HSH: Camp Hero - Chap 11-12
Continuing the Camp Hero Story!
Here we go with the next installment of Camp Hero. Check out all the fun action.
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Read the previous chapters.
Chapter 11
Inside the Envelope
One last “counseling” session and I’m free! I thought as I left Quinn’s office that afternoon.
As promised, he’d given me something to look into while I was in New York. He refused to tell me what it was, but he gave me an envelope with instructions not to open it until I got to the city.
Didn’t he realize the suspense would be too much for me? The envelope would be lucky if it made it back to my house intact, let alone a six-hour drive to Manhattan.
Unfortunately, even my trek home would have to wait. Abby Davidson was already waiting, in her usual chair, a smug look on her face.
Smug wasn’t a good sign.
“Good afternoon, Christine,” she said. “How was your day?”
“Fine.”
“What happened today?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” she repeated. “Are you sure?”
I rolled my eyes and heaved a sigh. Here it comes.
“You sure you didn’t have a fight with a friend during lunch?”
“I’ve had enough of this!” I shouted, unable to hold back. “It’s one thing to force me to sit here for a half hour after school every day, but you have no right to spy on me!”
“I think we both know I have every right to do that.” Her voice was even, but there was the hint of a threat in it. “So, why don’t you tell me what happened between you and Tiffany Zane?”
My blood began to boil. I wanted to hurt her. It took everything I had not to flip the table over onto her. I realized again that she was trying to get me angry. When I was angry, I didn’t think. I would reveal myself.
Deep breath, I told myself. I listened. But if she wanted to play games, I would play too.
I couldn’t read her mind, but there was something I could do about it. All I needed to do was find the device hidden behind her ear. If I deactivated it, her thoughts should light up on my radar like an aircraft carrier.
“You really want to know what happened with me and Tiff?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
Reaching out mentally, I searched for the device.
“She confided to me that she wants to have a baby, which is a stupid idea in the first place. At lunch today, I accidentally said something about it.”
Wow! It was small. It couldn’t have been larger than a pinhead.
Which is probably why it’s so effective.
It wasn’t easy, because it was designed to block exactly what I was doing, but I managed to get a tight grip on the tiny device.
If she noticed, she gave no sign of it. “Is that all? Just a misspoken word?”
“Why would I lie?”
I crushed the device.
In an instant, a flood of thoughts and emotions filled my head to the brim.
The only indication Abby Davidson gave that something was wrong was a tiny flicker of her eyes in the direction of the ear the device had been behind.
“Why not lie?”
I’ve already caught you. Just give up. You think you’ve fooled me. But I already know your secret. Though she thought the words, I knew she didn’t believe them. Her mind was trying to rationalize what just happened.
“Because I’m not deceitful. Like you.” I added that as a slap on the face. She would know exactly what I meant.
I have to change the subject. Catch her off guard, Abby thought. She was starting to panic, unsure of what to do now that her thought blocking toy was gone.
“I’ve also noticed you make frequent visits to Mr. Quinn’s room.” She was good. Her voice didn’t betray a hint of her turbulent emotions. “Tell me about that.”
I smelled blood and, like a shark, I was going for the kill. “Why don’t you tell me how you’re getting all this information? It’s more than any school counselor should know.”
Don’t let her beat you! she told herself. There was still no outward sign that anything was amiss.
“You haven’t answered my question,” she said. “It seems unnatural that a young girl would continually visit a teacher when she doesn’t even take his class.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“What do you think I’m suggesting?”
Damn. The window was closed. Her momentary panic had passed. She returned to her “fake-counselor” mode – back in control. I’d missed my chance.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said.
“Why not? If it’s nothing, you shouldn’t have a problem sharing it with me.”
“It is nothing,” I said.
I’ve got her. She’s backed into a corner, Abby thought. “What was inside the envelope he gave you this afternoon?”
“How did you know about that? It was only a few minutes ago.”
“I know everything that goes on in this school, Christine. So, why don’t you stop playing games and be honest with me? I’m not the enemy here.”
“Really?” I rolled my eyes.
