Chapter 3
Studying Abroad
Reluctantly, I allowed my former mentor to pass through the threshold. I gave serious thought to manipulating my father into making him leave, or call the cops, but Quinn could easily use his power to reverse it anyway. That was a war I wasn’t ready to fight – yet.
So, I brought him into my living room, plopping on the sofa, doing nothing to hide my frustration and annoyance with him.
I pressed the small button on my watch. This would send a signal to Abby and let her know I was in trouble. With any luck, she’d show up with an entire team and arrest Quinn on the spot. Maybe she’d stick him into a stasis chamber like she had with so many others she considered “too dangerous.”
I was pretty sure I’d done it covertly, but Quinn gave me a knowing glance before he said, “I know you’re angry with me. And I know I need to earn your trust again.”
“Really? You’re kidding!”
“Your usual wit is not at all helpful at this time.”
“I know what you are, and I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I’m going to find out, and I’m going to stop you.”
“Stop being so dramatic.” He waved a hand at me. Without his facial hair, he really did look younger, really no older than Abby, and she was only in her early twenties – so she claimed anyway.
“Christine, you don’t know the whole story about me. But if you would allow me to explain, I will tell you what Ms. Davidson and your grandfather can’t.”
I was going to tell him Grandpa Carpenter hadn’t told me anything. As a matter of fact the only time I mentioned Quinn’s name, he turned pale and left the room. That was when I knew the man before me was no good.
I nodded for him to go on. Better to let him keep talking until Abby got there.
“Yes, my name is really Quintus. I don’t have a last name, because I was never truly born.”
How was it possible? The look of utter bafflement on my face must have told Quinn he needed to explain further.
“I am a product of good, old fashioned, German ingenuity. I was engineered, created in a tube, bred for the sole purpose of destroying the Allied forces in World War II.”
It was beginning to dawn on me, but even as my mind was still trying to comprehend what he was saying, he continued.
“I’m a clone. One of five. Actually, the last of five—hence the name.”
“Really? So your name is ‘Five’?”
“Technically, I suppose. Primus, Secundus, Tertius, and Quartus were all created before me.”
“What happened to them?” I couldn’t believe he was sucking me in, and so fast. At least it would keep him talking.
“Killed during the war,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m the last of my brothers, mostly because of… your grandather’s platoon.”
No wonder I had trouble mentioning his name to my grandfather. I knew he’d been the cause. Now I knew why. If my grandfather knew about Quinn, he might decide to come after him.
“Why do you think I never told you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I shot back in response. “You’re still a Nazi, and you still have some hidden agenda. Plus disappearing and having Jayson Johnson morph into you to take your place. Everything is just… wrong.”
“I’m sure it all looks very wrong to your untrained, teenage mind. But I assure you, there is a logical explanation for the whole thing.”
“So, let’s hear it.”
He grinned at my apparent rudeness. “Impetuous as ever, I see. You think all that matters in life is yourself. I assure you this is not the case. Patience, Christine, and you will get the answers you so desperately desire.”
“I’m not playing your stupid games, Quinn. Either answer my questions, or I’m gonna blow the whistle on this whole thing.”
“Christine,” he said as calm as ever, “Please don’t make threats you aren’t prepared to follow through on.”
He stared at me a moment, and I back at him. Both of us daring the other to blink first, as if that would settle things. It wouldn’t. What I didn’t realize was Quinn was using the moment to assess me—deciding whether or not to call my bluff.
The coffee table and television shook as I mentally grabbed hold of them. In response, the lamp from the end table rose in the air. Quinn simply looked at me with a smile which said, “Don’t try it.”
We both blinked when my dad’s footsteps came down the stairs. He’d changed out of his suit and into a Steelers T-Shirt and sweat pants. We’d replaced the furniture when we’d heard him and he didn’t have a clue there was any tension between us, or how dangerously close he’d come to having a gaping crater where his living room used to be.
“Can I offer you something to drink, Mr…”
“Quinn,” the villain finished, turning his head only slightly to keep an eye on me. As if I was going to attack with my father standing two feet away. “And, no thank you. I’m on a very special diet.”
My dad’s eyebrow arched, and he gave me a look, all the while thinking, This guy’s crazy. Special diet. He rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen.
If only he knew Quinn could hear everything.
“Now, where were we?” Quinn asked, looking amused. “Oh, right. You were accusing me of being a Nazi, and then some idle threat of telling on me. That about right?”
I nodded.
“As I’ve already explained, yes, I was in the German army during the war. But, it was also I who ended the war, and allowed the Allies to invade Berlin.” He quickly held up a hand, silencing my protest before I even got it started. “An anonymous message was sent to Eisenhower, Chruchill and Stalin on April 28th, telling them when and where to attack. That message came from me. Just before ground troops invaded, as planes flew overhead, dropping bombs left and right, turning Berlin into rubble, I located and entered Hitler’s secret bunker and killed him.”
