Collide (14 page)

Josh is already at the car, loading in his backpack. “Here, I’ll drive again, you navigate,” he says as he tosses the map to me.

I glance at the map, staring at the picture paper-clipped next to the fold. “Do you remember her?” I ask.

“I do.” David comes up behind me fast, sending a fresh shiver down my spine. I turn to glare and notice the smile in his eyes.

Stupid boys.

“She used to follow Josh around like a little puppy.” David laughed as he climbed into the backseat. “She had such a crush.”

“I don’t remember that at all,” Josh says as we both get in the car. “Do you remember her?”

I stare at the picture, noting the curve of Maya’s face, the dark glow of her skin and the golden flecks in her otherwise black eyes. “A little, maybe.” Images begin to poke up through my unconscious thoughts. “She liked to laugh.”

The images coalesce, forming the now-familiar picture of a sterile lab, shiny stainless steel tables, and lines of toys and peg boards. Maya twirls around the lab throwing toys toward me. Each time the toys hover in the air in front of me before slowly lowering to the ground. Maya smiles and laughs and begs me to do it again. Her enthusiasm is contagious and I find myself missing her and the childhood I scarcely remember. At least, some parts.

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it wrong that I miss them?”

Josh chews his jaw in silence. “We need to find her,” he says after a moment. “Before something bad happens.”

The drive to Maya’s house is uneventful as we pass more cornfields and barns than I think possible. It’s mid-day by the time we reach the low mountains of the Adirondacks and the town marked on the map. The air smells sweetly of wildflowers and grass, no remnants of the rain that stormed on through the night.

David and Josh talk most of the drive, as I lose myself in landscape, numb. Snippets of their conversation float by as they reminisce about their dreams of being superheroes and changing the world. Josh is happier than I’ve seen him in years. He laughs and jokes like when we were kids; before the fight with Mom and Dad, before he left.

David tries to pull me into the discussion more than once. I ignore his advances, not ready to acquiesce to my feelings for him yet, not trusting my ability to keep myself from going all X-Men crazy again.

Too late.

Pictures of the institution, the experiments, penetrate through my mind. I am certain that I’m responsible for whatever made us leave. If only I could remember what happened.

We drive up a long dirt road to Maya’s house and goose bumps start to spread across my skin. Everything is wrong about this place.

David touches my shoulder and I startle. “You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. I have that weird feeling again. Like at home.” I meet Josh’s gaze. “You know?”

“Me too. Stay in the car. David and I will go.”

I’m out and next to them before they say another word. “Like I ever follow your orders.”

Josh nods as we slowly climb the stairs to the house. The chills expand across my skin. Every instinct screams at me to leave. “Anyone sense anything?”

“Other than an overwhelming need to split, nope.” David’s voice is low and cautious.

“Me, either,” Josh whispers.

I lay a hand on the door and close my eyes. An image of the interior opens across my eyelids. The house is tossed, reminiscent of mine. “We’re too late.” My voice cracks on the words. “She’s not here.”

Josh opens the door as David pushes me behind him. The house is a mess. Every drawer emptied and on the floor. We explore each room, finding no signs of Maya.

I go upstairs in search of a clue to point us in the right direction. The first two rooms are in shambles. The last room appears untouched, the door closed. I place my hand lightly on the heavy wood. Nothing reaches to me from the inside the room, no presence I can sense. I swallow back my hint of fear and crack open the door.

The bedroom, hers based on the lavender walls and lace covered duvet, is as messy as the rest of the house. The desk and nightstands are up-ended and broken. I step over the scattered pieces of Maya’s life, still searching for a hint of her whereabouts. Pictures lay torn and crumbled across the floor. I scoop up a few, smoothing out what I can. The top picture features an image of her as a child, holding hands with a familiar looking man I can only assume is her father. The next is a photo of her in front of a familiar farmhouse.

I know that house
.

My hands shake the last picture. Three smiling faces look up through the wrinkled paper. Maya, Mari and me. We’re so happy, so complete. In the image, we hug each other tightly with grins so wide I can’t help but smile too. The same familiar house is in the background.

Tears overcome my eyes as flashes of emotions flit through my body. Joy. Acceptance. Love. Things I’ve craved since before I can remember. Things I believed I’d never find.

I shove the picture in my pocket and run from the room, unable to hold back the stream of tears. I’m down the stairs and out the door within a few heartbeats.