“Read my mind if you don’t believe me.” Her expression never changed, but I felt her satisfaction rolling off her.
Oh crap. She had me. She really had me.
“What was in the envelope?” she asked.
“I haven’t opened it.”
She leaned forward, and I could feel her interest pique. So, there was at least one thing she didn’t know. I wanted to keep the information from her, but I already knew where this conversation was going.
“Why don’t we open it together? Find out what’s inside?”
“You already know I’m not going to do that.” I saw no reason to play any more. Despite what she said – she was my enemy. There was no reason to continue the counselor/student façade.
“You also know that I can detain you, without cause, for up to forty-eight hours, correct?” She wasn’t going to play the game anymore either. Now she was Agent Davidson, in all her glory.
This woman was evil. Even as I thought this, I pulled the envelope out of the pocket in my schoolbag and tossed it on the table. She plucked it up and tore it open.
This is it! If this is what I think it is, then I’ve finally found him. Again, if I hadn’t been able to feel her excitement, I would never have guessed she had any emotion at all about the letter.
She pulled the paper from the envelope and unfolded it. In an instant, her excitement dissipated. Frustration rose to take its place. Her fists clenched slightly, crumpling the paper in her hands. She glared daggers at me, and I figured whatever she saw on that paper somehow got me into trouble.
“Is this some kind of joke?” She tossed the paper at me.
I picked it up. As I surveyed the paper, I realized. I flipped it over two or three times, a bit confused.
Why would Quinn give me a blank piece of paper?
The look on my face must have told Abby Davidson that I was just as baffled as her, because she didn’t press the matter.
“You can go.” It was the first time she’d expressed any negative emotion. Her face showed the stress she’d been trying to hide.
Caught off guard again, I sat there, stuck to the spot. I didn’t understand. “I can go?”
“Yeah. Go.” She didn’t gaze at me – just waved her hand in the direction of the door.
I must have been insane, because even as I refolded the blank paper and stuffed it back into my schoolbag, I asked, “Why?”
“Because there’s no point in holding you anymore. You’re no threat to us.”
“But you know what I am. You were sent to get people like me.”
“I told you, I’m not your enemy.”
I was going to argue. I was going to shout about my dream. I was going to scream about how only a week and a half ago, her men had tried to kill me and my friends. Instead, I nodded. There was no point in picking a fight now – especially since she no longer seemed to want one.
I slung my schoolbag over my shoulder. I had about a thousand questions, but I didn’t press my luck. She could just as easily change her mind and decide to arrest me. Before I stepped out of the room, there was one thing I needed to know.
Reaching into her head, I plucked the information as easily as I could from anyone, then walked out. Now, I had what I needed: the name of the boy she was after—Edward Eagan. He was still one boy in a city of millions. At least with a name, I had someplace to start.
Edward Eagan, my mind repeated. I wanted to make sure I didn’t forget it.
The drive home was quick, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. I had pretty much admitted I had powers. She’d pretty much admitted she was an Agent. There should have been a battle between us that destroyed Thomas Jefferson High School.
But she let me go. Why?
By the time I pulled up to my house, I was still trying to figure that question out.
I ran in the door and greeted my mother and Conner. She didn’t even say hello.
“So?”
I pulled the test out my bag and showed her the ninety percent at the top. “I got my A, as promised. So I’m going to grab my things and get going.”
I made it two steps up the stairs when she said, “Hold it, young lady.”
No! She can’t go back on our deal now! I’d done everything I needed to. She couldn’t stop me from going.
I stopped, dead in my tracks. “What?”
“You’re not driving to New York.”
She was going back on our deal! It didn’t matter. I’d just sneak out while she wasn’t looking. “No. We had an agreement! I’m going whether you like it or not.”
“First, don’t talk to me like that, young lady.” She was angry. “Second, I’m not saying you can’t go.”
All right, now I was really confused. “Then how am I supposed to get there if I can’t drive?”
“I bought you a train ticket. Your grandfather’s going to drop you off in an hour.”
“Why can’t I take my car?”
Conner began crying and my mother bounced him in her arms.
