Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (27 page)

“No,” she said, thoughtfully. “It was like they sort of expected it. They put up the pretense of being irritated that you didn’t come alone, and then you pointed out that the message didn’t specifically say that, and they let it drop.”

“Do you think we’re being watched and listened to right now?”

“Yes,” Carly said. “I think they know everything. Everything we say and do. There’s no getting around it.” She spoke to the emptiness of the van. “Frank is a good boy. If you’ve hurt him, I hope you all rot in hell.” She got a Kleenex out of her purse and dabbed at her eyes.

When the van started moving, we put on our seat belts, riding in silence for the next few minutes. Carly looked grim and exhausted. I wasn’t sure if it was the ordeal or the lighting, but she’d never looked worse. “What if they don’t take us to Frank?” she said, in a low voice. “What if he’s not even…”

Her voice cracked with emotion. She couldn’t finish the sentence, so I did. “He’s not dead, Carly. We’re going to get him and take him home. He’ll be sleeping in his own bed tonight.”

“What if they want you to stay? Like, as a trade for Frank?”

“Then I’ll stay.”

“No, Russ, you can’t do that.” The expression on her face was one of horror. “You have no idea what you’re saying. You don’t know what they’re capable of.”

“I’m starting to get a clue.”

She buried her head in her hands. “I can’t even imagine a way this can end well.”

I said, “Carly, don’t borrow trouble. There’s no point in worrying about anything just yet.”

The van went over a bump and made a turn, then started accelerating. If I had to guess, I’d say we were back on the expressway now. The quiet was unnerving. I never realized how much I relied on music to fill the driving void until I didn’t have it.

“How is it you were you able to do that to the bus driver?” Carly asked. “Getting him to change his mind like that.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m not sure. I mean, I just suddenly felt like I could get inside his brain and get him to do what I wanted. I was pretty sure I could do it, actually. It felt like—you know how it is when you get a growth spurt and without even trying you suddenly realize you can now reach the top shelf in the pantry closet, the one where Dad keeps the candy bars?”

“Yeah. I mean no. I never got that tall; I still can’t reach that shelf.”

I grinned. “Okay, bad comparison.”

“I understand what you’re saying. But why are you suddenly getting all these extra abilities? I thought each person just got one.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure there are actual rules that come with this.”

We were quiet for a time, staring at the place where there would be windows, if there were any. Like being in a paddy wagon, I thought. Not that I’d ever been in one, I just knew about it from the movies.

Carly said, “So Dad keeps candy bars on the top shelf?”

I nodded. “Yeah. He’s got a stash. I found it in seventh grade.”

She twisted her hands in worry. “I wonder what Mom and Dad are doing right now.”

I didn’t know for sure, but I could imagine them finishing up dinner, then rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher, exchanging small talk about the weather and the annoyances of their work day. My mom would be saying how nice it was that I was staying at Carly’s to help Frank with his project for school. For years she’d yearned for Carly and I to become closer. How ironic that this is what it took.

My phone went off, startling me. I’d felt cut off from the world, completely forgetting both of us still had our phones. Carly’s eyebrows rose questioningly as I answered. “Hello?”

“Russ?” I hadn’t recognized the number, but I knew the voice even though it was slightly different from the version I heard inside my mind during our evening talks.

“Nadia!” Despite the fact that we were in the middle of the most depressing drive of my life, I couldn’t help myself—I was happy to hear from her. It was like unexpectedly running into a friend while visiting another country.

She got right to the point. “Mallory told me you left school early. Is everything okay?”

I hesitated, remembering Carly’s opinion that we were being watched. “Just a minute.” I made a pretense of covering the phone and said to Carly, “Hey, Carly, it’s my friend Nadia.” I went back to the phone. “Yep, everything’s fine. I’m just hanging out with my sister.”

Nadia was perceptive. She knew I didn’t normally hang out with Carly, and she understood that I couldn’t tell her what was actually going on. “Oh great,” she said, playing along. “I was a little concerned, but it sounds like everything’s fine.”