He raised his hand again, but this time he couldn’t silence me. “Hitler killed himself, when he knew he was going to lose.”
“Hitler was a sociopath and a megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur. The man nearly took control of as much territory as the Roman Empire in a fraction of the time. He nearly succeeded in exterminating an entire race of people. Do you really believe a man deluded enough to do all that could ever take his own life?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. He made a good point, but it was so hard believing something when you were taught something completely different for years. History had Hitler putting a bullet in his own head, yet Quinn’s argument sounded perfectly logical. I didn’t know what to believe.
“I didn’t think so,” he said when it was clear I wasn’t going to respond. “The bullet came from Hitler’s gun and it was fired by Hitler’s hand. But there was someone pulling his strings.” He pointed to himself, as if I couldn’t figure out who he was talking about.
“I timed his apparent suicide with the invasion to throw German Command into turmoil. Not to sound too full of myself, but it was quite a brilliant plan.”
That was all well and good, if it was at all true, except for one thing. “But why would you suddenly—” I couldn’t find the right words to use. My mind drew a complete blank.
“Betray my country?” he finished. Then he sighed rubbing the bridge of his nose like he did when I asked something completely inane. “If you had paid attention, you’d understand it was never really my country. They used me as a weapon. But sometimes a weapon backfires and harms the wielder.”
“Nice metaphor,” I said.
“I thought so. To add to why I turned on my creators, let’s just say I didn’t agree with their whole idea of the ‘Master Race’.”
“Riiiiight.” If he could have been any less convincing with his response, I might have laughed in his face. However, he was just convincing enough to warrant a scowl and an angst riddled sigh.
“What would you do if you were told you needed to exterminate… let’s start with five-hundred people? Could you do it?”
I shook my head.
“What if they told you your country would be destroyed if you didn’t? Could you then?”
Again, my head shook.
“Really? You’d be able to trade five-hundred lives for hundreds of thousands, even millions?”
When he put it that way, my refusal sounded a lot worse. But it didn’t matter, no matter what he said, no matter how high that number went, my answer would always be the same.
“I don’t kill people.”
“Not even one? Not even to save a life?”
“No. Not even then.”
“Very noble of you.” He scratched his hairless chin. “I wonder what happened to Thomas Fulton then.”
I wanted so badly to make his head explode. And although the coffee table between us vibrated again, threatening to throw itself upon Quinn, I restrained myself.
“How dare you use that against me,” I growled, barely containing my rage. “You know what I went through after that night, and you know it’s because of what I did to Tommy I won’t ever kill anyone again.”
“I’m sorry,” said Quinn. He didn’t look at all apologetic. “I won’t bring it up again.” He looked away from me then, as if he were seeing a distant memory he wished he could forget. “My number was 20,000. They wanted me to murder 20,000 innocent people before I was able to say ‘no’.”
There was no response to that last statement. I could honestly not believe it. He could have been telling the truth, but he could just as easily be lying. It was impossible to tell. I wished I could read his mind.
“Where have you been?” I asked instead. I figured changing the subject would be better than continuing with the current line of conversation. “For the last couple of months, I mean.”
Any revelation he may have been having was instantly washed away by my question. He snapped his head back toward me and a slight smile returned to his lips, though the pain he was feeling was still apparent in his eyes. “I dropped off the radar for a while and got back to doing some research. In the two months I’ve been gone, I did some travelling and managed to find something very special.”
He was trying to draw me in again. I couldn’t let him suck me in. He was a villain—the worst of the worst. If I let him play me, I would lose.
I sighed. I’d probably lost the second Quinn stepped through my door. “What did you find?” It would be my own morbid curiosity that would be my downfall.
“First, answer this for me,” he responded. “Did you find something in Camp Hero when you were there? Something maybe a bit insignificant, yet special at the same time.”
My thoughts immediately went to the spearhead I’d found in that old abandoned laboratory. Alone, the object was nothing special. However, something about it made me hold onto it. When I’d shown it to Grandpa Carpenter, he said he thought it might have been the Spear of Destiny, the spear that had spilled Christ’s blood while he hung on the cross. It was something they were after during the war, but never found.
I wasn’t at all compelled to tell Quinn any of this, of course. After all, he was about as trustworthy as a crack addict who claimed they were clean.
“No,” I lied. “We just found the M.H.D.A. facility and freed all the prisoners.”
“I see,” he said, leaning back in the chair steepling his hands in front of his face. He eyed me quizzically, and I knew he was checking my head to make sure I was telling the truth. I hoped my mental barriers were strong enough to hold him back.
Fortunately, I was saved by the doorbell. His concentration broke as we both jerked our heads toward the door. The fact I could sense no one on the other side told me I had been rescued. Abby was here, thought inhibitor and all.