“I’ve lived in the city, dear.” She wasn’t really looking at me anymore. “It’s dangerous to drive in the city. Besides, there’s no place to park.”
I hadn’t thought of that. I didn’t even consider what I would do with my car while I was in the city. I ran up the stairs. “Okay, I’ll be down with my stuff in a minute.”
I’d mostly packed my bag. I had enough clothes, including my “superhero” outfit, just in case. I just needed my cell phone charger and Grandpa Carpenter’s journal. I even grabbed the blank piece of paper from Quinn’s envelope, wanting to study it on the train ride, just in case it yielded any clues. Once I shoved those into my bag, I zipped it up and trekked back downstairs.
Conner was still crying, and my mother was still comforting him. She rocked him while trying to shove his pacifier in his mouth, with little effect.
“Mom, you need to change his diaper.” The only reason I knew was because an image of Conner’s changing table appeared in my head. It must have been number one, because he didn’t have an awful stench.
“That’s impossible. I just changed him right before you walked in.”
I shrugged, then, walked past her to grab a snack in the kitchen. “Trust me. He needs a change.”
Grandpa was sitting at the table. His mouth was a straight line while he watched me rummage through the cupboard. I could tell I was going to get a lecture, but as I grabbed a box of cookies, he didn’t open his mouth.
I sat across the table from him. He just stared at me as I shoved a cookie in my mouth. I knew he wanted to say something. I knew he was going to yell at me for some stupid thing I’d done. I was pretty sure I knew what it was, but I wasn’t bringing it up.
The silence in the room was unbearable. The crunching of the cookies seemed a lot louder than they should have been. I kept waiting for him to say something – anything. But he just sat there, with his lips pressed together tightly.
Unable to take the silence anymore, I asked, “So, you’re taking me to the train station?”
“Yes.” Then he was silent again.
A moment later, Conner’s wails faded as my mother went to check on his diaper – finally. If she’d only listened to me in the first place, he’d be clean and happy already. Unfortunately, the advice of a sixteen-year-old girl doesn’t hold much weight.
As soon as my mother’s footsteps faded, my grandfather turned on me. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The suddenness of his attack caught me off guard. “What do you mean?”
“Didn’t we talk about not doing anything dangerous? Like keeping a low profile?”
“Yeah. And I have been. We haven’t gone out since that article.”
“So, what about this trip of yours? A trip you never mentioned to me.”
“I’m just visiting my other grandparents.” We both knew it was a lie even before I said the first word.
“Christine.” With a single word, my grandfather sent a chill down my spine.
“Fine, Grandpa. You know why I’m going. But I can’t ignore my dream. He does exist. I even got his name from Abby Davidson this afternoon.”
“It’s not your concern. You know what would happen if I chased every vision I’ve had through the years? I’d never be home, and chances are, I wouldn’t be here now because I would’ve gotten myself killed.”
“You have these visions too?” I asked. “Did you see the boy then?”
He sighed. “No, I didn’t.”
There was regret in his voice. I’m not sure if a normal person would have picked up on it, but my empathic abilities made me more aware of other’s emotions. There was something he hadn’t done, that he wished he could have. I wonder what it was.
I couldn’t help myself. I had to ask. “What have you seen then?”
He didn’t answer. He actually looked away. My grandfather never did that. It must be something terrible.
“What if something horrible happens to this boy because I didn’t show up?” I asked softly. I didn’t want to upset him anymore, but he needed to see things from my perspective. “I don’t want to go. I’d rather stay here and babysit Conner. But I won’t let something happen if I can prevent it.” That’s where we were different, my grandfather and I, I supposed. I was willing to go that extra mile and help someone – even if I didn’t know who they were.
“Let’s go.” He rose from the table, and I could tell the conversation was over – for now. “We don’t want to be late for your train.”
Chapter 12
Train-Ing
At last, I was on my way. It seemed like days had gone by since the math test that morning. But at last I was boarding the train to New York City. My mom told me Grandpa Walker was meeting me at Penn Station at eleven o’clock.
“Why’s it going to take so long?” I had asked.