“Dakota,” David yells as I run past him.

“Leave me alone.”

“Wait.” David follows me to the car, grabs my arm and spins me toward him. “What’s wrong?”

There’s so much I want to say. “I can’t,” is all that comes out.

“Talk to me. You used to be able to tell me anything.” The pain in his eyes is palpable.

“No . . . I just . . . can’t.” I turn, the tears flowing more freely now.

David wraps his arms around mine in a tight embrace. “It’ll be okay; I promise.”

“I wish everyone would just stop saying that. It’s not going it be okay.”

I’ll never be okay again.

THE ARCHITECT WALKED THROUGH THE FORESTS SURROUNDING THE TINY HOUSE AND EDGED UP TO THE PROPERTY UNHEARD
. Things appeared exactly as she’d planned—the house trashed, enough evidence to keep them intrigued. Scared.

Perfect
.

She’d lead them this far, now all she had to do was push them into her trap.

The Ninja walked out of the house and scanned the landscape, his body tense and his hands fisted at his sides. He paced across the porch before he walked down the stairs and toward the property’s edge. The sun filtered through the trees as she scrutinized his movements. She wanted to join his presence, understand his thoughts. Risky. She wouldn’t be able to stay hidden, not from him. Instead, she contented herself with studying him as he surveyed the property, pushing through the low maples and ferns typical in the forest. Pine needles crunched underfoot as he came within a few feet of her hiding spot.

Confusion rolled from him in waves. The Architect didn’t need her psychic abilities to sense his chaotic emotions. He pulled a crumpled photo from his pocket. She recognized the picture immediately. Same five children all smiling at the camera; same four doctors dressed in lab coats that reflected the camera’s flash. He rubbed his thumb over the picture and swallowed hard.

The Architect imagined herself running to him, comforting him. She remembered the way his blue eyes pierced her heart, longed for a relationship he never offered. It crushed her when the Creator accused him of betrayal, nearly destroyed her when she learned that the price for joining the Order would be his death.

The Ninja tucked the picture back in his pocket, wiped his eyes and walked back to the porch. She wasn’t ready to kill them all. Not yet.

Are you ready to carry out your assignment?
There was no anger in the Creator’s voice, no disappointment that the others were not yet dead. Only the genuine acceptance she’d come to need from him.

Yes. All three recruits are here. Should I take them now? Kill them?

A pause broke through the Creator’s thoughts. It wasn’t like him to hesitate, even for a brief moment.

The Architect stared at the Ninja and waited for instructions. She’d imagined her vengeance numerous times, each without a twinge of doubt. Now that her victory approached, she was unsure.

I want you to bring them to me
, the Creator said in her thoughts.
All of them
.

Sir?

The Creator had guaranteed her revenge. Doubt or not, she wasn’t willing to relinquish the promise he’d made.

Bring the recruits home
, the Creator said.
I need all of them. She needs to experience true pain. She needs to be vulnerable. And she needs to know I was the one to cause it if I am to make her join us.

The Architect opened her mouth to protest, closing it before the words “I don’t understand” escaped. She’d never known the Creator to get personally involved. But this was different.

For both of them.

Weave yourself back into their lives
, the Creator told the Architect.
Gain their trust. Make sure they know you are on their side. Then, when the time is right, bring them to me.

And if they won’t come?

Make sure they are too tempted to play hero to say “No”.

If they figure out what’s happening?

Make sure they don’t
. The Creator left her thoughts as the Ninja glanced in her direction before turning away.

The noonday sun settled high above them, still blocked by the tall pines. The Ninja made one last tour of the property before he stood at the edge of the house, stiff and unyielding.

The Architect drew a mental image of the safe house and his parents in complete detail—the house perfectly positioned between cornfields and the lake, and his parents pacing the porch with strangled anticipation. The recruits drove up the long drive, anxious for a reunion that almost never happened. It was everything the Ninja wanted.

And the only way the Architect could fulfill her mission.

She closed her eyes and pushed the image carefully into his thoughts. At first his mind closed, startled by the vision’s presence. In a heartbeat, he opened up to the hope the vision represented. He embraced each detail, as though he, alone, had created the image. His emotions followed his mind, tracing the pictures and allowing them to confirm his deepest desires—his parents waited for them in safety.

The Ninja’s knees wobbled and he stooped over to catch his breath.