In my head, I did a little victory dance. I did my best not to show any emotion. I’m pretty sure I failed since Quinn’s gaze shifted between me and the door as he smiled. “I guess the cavalry’s arrived. Just in time, I imagine.”
I didn’t move. The doorbell rang again.
“Christine, can you get that?” my dad called from the kitchen.
Only at my father’s prompt did I find the courage to rise and go to the door. As predicted, when I opened it, Abby stood on the other side.
“Miss Carpenter,” she said in an overly formal tone, even for the counselor she was pretending to be.
“Oh, Miss Davidson,” I said, acting surprised – Quinn didn’t buy it. “Won’t you come in?”
“Christine, who is it?” my father yelled from the other room again.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. He wasn’t going to be happy someone else from my school was here. “Ms. Davidson, my counselor.”
Why do I feel like I’m about to be ambushed? he thought.
“Can you come in here for a moment?”
Great. Now I’m gonna get yelled at for no reason. I trudged to the kitchen, glancing back at Abby and Quinn and praying they could be left alone for a minute without destroying my house.
As I’d imagined, my father sat at the table with a scowl on his face. “Do you want to explain why two of your teachers are sitting in my living room?” He didn’t give me a chance to answer before adding, “What’s going on? And I want the truth.”
How I wished I could grant his request, but the truth wasn’t an option. “I don’t know,” I answered.
“If I find out you’re lying to me–” He let his voice trail off – the threat implied. He’d ground me again.
“Dad, I seriously have no idea what Mr. Quinn and Ms. Davidson are doing here. But I promise, I didn’t do anything wrong. And my report card will be the best one all year.”
Despite the fact that what I said was 90% true, he still didn’t believe me. I didn’t need my mind reading power to figure that out.
For a few minutes I stood, deadlocked with my father, trying my best not to lose my temper, while he tried his best to prove I was being dishonest. Thankfully, the front door opened again and we both knew my mother had finally returned home.
“Hello,” she said, confusion wafting with her voice. She was still looking over her shoulder at the strange people as she came into the kitchen.
“Who–” she began.
Dad didn’t even let her finish the question. “A couple of teachers from the high school.”
“What are they doing here?”
“I don’t know,” he said, giving me the evil-eye. “Our daughter’s lips are sealed.”
“I told you,” I said, at last raising my voice in the hope my point would get across, “I have no clue why they’re here. Why don’t you believe me?” It was infuriating. Just because a teacher comes to our house, I was being treated like a criminal.
“Christine, we aren’t saying we don’t believe you,” my mom said, trying to be diplomatic. She didn’t believe me either, but I didn’t think it was the best time to argue the point.
“Why don’t we go in there and find out what they want?” she asked, motioning me to take the lead.
I walked back into the living room, feeling like an inmate walking the last mile. My parents acted like the guards escorting me to the gas chamber. Both of them were very interested in what these two invaders had to say.
Quinn and Abby sat as if they’d been having the most pleasant conversation. Only I knew how much the pair wanted to tear each other apart.
Abby stood as my parents approached and reached out to shake hands. “Abby Davidson, I’ve gotten to know Christine very well over the last few months.”
Of course she had. She’d only interrogated me about a hundred times before finally offering me a job. A job, I might add, I hadn’t been paid for yet.
Quinn was next. He introduced himself, shaking hands with both parents. After all the formalities were done, we all sat down. There was hardly a pause before Quinn started speaking.
“I know you’re wondering why we’re here,” he mentioned. “Well, a few months ago, Thomas Jefferson High School was given the opportunity to send our students on a historical immersion trip to Italy this summer—all expenses paid.”
I had to stop myself from standing and shouting that Quinn was a liar and there was no such trip. But, my parents couldn’t know what was really happening and if I called Quinn out, they would know everything.
“Only being allowed to send two of our students, the school decided to hold a contest. Every student was given the opportunity to write an essay stating why they should be selected for this sensational opportunity. Your daughter, Christine, wrote a wonderful essay about visiting Europe and seeing the places her grandfather set foot during World War II. It really captured our interest because it was so personal, not like the generic papers many of the other students turned in.”
Wow! Quinn really could spin a lie and make it sound true. He’d totally taken my parents in and had them hanging on his every word – though to be fair, he could have been using his powers to cause that. My only real concern was discovering what Quinn was up to, and stopping him.
“As I said, two students were selected for this excursion, a freshman named Jayson Johnson, and your daughter.”
Both my parents looked at me. The way their brows slanted you would think Quinn had told them I’d been caught shoplifting. Leave it to my parents to be upset about something positive—even if it was a sham.
“Why didn’t you tell us about this?” my father practically snarled.
“I don’t know,” I said quickly, moving to the defensive. “I forgot, I guess.”
