Shifted (8 page)

Charlie recoiled. “I’m not ashamed. I just ….”

While she waited for him to come up with something, Briar heard Norine call her name. “Where are you? You were supposed to move the car. Mom’s mad.”

Briar sighed. There were still a dozen cars parked behind Patrice’s sedan, including Charlie’s truck. People were still filtering back to their cars, and the ones who were last to arrive were most eager to stay and hear what they had missed. It was going to take an hour to get everyone turned around on the narrow road back to town. But somehow, Patrice had found a reason to be mad at her. 

“There you are,” Norine said as she came through the last cars. “Mom says you should help with the supplies. Who’s that with you?”

With evident disinterest, Charlie raised his hand in a wave. “Hi, Norine.”

“Well, hi, Charlie. I didn’t realize you were here tonight.” Norine’s shoulders went back and she managed to swish her hips as she walked between the cars. 

“I missed most of the action helping my mother bring supplies. If I could have helped more, I would have,” he said with a pointed look at Briar. 

Norine simpered at Charlie. “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing? But you probably shouldn’t be standing this long. Do you need help to get into your truck?”

Charlie’s shoulders hunched. “I’m fine.”

“Well, all right. But any little thing you need, Charlie, you know you can count on me. After all, I’m right next door.”

Glowering, Charlie limped toward his door. 

“Come on,” Briar said irritably. “Aunt Patrice is waiting.”

“He is just so handsome,” Norine whispered. “What were you two talking about?”

“Nothing,” Briar said quickly, and a lightning bolt of pain lanced into her head. “He was just being rude, as usual.”

“Poor Charlie,” Norine said. “He’s had such a hard time moving on. You know he hasn’t gone on a single date since Angela died?”

“So what?”

“I’m just saying, he’s still a young man, handsome. Maybe he just needs the love of a good woman to turn him around.”

Norine was tapping a coral-painted fingernail against her matching lips. Briar knew that expression. “What are you planning?”

“I’m just thinking that maybe Charlie needs a sweetheart. Do you think he would be interested in me?”

“No,” Briar said, before she thought better of it. Sure enough, Norine wouldn’t speak to her for the rest of the night.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Briar

It was hot in the hallway, humid and close. She wanted to get out, wanted to duck into one of the side rooms and hide, but her feet kept carrying her forward. With each step the hallway stretched longer. She had to get to the end. She tried to run, but the hot, sticky air clung to her like tar. There was screaming now, desperate pleading, and Briar fell to her knees and crawled across the nubby gray carpet. 

One foot closer, two, and suddenly the stairs were there. Then the world twisted, and in a flash she was clinging to the top step, certain she would tumble back down the long hallway if she let go. There was something coming up (down?) the stairs toward her, and she pressed her face into the carpet. She couldn’t look, couldn’t bear to see.

A hand came down on her cheek. It bore a simple gold wedding band and reeked of blood. The hand tipped Briar’s head up, and she wanted to close her eyes but it didn’t help, it didn’t stop her from seeing.

Her mother’s face was destroyed, so bashed and battered that Briar could see the bone peeking out of her skin. Her mother’s broken mouth widened in a smile. “Hello, my dear,” she said, her voice as musical and sweet as ever.

Briar jerked awake with a scream caught in her throat. Her heart was pounding, her body covered in clammy sweat. For a terrible moment, the dream world seemed to overlay the real world and she was still in that hallway, still at the top of those stairs, still spinning in a world flipped upside down. 

Then she was in her bedroom. Morning sunshine streamed through her curtains, illuminating the dress form and sewing machine that sat on her desk. The birds were just beginning to chirp, and she heard Mikey Gould whistling as he threw papers from his bike. 

She was safe here.

Still shaky, she turned on her back and stared at the ceiling. She could feel the dream lurking, sticking to her like the tar she had imagined. Through all the years she lived in Independence Falls, these nightmares had only come two or three times. But since the festival—since her powers—she dreamed of her mother nearly every night. 

Three quick knocks sounded on her bedroom door. “Breakfast!” Norine sang out. “Mom says now or never.”