“It’s just the train’s schedule dear,” she’d explained and gave me a kiss. “Now, be good for your grandparents. Try not to cause too much trouble.”
“They won’t even know I’m there,” I said – knowing full well that if things went well, I really wouldn’t be there.
My grandfather didn’t say much on the way to the Pittsburgh Amtrak station. When we arrived, he held out the ticket and said only two words: “Be careful.”
I grabbed my ticket, thanked him for the ride and ran into the station.
On the train, I selected a quiet car, with very few people in it, and slung my bag into the overhead rack. By the time we got underway, it was nearly six o’clock. No wonder I won’t get there until 11, I thought as the train chugged away down the tracks. The tall buildings of Pittsburgh were soon replaced by the open fields of Pennsylvania, a sight I hadn’t seen for a long time.
I pulled the blank paper out of my bag and looked at it again. I couldn’t figure out why Quinn would give me this and then tell me it was something I should look into. It made no sense. I flipped it over again and again, looking at it from every angle I could think of. It really was just a blank piece of paper.
After about a half an hour, I grew frustrated and shoved it into the pocket of my jeans. Then, deciding I was hungry, I made a quick trek to the food car, two cars back. It was like one of those little cafes where you can order the coffee drinks with the long names that all ended in “O”. The prices were outrageous. But I was hungry, and had about three hundred dollars with me, so I sprang for a turkey sandwich and an iced tea.
While I sat at one of the small tables, I pulled the paper out again. I knew there had to be something more to it than there appeared. Quinn wouldn’t just do something like this for a laugh. Hell, I didn’t even know if Quinn laughed.
So, if he wouldn’t have just given me a blank piece of paper, it had to have something on it. Something maybe only I could read in case…
What if he knew Abby Davidson would try to look at it? Then he would keep the information from her, any way he could. That made sense at least. It had to be only something I could read, or at least, someone with my ability. But how? What would it take to read a blank piece of paper?
The answer came to me. Quinn had shown me how to read the paper. Again, I would have to clear my mind. I could do it. It wasn’t like the test that morning where I would have to hold on to the emptiness for long. I needed just a few seconds, long enough to get the answer.
So I set to clearing my mind for the second time that day. I tossed my depression caused by Tiffany’s anger. I threw out the confusion from when Abby Davidson released me. I severed my ties with what my grandfather had, or hadn’t, done. And before I knew it, my mind was a complete blank.
I held the paper in front of my face. What is on this paper?
My mind was pulled from the train in that instant. It seemed to fly back toward Jefferson Hills, and watched as the sun seemingly moved backward in sky, to that afternoon. I was in Quinn’s office, where he held a piece of plain white paper in his hands. He took a pencil, and flipped it over so the eraser would touch the page instead of the point. He quickly wrote something on the page – two words.
It took me a second to see what he’d written, but clear as day, written in eraser gunk, were the words: Montauk Point.
Then he wiped his hand over the paper and the marks were gone, as if they’d never been there.
I was back in my head in an instant and could tell that no time had passed at all. It was a strange sensation to seemingly have lived a few minutes that passed by in the blink of an eye to everyone else.
My excitement of discovering the hidden message was soon replaced by nagging that I should return to my seat. It was like those feelings I got just before something bad happened.
And all I could think was, Why this train? Why MY train?
It was bad enough I couldn’t get any rest at home. Why couldn’t they leave me alone while I was travelling? I had really looked forward to the break. Why did trouble have to pick on me all the time?
I followed my impulse and returned to my seat. Something was going to happen there, and I wanted to find out what.
The car was still pretty empty when I returned. There were four people in the whole thing. A middle-aged man dressed in a business suit, lay sleeping in one of the seats, his head thumping against the window in sync with the movement of the train. Two women sat next to each other in the center of the car, chatting with southern accents about their weekend trip to Manhattan and all the sights they would see. And another woman sat, just staring at the darkening sky outside her window.
Nothing was amiss. Maybe my feeling had been wrong this time.