“Forgot?” my mother added to the attack. “How do you forget something like this?”
“Mom, I didn’t even know I won,” I said, thinking fast to keep up with Quinn’s game. “I wrote the stupid thing back in February. How am I supposed to remember stuff like that?”
“We only made our final decisions this afternoon, and with only one day left for the school year,” Quinn added, “we thought it prudent to notify the families as soon as possible. Hence why we are here tonight, and why we waited to have you both here.”
I half expected my parents to immediately say I couldn’t go and send Quinn on his way, but when I glanced over at them, they were giving each other a look saying they should discuss it. I had to kill that discussion before it started. I wanted no part of Quinn’s scheme.
“I can’t go,” I pretended to talk to Quinn, though I looked at my parents as I spoke. “My little brother needs to be watched while my parents work.”
“She’s right,” my mother agreed, glancing in my direction again. “We’d have no one to watch Conner, and I was planning on taking extra shifts when school ended to make some extra money.”
Internally, I breathed a sigh of relief. There was no way Quinn could convince my parents now.
My relief was cut off at the head, however, when Abby, who’d been surprisingly silent during the conversation, finally spoke up. “I think this is something you should take more time to think about Mrs. Carpenter. This is a great opportunity for Christine to expand her horizons, and learn who she really is. Being Christine’s counselor, I can tell you she would greatly benefit from an experience like this.”
Stunned into silence, I could only gawk at the woman. She was supposed to oppose Quinn, not agree with him – save me from the maniac, not send me into danger. I began to regret calling her in.
My father’s skin turned a darker shade of pink as blood furiously pumped into his cheeks. “Neither of you have actually said what this experience is. How long will she be gone? What will she be doing? How will we stay in contact? You can’t honestly expect us to agree to anything until we have all the information.”
Abby smiled, and in that counselor-like demeanor she used when trying to diffuse a situation, she turned to Quinn. “I think I’m going to have to defer to my colleague for those details.”
Yeah, she had to “defer” because she had about as much information on the trip as I did – which was none at all.
If Quinn was bothered at all by Abby’s sudden compliance, he didn’t show it. As a matter of fact, he acted as if the whole thing were planned.
Quinn cleared his throat, I think more to get my attention than anything else. “This will be a four week trip through Italy. We would leave July 1st and return on the 28th. While we’re there, Christine will be helping conduct research at various sites around the country, learning about the history of Rome from all the way back before the time of Christ.
“We will also be touring many historical sites, like the Roman Coliseum and the city of Pompeii. Christine will be immersed first-hand into another culture. I promise, this is a once-in-a-lifetime educational opportunity for your daughter.”
“July 1st? my father asked. “That’s less than two weeks away.”
“I know this is a major decision, and these usually take some time,” Quinn said. “But I’m afraid we’ll need an answer tonight.”
My mother looked at my father. An almost saddened expression covered her face. “I don’t know if we can,” she said. “I need to work.”
“Well,” my father responded, his cheeks turning red, the feeling of pleasant embarrassment shot from him, “I was going to tell you when you got home, but our guests distracted me.” The grin he’d been wearing when he’d arrived home returned. “I got the Johnson and Wales account today. It’s literally a million dollar account. I can pay my brother back the money he loaned me, and you don’t need to work anymore.”
My mom looked as if she were torn between jumping up and hugging my dad and wanting to cry. After my dad’s words sunk in, she regained her senses enough to say, “I’m not sure I should just up and quit my job, dear. We can still use the extra money.”
I would have expected my father to be taken aback by the statement—I certainly was. My mother didn’t want to work, but felt obligated to so my father could start his new business. For her to suggest she keep working when she had a way out was a strange occurrence. However, my dad acted like he suspected my mother would act this way.
“We could always get my parents to stay with us and watch Conner while Christine’s gone.”
For a half-second I wondered why my dad was advocating for me to go on this trip. He should have been the first in the line of opposition. All it took was once glance in Quinn’s direction to know what was going on.
I had to do something before Quinn manipulated my parents into thinking my going to Europe was a good idea.
“Would you guys stop talking about me like I’m not sitting right here?” I asked indignantly. “None of you have even asked my opinion. But I’ll tell you, I don’t want to go.”
It didn’t work.
“Christine, don’t you have a project to finish for Mr. Murray’s class?” Quinn asked.
I was going to shout at him and say I’d finished it, but for some reason, I was compelled to tell the truth. “Yes,” I answered in a rather meek voice.
“Don’t you think you should go do it?” asked my father.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw things. I wanted to decapitate Quinn and use his severed head as a soccer ball. However, losing my temper would get my nowhere, so I stood, stamped my foot and turned in a huff.
I can’t believe they just got rid of you like that, the voice said in a mostly mocking tone.