Briar was in no mood to deal with Norine or Patrice. But her stomach was growling, and lying in bed brooding wasn’t going to make the dreams any easier to deal with. Sighing, she threw back the covers and stood.

She found Norine and Patrice already sitting at the table, eating flapjacks doused in syrup. “Get the paper before you sit,” Patrice said, barely glancing at Briar. By the time she got back to the table, there were only two small flapjacks left, and they were cold.

Patrice stared at her as if daring her to complain. Briar’s rent was supposed to pay for food as well, but Patrice seemed to be giving her smaller and smaller portions. It was fine, she told herself. She could always make herself a mid-morning snack after Patrice went to work. It wasn’t like Patrice had put a padlock on the refrigerator.

Yet. 

Besides, she reminded herself, thinking of the dream—there were worse things than cold flapjacks. 

Norine unfolded the paper and let out a little squeak. “Look at this!” She spread the paper on the table, pointing at the text. 

Briar felt the same sinking shame she always felt when someone asked her to read. The words spun away from her, the letters twisting and jumping on the page. Really, she could hardly blame Charlie for thinking she was simple. Her grades had been abysmal all through school. 

It was impossible to do well in class when she could barely read. 

She knew it was futile, but stared at the paper for several long seconds, trying to puzzle it out. Finally she sat back in her chair. “What does it say?”

Patrice snorted. “Don’t help her, Norine. She’ll never learn if we pander to her.”

“You really think I haven’t tried to learn?” Briar asked, hurt.

“All I know is, I spent hundreds of dollars on specialists and drove you all over the state to tutors and fancy schools. And for what? You still can’t read.” 

Briar’s face was hot. “I know you made sacrifices for me. But if I haven’t learned how to read by now, I’m never going to. You’re just going to have to accept having a dummy in the family.”

Patrice said, “Maybe if you just applied yourself—”

“If I could, I would—”

“It’s a shameful thing, in this day and age, to be illiterate—

“Oh, give it a rest, Momma,” Norine sighed. “I don’t mind reading aloud. Especially when it’s this juicy.” 

She crossed her legs and flicked out the paper in front of her. “The headline says ‘Identities Exposed: The Powered People Among Us.’” Norine settled into an anchorwoman voice and read on:

 An anonymous source has provided this paper the names and abilities of all the people in Independence Falls with so-called “powers.” This source, known only as “A Concerned Citizen of Independence Falls,” claims that this group is referring to themselves as the “Independents.”

“Well, that seems a little presumptuous,” Patrice sniffed.

“Hush, I’m reading. It says here the powers started to appear after the Firelight Festival … purple fog, illness, blah blah blah … okay, here’s the good part.” Norine ruffled the paper again and smirked, obviously reveling in being the one to reveal the information. She finally started reading again when Aunt Patrice huffed in annoyance.

The following powered persons have been identified: 

Baker, Ruth: Fire Control 

Briggs, Clayton: Projectile Energy

Briggs, Cora: Water Control 

Briggs, William: Teleportation

Clark, Veronica: Supersonic Screams

Crabtree, Ralph: Super Speed

Dickenson, Theodore: Force Field
 

“I heard Teddy saved the doctor from a boulder,” Norine exclaimed, looking up from the article.

“Keep reading,” Briar said.

Norine shot Briar a look, but went back to the paper.

Egan, Danny: Emotional Influence

Fields, Margaret: Explosive Energy

Greg, Frank: Illuminated Fingers

Michaels, Kent: Indestructible Skin

Murphy, Butch: Mind Control 

“Mind control! Can you imagine? Sheesh, that just gives me the willies,” Norine interjected before continuing to read. 

Authorities advise caution when interacting with any of the people who have alleged powers. “The effects of these bizarre abilities might be more significant than we realize,” said police Captain Brad Barton. “It is possible that there are psychological consequences that we don’t yet understand.” 

“He makes it sound like they all might go crazy,” Norine said, and by her tone it was clear she could only hope for such a juicy story.

“Well, it’s certainly not normal,” Patrice said. 