“Yep, all good.”

Nadia said, “Okay, well I hate to cut this short, but I have a ton of homework to do. Talk to you later.”

“Take it easy,” I said, signing off. And then to Carly, “She had homework to do.”

To Carly’s credit, she didn’t question the phone call any further, although she did look puzzled. “Maybe I should call Mom and Dad,” she said.

“No, you’ll just make them suspicious. If they haven’t called us, everything’s okay. Let it go.”

A minute or so later, Nadia was in my head. I heard her say:
What in the hell is happening to you?
I
felt her energy all around us, but Carly didn’t seem to notice it. I got the impression Nadia was a radio frequency only I could hear.

How did you find me?
I asked, incredulous. It was all the more amazing considering we were on the move in an unmarked van, and I didn’t even know where we were.

Nadia sounded gleeful.
I used my Russ tracker!

Seriously?

Seriously, no. I have no idea how I found you. I just thought about you and here I am. What’s going on?

I filled her in on everything that had happened from the time I left Mr. Specter’s class until now. It had only been a few hours, but it felt like a lifetime.

When I finished, Nadia said,
What do you think they want?

I don’t know. We’ll find out, I guess.

Do you want me to stick around?

She had to ask? Just having her around made everything better. I would have wrapped myself in her energy if I could have. Smiling, I said,
Yes, if you can.

You’re in luck. I’m grounded until I’m eighteen, so it turns out I’ve got plenty of time and nowhere else to go. Count me in. I’m along for the ride
.

I could tell when the van had left the expressway and switched to side streets, and from there I noted a slowdown that meant we were approaching our final destination. I’d heard of people trapped in trunks of cars who figured out where they were going based on the sound of the road and by keeping track of turns, but I hadn’t really been paying attention. Frankly, I had no idea where we were or how far we’d come. Neither Carly nor I had thought to look at the time when we left the bus, so I couldn’t use that as a guide either. Eight hundred hours of watching crime shows on TV and I still came up with nothing. Worst hostage ever.

When the van jolted to a stop, Carly’s eyes got wide. “We’re here,” she said.

I knew it was either the end of everything or just the beginning.

Through it all, I sensed Nadia’s reassuring presence. At least, if they killed us, I thought, she could bear witness.

Muffled voices came from outside the van, and I sensed that our lady drivers were joined by others—men from the sound of it. The back doors to the van swung open, and both Carly and I blinked from the sudden light. The van was inside what looked like a big warehouse. Again, shades of the movies. These guys might be menacing, but they weren’t all that original. A half dozen people clustered around the opened doors: the two women who drove us, and four men dressed more formally in button-down shirts and dark pants, not a tie in the bunch, but they still resembled the men in the suits we’d encountered driving Mallory home. All six looked to be about Carly’s age. And all of them stared at me like I was the most interesting specimen in the zoo.

“Mr. Becker?” one of the men said.

“Yes?” I said.

“I think we’ve covered this,” Carly snapped. “He’s Russ Becker. I’m Carly Becker. You’re the Associates, and you have my son Frank. We want him back.” As always, Carly was not about to pave the way with diplomacy. She was never one to do things the easy way.

“Thank you for coming,” the same guy said, completely ignoring my sister’s angry outburst. “We appreciate it.”

Carly started to say something else, but I held up my hand to quiet her. “We did what you asked,” I said. “And now I hope you’ll live up to your end of the deal and release my nephew. He’s just a kid, and it was morally reprehensible to involve him in any of this.” I had no idea where the phrase “morally reprehensible” came from but it fit. “Let’s get this over with,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt and climbing out of the van. None of them tried to stop me, in fact, they moved back to give me space. When Carly climbed down, one of the men offered her his hand, but she angrily shook it off. My sister was nothing if not consistent.

“Right this way,” one of the men said, leading us toward the far end of the warehouse and leaving the rest of the group behind. “I’m Tom, by the way,” he said, as if we were on a tour and he was the guide.