As I was going out of earshot, I heard Abby interject, “This is what Christine always does. She never wants to try anything new. We need to do something to get Christine out of her shell.”
I stopped midway up the stairs, fuming. My cheeks were on fire and I gave serious consideration to charging back down the stairs and giving all four adults a piece of my mind. Either fortunately or unfortunately my self-control once again kicked in and I simply stood for a moment longer as Abby continued.
“The barrier Christine has created needs to be broken, and an extended trip away from her family, away from her friends, would be perfect for doing so. She will have the opportunity to do something important while interacting with other students from around the world.”
There was a pause in the conversation, and I could still feel some apprehension from my mother. My father had been completely taken in though and was ready to sign on the dotted line.
“In my opinion, if we don’t do something with Christine soon, this reclusive behavior will continue well into adulthood.”
The really sad part of all this was, I wasn’t at all an introvert like Abby was convincing my parents of. I mean, yeah, I wasn’t a member of any sports team, and I had no interest in joining any clubs, and I only had a few close-knit friends but… Okay, I guess I was a bit of an introvert. But that didn’t mean it was a problem in need of fixing.
It didn’t take too much more talking before my dad said, “I suppose there’s a consent form you need us to sign.”
And with those words, I knew my fate was sealed. I sighed. I was going to Europe and be part of whatever sinister plan Quinn had in mind for me.
Chapter 4
Confrontations
The effort I put forth on my poster was a little lackluster. I designed a sign for the bus boycotts, but I could have only spent twenty minutes on it and it was reflected in the quality. I was so disappointed in myself.
I couldn’t keep my mind off of Quinn, Abby and this insane trip to Italy I was apparently being forced to go on “for my own good.” Don’t get me wrong, I really wanted to go to Italy, but the circumstances bothered me.
I couldn’t help but wonder if the spear had something to do with all of this. He’d asked me about it right before Abby came in, and I was sure he’d have revealed everything to me if she’d waited two more minutes to arrive.
For most of the night, I twirled the rusted piece of metal in my hands, hoping the strange artifact might share some long-forgotten secret with me. It was stupid to think the spear knew what Quinn wanted, but the irrational part of my brain continued to press the matter anyway.
I barely slept, but thankfully it was the last day of school, so I didn’t have to be completely alert.
Leaving my house before my mother even woke to feed Conner, I made my way to school as the sun was coming up. I was going to have it out with the science teacher and the counselor. Both of them had some explaining to do. Even if it killed me, I would make them spill their secrets.
I walked through the front door of the school, lame poster in hand, and realized how foolish I was. My footsteps echoed down the empty corridors. I was alone in the building. Now, I’d have to wait. But I was so antsy to get the confrontations over with I couldn’t sit still. For a half hour, I walked back and forth between Quinn’s classroom and Abby’s office, pacing the long, vacant halls expecting one of them to arrive.
Unfortunately, neither of them showed in the thirty minutes, and I was already fatigued. My anger apparently walked off, and other students arriving, I decided to go to Mrs. Blank’s classroom. She at least had arrived.
She was surprised to see me, to say the least. Shocked was more like it. School still didn’t start for another twenty minutes and there I was, intruding on her quiet time. “You’re here early,” she muttered, turning away from her email. She thought I was there to discuss my grade.
“Sorry, Mrs. Blank. Just eager to get the last day over I guess.” I gave her a half-smile and set my things down at my desk. “I’ll leave you alone.”
Surprised as she was for me to enter, she was even more so when I left. Strange girl, she thought as I exited back into the hallway.
I decided to give it one more try to see if my two nemeses had arrived yet. The worst that could happen would be they weren’t there and I’d spend some extra time with my math teacher. Quinn’s room was still locked and his light was out. Cursing, I walked to the guidance office. I hated to think I’d wasted my whole morning and wouldn’t get the chance to at least verbally assault one of them.
The door was unlocked. At least that meant someone was in the office. I creaked the door open and peaked my head inside. On first inspection the room looked empty, but the sound of papers rustling came from one of the cubicles. The emptiness of the thoughts in the room told me all I needed to know.
My resolve returning, I stepped into the room and marched straight to the cubicle.
It was Abby.
“What the hell was that all about last night? I thought you were on my side!”
She tore her gaze from the papers she’d been perusing. “And how did I know I’d be seeing you this morning?” Her thoughts were less than amused, despite the mischievous smile she sent in my direction.
I wasn’t amused either. “Answer the question.”
The smile wavered. For a split-second she looked as tired as I felt. But Abby, never one to show how she really felt about anything, quickly brought the grin back. “Sit down, Christine.”
I didn’t move.
“Fine. Stand for all I care.” She waved an agitated hand in the air. “Don’t bother thinking that maybe I have more knowledge of the situation than you. You might have telepathy, but you still know very little about how people think.”