But no. As the moments passed, my sense of foreboding grew more intense. I shifted in my seat, agitated now, trying to pinpoint exactly where this danger was coming from. My head spun around as if something unseen was behind me. Each time, the unseen thing wasn’t there.
I reached out with my senses and attached myself to every mind in the car to see what they were all feeling, if any of them had the same strange feeling I did. I found the strangest thing: there were five minds in the car. I quickly looked around counted again, just to make sure. Other than myself, there were only four other people here. So, where was this fifth mind?
Does she see me? I heard from the elusive mind. She shouldn’t be able to see me.
Another super? On this train? I thought to myself. No. Impossible. They just have to be hiding.
She’s looking right at me, the mind said again. I wasn’t looking at anyone, though. Don’t move a muscle.
While my attention was focused on the seemingly invisible person, another person entered. I didn’t notice at first, but the door slammed shut with such force, that it grabbed all our attention. Even the sleeping man woke with a jolt.
It was a young guy, maybe eighteen, dressed in a long tan coat. His hair was short and spiked up, like he’d applied way too much gel that morning. He had a scraggly looking goatee, not at all trimmed like Quinn’s was. His jeans were torn and dirty, like they hadn’t been cleaned in a while, but his T-shirt looked pretty much brand new, white with a silhouetted guitar smack in the center.
In an instant, I knew he was the source of my apprehension. It wasn’t that cold of a day, so he had no reason to be wearing a heavy trenchcoat. He was probably hiding something underneath.
A weapon?
Just as I contemplated rushing toward the guy and holding him in a mental grip, the door at the opposite end of the car slammed shut, and the exact same guy stood there too.
Twins? No, it can’t be. Even Lance and Kyle, though I couldn’t tell them apart, had their differences. These two were exactly the same in every way, right down to the identical holes in their pants.
“Hello, everyone,” they shouted in unison.
Everyone turned back and forth eyeing the two young men. I had no idea what to do, so I sat, mesmerized, like everyone else.
Once they were sure they had everyone’s attention, the two men charged at each other. Sprinting down the length of the car they smacked into one another in the dead center. For a second, it looked as if the two bodies were going to merge into one, but at that moment, they disappeared. Vanished, as if they weren’t there.
“What the Hell?” I shouted. I don’t think anyone heard me. Their eyes were all glued to the spot the boys had vanished, and expletives were escaping their own mouths.
At least I know everyone saw the same thing I just did.
I sprang from my seat and ran to the spot the two guys collided – nothing there. Not a mark, not an imprint – nothing. I reached out to try and sense the mind I had before. Just as I thought I had it, I was interrupted.
“My bag’s gone!” one of the ladies that had been chatting earlier shouted. “Someone’s stolen my bag!”
“Mine too!” the lady at the front of the car yelled.
Everyone else looked around the car. All their bags were missing. I looked above my seat in the overhead rack – mine was gone too. There was really nothing of value in my bag, except my grandfather’s journal. No way I was letting that go.
I reached out to sense that mind again. I found it quickly, escaping out the back of the car, heading for the rear of the train. There were two of them now, excited about their most recent score. The door to the car opened and slammed shut, seemingly by itself.
I knew better.
I followed.
They’d be sorry when I caught up with them. That was for sure.
I ran through the next car, in pursuit of the invisible cretins. They weren’t going to get away. I ignored the stares from the people trying to enjoy their leisurely trip. None of them suspected I was chasing after someone. Why should they? After all, all they saw was an incredibly agitated young girl charging through the car.
The door at the back of the car slammed shut just as I reached it. They were only a few steps ahead of me. I yanked the door open and practically jumped the space between the two cars, hitting the next door just as it shut on me.
I cried out as my left arm was crushed between my body and the door. I opened the door with my other hand, and scrambled through the food car. I needed to catch them, whoever they were.
“No running!” the woman behind the snack counter shouted as I passed.
“Sorry!” I shouted back, but didn’t break my stride. I was going to catch the thieves, even if it killed me.
The next car was nearly empty. Just a woman and her son sat there, both shocked when I sprinted through the car. Ahead, the rear door opened and closed again about five seconds before I reached it.
