Forgotten (Reject High: A Young Adult Science Fiction Series Book 3) (9 page)

The officer backed up, his hand at the weapon holster.

From behind me, McCoy’s partner dug his fingers into the right side of my neck in an attempt to bring me down. When that didn’t work he threw his weight into my back to gain leverage and tried a different pressure point.

“Let me go,” I told them. “I won’t hurt you.”

“He’s on something!” McCoy’s partner shouted at my back.

McCoy circled around to face me and drew his stun gun. The broad shouldered and stocky officer aimed its barrel at my chest. The fact I had broken the cuffs shocked him.

In a calm tone I said to them, “I’m not a criminal. I won’t hurt you.”

“Then get down on the ground,” McCoy said. “Or we’ll stun you.”

I held up my hands. Not in surrender. Just because I hate getting shot by anything.
Esteban, Rhapsody — get me out of here. Any time now is fine
. “Can’t do that.”

McCoy walked closer, his stun gun still trained on me. He shouted over his shoulder. “Are we clear? Potts, Lee, are we clear?”

No one answered – not Potts, Lee, my mom, Sasha or Esteban.

Did they have white ice? Any moment now Sasha’s house would be flooded with armed men in blue. The exact kind of attention we did not need. Anyone with a brain would connect the dots from Joyce to Sasha and then to me, Rhapsody, and Esteban.

I had to move. Sleep-deprived and without Adderall my brain was no good at freezing them. McCoy turned into a statue for a few seconds. His partner didn’t move or make a sound.

After breaking my control, McCoy screamed at me. “On the floor!”

I stood my ground. We were ten feet apart. The guy at my back couldn’t be more than a foot away. McCoy pulled the trigger on his stun gun. The probes stuck into my body armor and sparked with electricity. Again, I didn’t flinch. Instead, I yanked them out.

McCoy holstered his stun gun and drew his pistol. Though he couldn’t hurt me, my heart thumped. Neither of us intended to budge positions. His partner came over and stood at McCoy’s side. Things were about to get more complicated if he fired.

“I don’t know who or what you are.” McCoy cocked the hammer on his firearm. “Down. On the ground. Now.”

The first thing he would do is unmask me if I did what he said. “I’m not going to kill you. With or without the suit, bullets don’t hurt me. Shoot if you want, but they ricochet and you might get hit.”

Lapses of belief shadowed his face. McCoy’s right index finger tickled the trigger.

Should he shoot at me or not? Could he be convinced to stand down by me, a masked teenager in a wetsuit? How could I be less threatening without giving myself into custody?

Step-by-step, never taking my eyes off of him, I backed up to the front door. He’d have to let me escape or to risk shooting me and harming himself and his partner.

The gun wobbled in his grasp. He didn’t want to shoot me. I wasn’t threatening his life. Cops opened fire if there was a deadly threat and I said I wouldn’t hurt him.

When I unlocked the door and opened it, Joyce’s stolen credit card appeared on the end table in a puff of green smoke. I tossed it at McCoy’s feet.

As soon as I hit the porch, Esteban teleported me to the boardwalk a half mile away.

From there, we had a clear eye line to the beach house.

“Are you okay?” I asked my mom.

We were used to these situations. She wasn’t. Her answer was short, forceful, and to the point. “Fine.”

Rhapsody’s wide-eyes told me there was another side of the story. While they snuck out of the house, something had happened. Mom was not okay, like she insisted I believe.

At the edge of the boardwalk, the five of us observed McCoy’s search. He and his partners circled the building, even crawling beneath its foundation. Finding nothing, the men returned to their squad cars and motored off. I couldn’t help but be relieved.

Esteban clutched my shoulder. “You didn’t puke this time! That’s progress.”

I hadn’t thought about it. There was some leftover bubbling, but nothing serious enough for me to unmask. “Thanks for sending in the card. Last minute. Way to build the suspense.”

“I have to know exact locations to teleport. Sounds simple. Except I forget stuff like that all the time. Good thing I didn’t pop it into a wall.”

Sasha pulled her mask down over her head. “So, where to next, Cap?”

Mom elbowed me. “Cap? Like short for ‘captain’? I thought you hated nicknames.”