“Then why don’t you explain it to me.” I hissed the words at her.
She shook her head. “Adjust the attitude, girl. It’s unbecoming of an Agent to let her emotions out so freely.”
“You’re the one who hired me, remember?” I spat. “Speaking of which, when am I getting paid?”
This time she smiled, amused. The tension had been broken, but only for a moment. “Christine, please sit.”
“No. Explain.”
“If you were any normal Agent, I’d have booted you out on your ass about ten times by now. This level of insubordination to a superior officer is—”
I cut her off. “Why are you avoiding my question? I might not know much about how people think, but I can tell when they’re trying to change the subject.”
“As your superior, I don’t have to explain—”
“Yes, you do. This is my life we’re talking about, and I can either be cooperative or not. I have no intention of helping Quinn out on this mission of his. However, the question still remains—what the hell happened last night? Are you working with him?”
She took in a long, deep breath and slumped back in her chair. She truly appeared to be beyond exhaustion. “Christine, please—” She stopped, noticing the frown on my face telling her I was never going to sit in that chair. She sat up and leaned her elbows on the desk. “Fine. Christine, have you ever watched a spy movie? You know, James Bond or something like that?”
One of my eyebrows crooked at the question. Why would she ask me something like that? “No,” I responded.
She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I’m going to order Ethan to sit you down and watch a couple of them then.” She thought for a second before continuing. “Sometimes when James Bond is trying to infiltrate the enemy and learn more about them, he has to pretend to cooperate. Only when he’s inside can he gain any valuable information.”
At least that made sense. I had to admit that much at least. It didn’t change the fact she was using me as a pawn in this little info gathering game of hers. “Why me, though? I don’t think I’m qualified enough to—”
“You are the only one who can. For some reason, you’re important to Quintus. He didn’t ask for any other member of your team. Just you.”
Why? The voice in my head asked. Why only me?
I wasn’t any more special than the others. Quinn wanted me for something specific, but what? My breathing grew heavy. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do we,” admitted Abby. “As far as we know, you share all of his powers, so he can’t need you to fill in any of his gaps.”
“And Ethan, Savanah, Peter?” I asked, knowing Abby would understand the full question.
“Calm down, Christine.” Her voice was soothing. “You’re not going in alone. I’m already taking measures so your team will be there if you need them.”
“That’s a relief.”
“You can’t tell them yet. If Quinn reads their minds, he’ll know what we’re up to. Make sure you don’t let anything slip.”
I nodded. It was unfortunate, but I’d become really good over this last school year at keeping secrets from my friends. First about my powers, and then about the horrific things I’d found out about Quinn since going to Camp Hero. It was too dangerous letting them know anything when Quinn could pluck information right out of their heads.
“That still doesn’t answer, why he picked me… and Jayson.” I thought about Jayson’s power. He could turn himself into anyone he wished. Between us, we had mind control, and morphing. What could Quinn have planned that would require those two skills?
“We believe there are other members of this team Quinn is putting together. But as of yet, we haven’t been able to figure out who. We do, however, know he’s been recruiting for the last couple of months.”
“Yeah, he told me last night he’d travelled virtually around the world. But he made it sound like he was searching for some-thing, not some-one.”
“He was doing that as well. He spent a great deal of time in Northern Italy. But we still don’t know for what purpose.”
“You’ve been following him the whole time? And you didn’t let me know?” If that weren’t bad enough, she’d had him followed for months and she couldn’t figure out anything about him.
“Every time we got close, he managed to give us the slip,” she explained. “It’s hard to perform surveillance on someone who can hear the thoughts of the stakeout team.”
“Then have them wear those thought inhibitor things.” I motioned behind my ear so she’d know what I was talking about.
“Those aren’t foolproof either. Think about Christine, how do you know when I’m around?”
I thought for a second. I could sense when Abby was coming even when she was wearing the inhibitor. My mouth spewed the words before I’d even thought of them. “Because I can’t sense anything. It creates a void, and that’s what I feel.”
“Now add nearly 70 years experience on top of that,” she added.
Wow. It had to be nearly impossible to follow Quinn around. Was that why Abby thought I was so valuable? Because I was the only one who stood a chance of being in his midst without him being able to sense any duplicity? Was I the only person capable of discovering and passing along data on the man?
An expression of comprehension must have crossed my face, because the next thing I knew, Abby was speaking. “Now do you understand why it is so important you cooperate with him?”
I nodded, my jaw slack and unable to form words.
“Sit down, please.”
I sat.
“Thank you.” The politeness of her words was cancelled out by the way she rolled her eyes. “Now, we have two weeks to prepare you. The first thing we need to do is figure out where he plans on taking you, and what he plans on doing.”
