I was denied for the fourth or fifth time. General Wilhelm told me it was just too dangerous to let us out in the open. ‘What if something happens?’ he said. It got me wondering then if they had any intention of ever letting us go back to our families. It was then I decided to teach the general a lesson.
“We were laying siege to a bunker filled with enemy combatants. That was our training that day. The twelve of us—me standing on the sidelines coordinating, and the others pressing the attack—laid waste to the soldiers outside. We were getting ready to go after the bunker. General Wilhelm stood beside me, supervising me, making sure I followed all the ru… les.” His voice broke.
I could tell this was the part he was dreading. I hated making him tell me this, but I needed to hear it. I had to know just how low I could sink.
“I got into his head and made him walk right out onto the battlefield. I intended to hurt him, teach him a lesson for keeping us all prisoner.”
I heard anger in his voice. Some of what he felt back then was still there, even after all the years since.
“But something went wrong. One second he was standing outside the bunker as if going on an inspection tour. I still see that image in my head, across the battlefield, standing before the building, arms folded behind his back, chest stuck out. One second he was there, the next a giant fireball sent him hurtling across the battlefield like a meteor hitting the atmosphere. He was dead before he hit the ground.
“My remorse was nothing compared to what Smith felt. It was his fireball that killed him. I never could bring myself to tell him he wasn’t at fault. I controlled his actions as much as mine. I only intended to singe the general a little, not murder him. But murder him I did.”
“Oh my God!”
“Of course it went into the record as a training exercise accident. I suppose that’s true enough. I vowed never to use my powers again, but the army would have none of that. I was their tool to use as they saw fit. They forced me to fight, to use my powers for the greater good. I could easily have fought them. I could have wiped out their memories. But I just didn’t have the will to do so anymore. I served my tours, I helped win the war. We were on the front lines at every major battle. We defeated the Nazis at every encounter. We might have even been the ones to assassinate Hitler…if the air squadrons hadn’t beaten us to it. Once the war was over, we came home. I married your grandmother soon after. Then I was honorably discharged from service and the government all but forgot about the Dirty Dozen. I’ve rarely ever used my powers since.”
He stopped then. I heard his heavy breathing as he fought the urge to scream out. I wondered whether or not he spilled coffee on his journal on purpose.
I remained silent, only because I wasn’t sure what to say. It took the death of a man to turn my grandfather around. I was glad I was stopped long before that.
I’d come close though. I’d almost killed Peter the morning he skated by us. I could very well have killed Kyle and Lance when their prank hurt Ethan. I may have even killed Samantha, had I known what I was doing with my powers at the time. I hadn’t intended to kill any of them, but I could have just the same. My powers, contrary to what my grandfather said, were truly evil. At least, they could become evil if left unchecked. I vowed never to let them get to that point again.
When my grandfather spoke again, his voice sounded more like a croak. “That’s why I’m so concerned about you. I don’t want you to become that person. I sensed the raw anger in you that day. I hope what I’ve said has changed things.”
“Yeah, it has.” I had a long way to go before I could control it like he could, but at least I knew what direction I needed to head.
“Good. So, have you figured out how to fly yet?”
The question took me off guard. What a change of subject. His tone was so much more cheery than for our whole conversation. I couldn’t answer right away. “I uh… no. I haven’t even practiced yet.”
“Well, practice. I expect you to fly circles around me the next time I see you. Remember, it’s more of a pull than a push.”
“Thanks, I’ll remember.”
“I have to go. You’re grandmother is going to wonder what we could be talking about for so long. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Okay, Grandpa. I love you. Bye.”
“Love you too.”
I placed my cell on the end table next to the journal. It was half past nine. Wow, time flies. I got ready for bed, poking my head into the hall to see if I could hear my parents talking anymore.
Are they still deciding whether we would move or not?
I lay down, mentally exhausted. As soon as my head hit the pillow, something clicked in my head. I sprang back up and shouted, “Oh crap!”
All of my friends were going to die!
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