I nodded yes to both. Long story. “We get help.”

CHAPTER NINE

things go haywire

All of us, except Mom, were wary of involving the Collective. That’s because she didn’t know any differently. The piles of skeletons at their doorstep would’ve changed her mind. Especially since one of them belonged to her.

To my knowledge, she hadn’t flown farther than the distance from the cemetery to here. Which was a two hour drive, tops. She had my powers – were they tied to mine? Could they fizz out? Without knowing the exact nature of her abilities, trusting her to go with one of us or alone was too risky. No way I’d let her out of my sight, and I couldn’t be everywhere. We split up – Rhapsody and Mom with me and Sasha went with Esteban.

My group landed in the deserted field first. Not much had changed there. Rhapsody and I unmasked. We’d landed on a patch of scorched earth. The black grass crunched underneath our feet. Over to the left was a large divot where King’s helicopter crashed. I'd brought it down by throwing Mr. Jeff Peters’ Jupiter sedan at it. Destroying my old science teacher’s car had given me great satisfaction. He'd shot at me twice and was one of the people who started all this in the first place.

Mom stayed unusually quiet. She talked more when she was nervous, not less. After a prolonged silence she asked us, “Where are we?”

“In Walsh,” I said. “There’s a fortress below us.”

I remembered my code to get in, Rhapsody’s name. Peters’ idea of a joke, I’m guessing. He knew I had feelings for Rhapsody, so he synced her name in my voice to open the entryway. I whispered it a few times, hoping the sensors would pick it up. Nope.

Esteban popped Rhapsody near where we stood. “Where’s the doorknob?” he joked.

“Can’t teleport in. I’ve never been down there.”

We didn’t have time for me to be embarrassed to yell out my girlfriend’s name in front of my ex. “Rhapsody!”

She slapped my back. “What? Why are you yelling?”

Gears and rotors whirred. A series of pops and clicks later the entryway appeared to our right. Once it finished, I explained. “The last time I was here, Peters gave me a password.”

Sasha strutted past me. Esteban shrugged and followed her. Rhapsody, Mom, and I entered at the same time, using the flickering orange lights to guide us. I wish I’d left my mask on. The scent of gasoline and oil made me lightheaded. The five of us filed into the wire- screened elevator. Esteban, Sasha, and Mom were up front. Rhapsody stood behind my mother. I positioned myself behind Sasha, in case she fainted from her claustrophobia. Above the faded metal plate marked “BAE.A.T.” Esteban pressed the “B” for basement.

The rusted metal cage rattled and moved downward. Sasha gulped loud enough for us to hear. She could have ridden the elevator by herself and it wouldn’t have helped her much. Maybe Rhapsody should have ghosted her down? Who knew if they were getting along this minute or not? Esteban rubbed his hand across Sasha’s shoulders and whispered in her ear.

A sharp pang hit my chest. I had no right to be jealous of him and her, but I was. He was cool and everything. He’d treat her way better than Selby did. She and I had just broken up, though. He could wait until we finished our latest mission to make a move, couldn’t he? She nodded and leaned his way for comfort.

Being a good friend to her, I reached forward and grabbed the center of Sasha’s right palm. She squeezed my fingers, letting go when we hit the bottom floor.

The level looked the same, from the rust marks on the floor to the strong scent of cleaner and a thick layer of gray dust on everything. Forming a line with me as the lead, we trekked through three narrow doors and darkened passageways until we reached the control room. The antique wooden desks and surveillance equipment – everything had been repaired since the epic throw-down we’d had here a couple months ago. Here, my old principal from Reject High, Ron Welker, had attacked us. He’d gone rogue from the Collective and sought the provenance aquamarine for King.

“I don’t get it. Where’s the welcoming committee? They know we’re here.”

Rhapsody was right. One thing about the Collective, they watched everything. I thought the escape from the van might have pissed them off.

Mom pointed in the direction of the medical treatment area. Surrounding it was a series of white privacy panels. “Listen. I think someone is back there.”

A faint, rhythmic beep and a low, rumbling groan later we discovered that she was right. Odds were, it was Courtney, since Taylor had beaten her up pretty badly at the hospital. Stepping over wires running the length of the floor, we hooked around the panels. Courtney lay on a hospital bed with erected rails.