She’s still following us! I heard the voice in my head.
Just keep moving! a more forceful voice told the first. We’ll lose her.
But they’d reached the last car. There wasn’t any place for them to go. I pulled the door open and followed them in. The car was completely empty. Completely empty that is, except for the couple of criminals somewhere inside with me.
“I know you’re in here,” I said. I didn’t move away from the door, in case they decided to slip past me. “I just want my bag back. Don’t make me find you.”
She’s bluffing, one of them thought.
“I’m not bluffing,” I said out loud. “I’ll find you eventually.”
That threw them off balance. One of them, at least, wondered how I knew what they were thinking.
“Fine, if you won’t come out.” I let the half-threat hang in the air. Then I closed my eyes and sent tendrils of thought out into the car. It wouldn’t take me long to locate them.
Their heads pinged on my mental radar in seconds: Third row, left side. That was just too easy.
I walked up the aisle, pretending to still be looking for them. Two steps, three, my head turning back and forth as if they were still eluding me. Then I reached the seats they were sitting in. Their apprehension leaked from them like a rusty old faucet.
“Come out, come out,” I began, in the sing-song way a first grader might, “wherever you – ARE!”
On the last word, I lashed out with my left arm – which, because of slamming it earlier, hurt more then you could possibly imagine – and grabbed one of them by their invisible throat. Anyone watching me would have thought me a mad woman, wrestling with nothing but air, but the warm skin pulsed under my fingertips. I could hear and smell the ragged breath issuing from the mouth.
A second later, a young woman materialized, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping open, in search of the air I wouldn’t allow into her. Her hair was short, like mine, but it had streaks of pink and purple running through it. Her clothing matched her hair – pink shirt, purple skirt, black sneakers and gloves on her hands. She was about the same age as the guy I’d seen earlier in the car.
He suddenly materialized next to her in the seat—along with all five bags they’d stolen. “Let her go!” he shouted.
“Give me back the bags.”
She was really rasping now. Her cheeks had turned a deep red. It wouldn’t be too much longer until she passed out. I knew that, and he knew that too.
He looked between me and the girl, obviously trying to decide what to do.
“Johnny,” the girl wheezed. “Help.”
Watching the girl, he grabbed my bag and held it out for me. I reached out to take it.
I’d felt the deception a second before it happened. A knee slammed me in the stomach. I doubled over, releasing the girl from my grip. Hunched, I saw the guy – Johnny, apparently –standing over me. Actually, I saw two of him standing over me, both looking on with hideous smiles.
One of them looked over at the girl, concern on his face, while the other continued looking down at me. She was heaving in her seat. The one not hovering punched my left shoulder hard with both fist. Stars filled my vision as pain shot through my nervous system. He’d known the exact place to hit me.
Then he disappeared. I couldn’t tell if it was the pain I was feeling, but it appeared that he merged with the other Johnny, still keeping an eye on the girl.
“Gina,” he said. “Come on, we have to go.”
He lifted her and ran out of the car, disappearing just as they reached the door.
Damn. They got away. Invisible, they could hide anywhere on the train.
But then, I noticed, they’d left all the bags behind. That was good, at least. Now, I could return them to their owners. It might not have been the most successful mission, but it was still successful.
I decided not to chase them. I doubted they would be back to bother me, or anyone else, for that matter. So I rose to my feet, feeling better now that the pain in my arm had passed, and gathered up all the bags.
Just as I was about to heave them all onto my good shoulder and drag them back to my car, a voice called, “There she is!”
Oh crap. I must have had about the guiltiest look on my face as I spun toward the voice. It was one of the ladies from the car I’d been sitting in. She was pointing directly at me, and already approaching me was a police officer, his hand already on the gun sticking out of his holster.
“No, not me,” I stammered. “They did it. I was just getting them back.” Even though it was true, it sounded like the lamest excuse ever. I wouldn’t have believed it.
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” the officer said.
Then he put my hands behind my back, handcuffed me, and read me my rights.
In a car near the front of the train, I could hear the mental laughter of a boy and girl who’d gotten away scot-free.
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