“I might have an idea.” I spoke before I could stop myself. I’d been pondering it all night, but couldn’t come up with any answer. Even though I’d never said anything to Abby about the spear, now seemed the best time to do so. After all, it couldn’t hurt to have a second brain mulling over the thoughts and coming up with another hypothesis. “Remember how Quinn gave me that clue about Montauk Point, to lead me to Camp Hero?”
“Yes,” she said. Even with the inhibitor on I could feel her frustration. That clue had almost made her give up gathering information on Quinn. He’d been crafty, giving me a note he knew only I would be able to read.
“Well, when we were at Camp Hero, I found an object. An old spearhead. When I showed it to my grandfather, he said he thought it might be the Spear of Destiny. And when I’m near it, the spear… I don’t know… it’s like it talks to me.” I paused, trying to gauge some reaction from Abby. As usual, her expression was unreadable. “I think Quinn sent me there specifically so I could retrieve the spear. He even hinted at it last night, but you came in before he said anything specific.”
“And you think he might be looking for something similar in Italy?”
“Yeah.” The whole thing sounded so stupid. Why would Quinn be after some old rusted piece of metal, or some other artifact that was thousands of years old? It didn’t make sense. “I guess.” The words came out weakly.
She leaned back in her chair and stared at the files in front of her for what seemed like an hour. She must have been thinking about what I’d told her, trying to see if there was any plausibility in the words. The fact she didn’t seem surprised about the spear meant she knew something about it.
The warning bell rang, telling me I only had five minutes to get back to math class before I was late. It also snapped Abby out of her daze.
“I’m going to look into it. In the meantime, see what you can dig up with Quinn. Report back anything you can find out from him.”
And like that, the conversation was over. I rose and walked out of the counselor’s office. When I stepped into the hallway once again, it was filled with students, none of which were at all eager to get to class. Thoughts of, Last day, and, Thank God summer’s here, filled the corridor. I on the other hand, felt no such enjoyment anymore. Like last summer, it appeared this one would be spent working. Albeit I wouldn’t be employed at a retail store for just above minimum wage, but I’d still be working.
I thought seriously about going immediately to confront Quinn, knowing the science teacher had to be in his room by then. But instead decided not to ruin my perfect attendance streak of the last couple months and meandered my way toward Mrs. Blank’s room.
Fate was not to be kind to me today, however. I was stopped in the hallway by Lance and Kyle, who motioned me over to them. We were about forty feet down the hall from Mr. Philmore’s office, and the principal was walking by. The twins’ eyes followed him as he came by and the two of them snickered.
“What did you do?” I groaned, already backing away from the pair.
“Just wait,” one said.
“You’re not going to want to miss this,” added the other.
Suddenly glued to the spot, I allowed my gaze to follow the principal, knowing he was the target of whatever prank Lance and Kyle had set up. He went to his office and fumbled with his keys at the door. Both twins interest piqued as their anticipation went to levels I didn’t think possible. As soon as Mr. Philmore creaked the door open, the pair pressed themselves up against the wall as much as possible. I did the same, not wanting to be the only one caught in the middle of hall when the fireworks blew.
I counted the seconds, with each one my feeling of fear grew more and more intense. When I reached two, my heart was racing. By the time I made five I thought I might burst from the sheer terror I felt—and I hadn’t even done anything wrong. By six, all hell broke loose.
First, Mr. Philmore stumbled backwards out of his office, papers flying all around him. He landed clear on his rear in the center of the hall. Next, several squirrels scurried into the hall, causing the few teachers and students left to scream and fling their belongings into the air. I was frozen, watching in both horror and amazement while trying to hold back the roaring laughter trying to break free of my throat.
How the two of them pulled this one off was beyond me. What it must have taken them to first capture the squirrels and then break into the principal’s office was much more than I would ever be willing to do to pull off any prank. The twins were definitely dedicated to their craft.
Even more astounding were the pair of raccoons that followed the frightened squirrels into the corridor. One of them scampered across Mr. Philmore’s chest in its hasty escape. His scream was so high pitched, I feared he’d break some glass.
“Time to go,” Lance or Kyle said.
“Yep. Let’s get to class,” said the other.
I made my escape as well, dodging running squirrels and raccoons as I navigated the hall. I stepped carefully over Mr. Philmore and glanced into his office as I past. It looked like a warzone. There were papers, torn and chewed, littering the entire office. The desk was in tatters as well, since it appeared the squirrels had used the wooden legs and edges to sharpen their teeth.
Kyle and Lance really needed to be congratulated on this one—if they didn’t get caught, that was.
I made it to first period right after the bell rang. Luckily it didn’t look like Mrs. Blank was interested in marking tardies today. We didn’t do much, but she gave us all candy and showed us our grades. I got an A in math for the first time in, like, forever!