“Hey,” she said to me, careful not to move much. Her hospital gown covered most of her thin frame, except for a bandaged gash on her left leg. She quickly tossed a blanket over it. Rhapsody stood at the left side, near her head. I positioned myself by her shoulders, with Esteban at Courtney’s right. Mom came into sight. She nervously waved at Courtney. “Hello.”

“My God,” she croaked. “David was right.”

I took immediate offense. “Hold up! He was right about what?”

Courtney pointed at the gleaming jewel hanging on my mother’s chest. “That.”

I felt guilty. Not about what I had done in bringing my mother back to life. I’d do that a thousand times over if given the choice to do so. King was holding Debra captive to force me to give him the aquamarine. Once Selby told me that, I had to do everything to save her. She was the only real parent I had. Now, with my mom back, she was a mother figure for me. Still, she’d gotten her neck broken because of me. I owed her a debt for that, right?

She touched my hand. “Don’t. Not your fault.”

It was hard to believe. Everything else was my fault. Why not this? “Where’re Camuto and Hughes?”

“Out,” was all she would say about it. I didn’t have to read her mind. I don’t think they told her where they were going.

Esteban patted his stomach. “Not to interrupt, but…”

“Go.” She waved us all away. “Eat. I’m not going anywhere.”

I wanted to stay and ask her questions. Using our powers sapped our strength because of the adrenaline they used. Even if we’d rather be doing other things, not eating wasn’t optional. After breakfast I’d come back and get her to tell me everything I wanted to know about my mom’s return.

Rhapsody led us to the kitchen, where there was a ton of uncooked food. I’d watched Debra and Mom fix breakfast a whole bunch of times, but that didn’t mean I could do it. Sasha could burn water. I’m not sure whether or not Rhapsody had cooking skills beyond Ramen noodles.

Before I could ask, Esteban put on an apron.  “Breakfast isn’t going to make itself, I guess. Either you could cook in my house or you didn’t eat.”

While he worked, the rest of us sat in the dining room, occasionally offering help, which Esteban refused. Soon the smell of frying bacon and sausage wafted through the air. Anytime we tried to sneak a strip or a link, he’d teleport the plate someplace else in the kitchen as a joke. After we all tried at least twice and Rhapsody flirted with retaliation, we finally gave up and waited. Sitting at the table and looking at each other was no fun, so I started some small talk.

“Hey, Mom.” I hitched my right thumb at Rhapsody. “Guess who’s into Maze?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Really? I didn’t think kids your age were into old school.”

Rhapsody smiled and elbowed me. “Not ‘into’ Maze. I like one song, ‘Can’t Get Over You’. To be honest, it’s hard for me to listen to their albums.” She imitated Frankie Beverly, the lead singer, with a wailing, melodic-sounding moan. “They’re all the same to me.”

I wanted to sink into the ground or wheel in a stretcher for Mom to lie on. My girlfriend just insulted Frankie Beverly.
It’s a miracle she named me after my father and not Frankie Beverly Champion instead.
From now until eternity, Rhapsody would be dead to her.

“Not me,” Sasha said. She sang a few bars of “Golden Time of Day.” I never knew she could sing like that. Her voice glided across the chorus’ notes. “It’s not an Anderson barbecue unless that song plays at least three times. We do the electric slide to ‘Before I Let Go’, too.”

Mom grinned. Sasha had saved the day. “You know this one?” She hummed the chorus to “Joy and Pain.”

“I love that one!” Sasha piped the lyrics. The two of them sang and laughed for minutes.

Rhapsody and I rolled our eyes. Neither of us could stand this much old school music.

I grabbed a fistful of tablecloth. “Are you two done? Or do I need to toss this over Sasha’s shoulders and walk her off-stage?”

Sasha giggled, sounded genuinely amused. “I’d come back for an encore anyway!” The laughter subsided. I had to help Rhapsody save face. “She does listen to Jay-Z.”

Mom flipped her hand. “I never liked you listening to that crap, but you downloaded it behind my back.”