“Who do you think the informant is?” Briar asked.

“Could be anyone,” Patrice said, finishing her coffee. “But telling the public was the right thing to do. The people deserve to know who they are dealing with.”

“Yeah, but where did this information come from? The public deserves to know that too,” Briar argued.

“The whole town has been talking about this for weeks,” Norine pointed out. She scanned the article, muttering more names of the supposed Independents. “I already knew about most of these people. But
Lucy Roberts
has a power? Looks like Little Miss Perfect is finally taking a walk on the wild side.”

“I can’t believe you,” Briar said. “Lucy has never been anything but nice to you, but as soon as someone says something scandalous about her, you assume it must be true.”

“I am not,” Norine said. Her voice was tinny and warbling. “But it’s in the paper, isn’t it? Doesn’t that mean it has to be true?”

“I’m sure the paper has a good source,” Patrice said. “And I’ll ask you not to speak that way to your cousin.”

Briar sighed. Patrice always took Norine’s side. Attempting to stick to the point, she asked, “Don’t these people have a right to their privacy?”

“At the risk of public safety?” Patrice asked archly. “Butch Murphy is getting out of jail soon. Don’t you think people have a right to know that he can control minds?”

“Butch Murphy was a deviant and a criminal even without powers. We know he’s dangerous. The rest of the people here haven’t done anything wrong,” Briar countered.

“What about the fight on the Fourth of July?”

“They were defending themselves!”

“And they destroyed half the town to do it. If you ask me, we ought to run them out of town, or put all of them in jail,” Patrice pronounced. 

Briar laughed. “They have superpowers. How long do you think it would take them to get out?”

“That’s the point exactly,” Norine put in. “If they have powers, that makes the rest of us powerless.”

Briar and Patrice looked at Norine, both shocked by her eloquence.

 “I just mean,” she continued, looking directly at Briar, “I don’t want to have anything to do with someone who can manipulate or hurt me. And who knows, maybe if you don’t use your power it will just go away.”

“Maybe they don’t have a choice,” Briar said, looking directly back. “Maybe they can’t control it.”

“All the more reason to know what we’re dealing with,” said Patrice crisply, pinning her nurse’s watch on her lapel. “I’m off to work. I expect this kitchen to be spotless when I get home.”

Neither girl replied. After the front door shut Norine said, “You’re lucky I haven’t told anyone what you said to me, or your name might be on this list.”

“It should be,” Briar said. “I’m just like them.”

“Why would you even say that?”

“Let me prove it to you,” she begged.

“No, I don’t want you to prove anything. You don’t have to be associated with these people, do you understand? You don’t have to have your name smeared all over the paper. So why would you want to?”

“I don’t have any choice. It’s the truth!”

Norine got to her feet. “I think you are using it as an excuse to be rude and mean.”

“More than anything, I wish I could make things up like I used to,” Briar pleaded.

“Is that what our friendship was? Something you made up?”

For a long moment, Briar couldn’t answer. 

Norine pressed her lips together and nodded jerkily. “That’s what I thought.” 

“Norine—” 

“Don’t. I’m going out. I’d rather spend my time with people who actually like me,” she said. 

The angry spite in her voice kept Briar silent. 

The front door slammed as Norine went out. Briar stayed seated, looking at the newspaper spread on the table. She wanted to read the article, but she couldn’t. She wanted to mend things with Norine, but she couldn’t do that either. So she did the only thing she could—she gathered the dishes and started to clean up from breakfast.

CHAPTER NINE

Charlie

On Friday afternoon, Charlie left his shift at the library and headed directly across the square to the mayor’s office. That morning’s newspaper article had been the only thing anyone could talk about all day, and Charlie felt like his ears were ringing from all the gossip and speculation. 

He needed to talk to Will Briggs. Will had been his closest friend since they were boys. They had competed in both sports and academics, encouraging each other to excel by example. The year they graduated and went off to college—Will following his father’s footsteps to Yale, and Charlie with a full baseball scholarship to the University of Denver—everyone in town had said that they would take the world by storm.