Carly and I followed, barely keeping up with his quick steps. “Where are you taking us?” she asked, but he didn’t answer her question. Instead, Tom turned to me. “Just between us, we were all very excited to hear you were coming today. Everyone wants to meet you, or at least get a look at you.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because you’re Russ Becker,” Tom said. “A second gen. Someone like you only comes along every hundred years or so.”

“What do you mean—a second gen?” Carly asked, but again, he didn’t answer. It was like she wasn’t even there. I knew it had to be pissing her off, but to her credit, she kept her cool.

In the back far wall, near the corner, were several doors. Tom opened one and ushered us into a large room that looked like a doctor’s waiting room, complete with upholstered chairs, magazines, and a receptionist’s desk occupied by a dark-haired older woman. Judging by the photos on the shelf behind her chair, she had several children and grandchildren, many of whom played soccer. To the right of her desk was another closed door. “Welcome,” she said, all smiles. She waved a manicured hand in our direction.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Shirley,” Tom said. “Don’t you usually leave by five?”

“Usually,” she said, “But I stuck around tonight to meet Russ Becker.” She got up from her seat and approached me, hand extended. “It’s a pleasure, sir.”

“Suck-up,” Tom said, teasing.

I shook her hand and shot a glance at Carly. What was going on? “I came to get my nephew, Frank,” I said.

“Of course,” she said, returning to her desk. “Miss Becker, can I get you something to drink? You’ll be waiting here.”

“And Mr. Becker, you’ll be coming with me, please,” Tom said to me, gesturing with his chin. “Can you buzz us through, Shirley?”

“Wait a minute,” Carly said. “We came together and we’re staying together. We’re not splitting up.” She took a step closer to me, to show unity, I guess.

Tom and Shirley exchanged the kind of look parents use when toddlers are being unreasonable. “I’m afraid this isn’t negotiable,” he said.

“I know what you people are capable of,” Carly said. “And I know we have a better chance of leaving here in one piece if we stay together.”

“Oh, honey,” Shirley said, and her voice had the same tone my mother’s had when she’d learned I was being picked on in grade school.

But Carly was not going to be placated. “How do I even know my son is alive? Except for one voice mail hours ago, I haven’t heard a thing.”

“Your son is fine,” Shirley said, but her words didn’t help. Carly started demanding they bring Frank out,
right this minute
or she was going to expose all of them for the murderers they were. Shirley tried to calm her, while Tom went off in the corner of the room to make a phone call. I stood frozen, not knowing what to do. I watched my sister having a meltdown and Shirley acting like a kindly den mother, all the while feeling like I should be taking some action.

And then I heard Nadia’s voice coming through clearly and calmly. With all the commotion, I hadn’t even noticed the absence of her energy.
It’s all right, Russ. I’ve seen Frank. He’s fine.

I came to attention.
Are you sure?

They’ve got him in back watching cartoons. He looks a little bored, but he’s fine.

How do you know for sure that it’s Frank?
I wanted to believe her, but it occurred to me that it could be someone else’s kid.

He answered to that name when they gave him the root beer, and besides, he kind of looks like you. Who else could it be?

I took charge of the situation, interrupting Carly’s ranting by waving a hand in front of her mouth. She stopped carrying on to glare at me, but at least she stopped. I took my hand away. “Carly, really, it’s okay. Just wait here for me.”

Tom led me into an adjoining room, which was suspiciously empty except for a metal folding chair positioned under a ceiling light fixture. The floor was bare concrete and the walls and ceiling were painted a stark white. He watched my face to get a reaction. “So what do you think?”

“No windows, two doors,” I said, more of an observation than anything else. The second door was opposite the one we’d entered. “Are you going to be bringing Frank in?”

“I wish it were that easy,” he said, sounding sincere. “But it’s not up to me.”

“Who is it up to?”

“My orders came from the top. The commander has specified that you’re to take a series of tests. Once you’ve completed all the tests, you and your nephew will be reunited, and after a brief interview, you’ll be allowed to go home.”

I didn’t like this at all. “What kind of tests are we talking about?”