“I like one album of his…actually, about half of it,” Rhapsody said correcting me. “Ms. Anna, my favorite bands are Tool, Evanescence, Nine Inch Nails – I like The Clash, Deathcab, and Lorde – her twitchy dancing makes me laugh, but her lyrics are real talk.”

She might as well have been telling her in Spanish. Mom didn’t know any of those bands, except for "The Clash”."Didn’t The Clash sing that song, ‘Rock the Casbah’?”

“Yes!” Rhapsody slapped the table. “They did. Good music.”

Finally they had something in common. Unwilling to mess with it, I got up. “What’s that, Esteban? You need help in the kitchen? Alright, I’m coming.”

Thankfully he hadn’t heard me over the noise he created in the kitchen. The aroma of the eggs and cheese, bacon, sausage, grits, and home fries cooking was overwhelming. In anticipation of the feast, I set the table with paper plates and utensils. Soon everything was finished and we were loading up our plates with food. My pile was the highest of everyone’s. Mom’s was the smallest. She’d flown at least from the cemetery to the beach. Why wasn’t she hungrier than a few eggs and a link of sausage?

“Hey Mom, you flew to the beach, right? I never asked if we were your first stop.” “Shh.” Mom elbowed me. “There’s time for that. Say grace so we can eat.”

I prayed a short prayer and tagged on at the end that I was glad to have her back. Rhapsody did the Catholic cross thing and so did Esteban.

“Everything looks delicious, Esteban!” Sasha had a little too much enthusiasm in her voice over food, in my opinion. It did smell fantastic, though.

He nodded and said, “Thanks. My pleasure.”

At that, we dug in. I got so busy shoveling forkfuls of food into my mouth that I didn’t notice Mom dawdling over hers. Rhapsody’s twisted expression caught my eye. Something wasn’t quite right with my mother. She had risen from the dead a few hours ago. She might need some time adjusting to the new status. I know I did.

“Everything okay?” I asked her with a mouth full of food. “Try the sausage. It’s bomb.”

She stuck her fork into the link and bit it. After a few chews, she swallowed it and jerked in her chair when it traveled down her throat. Another bite and her reaction was the same, except she cursed about it under her breath.

What’s going on with her?

“Excuse me.” Always a lady, Mom dabbed a napkin at the corners of her mouth though she’d eaten two bites and left.

Rhapsody put a hand on my leg and squeezed. I should go after her and we should talk.

I’d lost her through the first door. Without knowledge of the compound’s layout, she was pretty easy to locate. I found her pacing in the control room. Hunched over with hands in her pockets, she mumbled words to herself.

“What’s wrong?”

She showed me her right arm. Two half inch-long slits were on her forearm. “Sasha has a pair of shears in her bathroom. I pushed the blades straight through the muscle in my arm to the other side. It didn’t hurt. I should be bleeding, but I’m not. Not even a bruise, Jason!”

At a loss for words, I struggled with how to respond. “W-why’d you do that to yourself?”

In tears, she pointed to the kitchen. “That sausage? It tasted good. I swallowed it. It went…somewhere. I don’t feel my stomach. I’m not sure I have one. Am I even human anymore?”

Trying to calm her down, I held her wrists. “Look at me. We’ll work this out.”

Her chest heaved with frantic energy.

Sweat formed on my brow. Hers was desert dry.

“How, Jason? I was dead. Nothing is working the way it’s supposed to.”

“I don’t know!” I shouted back in desperation. Now I was as crazed as she was. “The Collective will figure it out. This has to work. You can’t go back to being dead. I won’t let you.”

We hugged. My mother was real. There were bones in her body and flesh covering them. Her blood would come back in time, or whatever. I’m sure there was an x-ray machine down here, and Camuto would be excited to use it on her. They’d run some quick basic tests. Then we’d get to the bottom of this. She could be fueled by seaweed and I wouldn’t care.

We returned to the empty dining room table. Everyone but Sasha had finished eating and decided to leave the mess for Hughes to clean up. I wasn’t touching it. Mom sat down and Sasha tried comforting her by rubbing the space between her thumb and index finger. The pressure point was supposed to relieve stress. I’m not sure it worked in this case. Meanwhile, I finished off my plate in record time. We had a battle to fight soon and I needed the energy.