After first period, I bolted from the room and navigated the crowded halls to chemistry. Mr. Jenkins looked incredibly happy because the year was coming to a close.
Two and a half months without these little— I refrain from adding the final word because it is totally inappropriate. I laughed as I walked by him, which caused him to stare intently at me for a second. It was such a comment which this man made when I’d first discovered my powers.
As I was walking in the door, I gazed down the hall to Quinn’s room. The door was open and the lights were on. Reaching out mentally, I sensed his presence. I breathed a deep sigh, knowing the decision was already made.
Putting my books down, I stepped back out of the class. “Mr. Jenkins, I’m going to talk to Mr. Quinn for a minute.”
He shook his head and his smile wavered for a moment. Then he waved his hand down the hall telling me to get out of his face.
I ignored him and strode toward my second confrontation of the day.
Quinn’s room was impeccably clean. For the first time all year, it wasn’t set up for some experiment. The man stood behind his desk, watching the door as if waiting for me. He probably was.
“You will tell me what’s going on and you’re will tell me now!” To emphasize the fact I wasn’t playing around, I mentally grabbed hold of his door and slammed it shut.
He turned toward the window, but said nothing.
Fine, you want to play games. Let’s play.
Looking at his desk, I saw his cup, the one he always drank coffee from. It was no ordinary coffee mug, it looked more like one of those old wine goblets you see in movies. Only this one definitely wasn’t made of gold. It appeared more like it was made of wood.
I mentally took hold of the cup and drew it toward my hand. The object flew across the room and into my hand. I readied myself to hurl the old and worn item at Quinn, but as soon as it touched my skin, I felt the strangest thing.
It spoke to me—just like the spear.
I couldn’t throw it. Instead, I lowered my arm and examined the rough surface of the cup. I was barely able to glance at it before it was whisked out of my hands and shot like a bullet across the room to the outstretched arm of Quinn.
If he could shoot lasers from his eyes to kill me, I’m positive he would have done so at that very moment. “Never touch this cup.”
I wasn’t even worried about his wraith. I was more concerned about the object in his hands. “What is that thing?”
The way he held it, checking it to make sure I hadn’t damaged it, told me more than I needed to know. That cup was worth more to Quinn than his life.
“This is very old and very fragile,” he said. “It shouldn’t be flung around in this manner.”
“It spoke to me,” I said, stopping myself before letting out it was in fact like the spear I’d found.
“And why does that surprise you, Ms. Carpenter? You’ve come across an object like this before.”
Even though I knew he was already wise to the situation, I still feigned ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb.” His eyes practically glowed red with rage. “I know you have the spearhead. I felt it in your home last night when I came in. Why you’d think you could hide something like that from me is beyond my comprehension.”
“Well, you haven’t been honest with me, so why should I be with you?” No matter how angry he got, there was no way he’d intimidate me into backing down.
He placed the cup back on his desk before stepping toward me. For a split second, I thought the man was going to attack. I backed away until I hit the wall. No attack came.
“No, I haven’t. And I think you know why.” His voice had an edge of anger in it, but still held onto the calmness it usually did. “I can’t have you passing information along to the Agent in our guidance department.”
“Even if I was passing information along to her, it shouldn’t matter. You could kill her with a thought.” It was a weak argument and we both knew it. So, I decided to try another tact. “Besides, since I’m apparently going on a trip with you, I think I deserve to know where we’re going and what we’re doing.”
He moved away again. Again, he said nothing.
“I know it has something to do with the spear and that cup of yours. Are we going after another artifact?” I gave him a couple of seconds to answer the question. When it appeared I still wasn’t going to get a response, I added, “You were going to tell me last night. Why can’t you now?”
“Because I don’t know where your loyalties lie. You called that woman in when you thought I was trouble. I don’t know I can trust you.”
“Then leave me here. I don’t want to go on this stupid mission of yours anyway.”
“That’s not possible. You’re key to my plans.”
And there was the opening I needed to ask the question I really wanted to ask. “Why? Why me? What makes me so special?” Even after my conversation with Abby, and thinking about it for the last hour, I still couldn’t figure it out. “You and I have the same powers. Why do you need me?”
“I cannot say,” he said simply. “Not yet anyway.”
“How convenient for you.”
So, there we were, a stalemate. Quinn unwilling to give up any information, and me refusing to concede until he did.
“Where are we going?”
“Italy.”
“For what?”
“I cannot say.”
I eyed the cup on his desk once again. Thinking maybe I could get him to talk if I did something to his precious cup, I took a mental hold of it again.
But, though I was intent, the bell rang beginning class. Not wanting to really ruin everything on the last day of school, I simply exclaimed, “This isn’t over!” Then I turned and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind me again.
Like what you’ve read? Well this isn’t the end of the story for Christine and her friends. New chapters will be coming soon! Stay with us and enjoy the fun!
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