Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (42 page)

“It’s not for too much longer,” Russ said in a comforting way. “When the trip is over, I’ll try it then. First thing, once we get back. I promise.”

Nadia

When we’d arrived at the airport, Russ hurriedly paid the driver and grabbed my bags, and we ran to the terminal. Mr. Specter was outside of the security area, waiting for us with my boarding pass. Apparently while I’d been packing at home, Russ had called and told them I was coming on the trip, and using Praetorian Guard connections, Mr. Specter arranged for a last minute ticket. Someone, a stranger who would never know why, got bumped. A bad day for them, but a good day for me.

We were expedited through security and made it to the terminal just as the other passengers were lining up to board the plane. Mallory’s face lit up when she saw us approach and she broke from the line to give me a hug. “I’m so excited you’re here,” she exclaimed. “When Russ called and said your Dad agreed to let you go I couldn’t believe it. Isn’t this awesome?” Her voice rose in volume until it was almost a squeal. Hard to fake that kind of enthusiasm.

“It’s pretty great,” I said, and in that instant I forgave her for toying with Russ’s affection, for being the girl the guys drooled over, for taking charge and talking for me when she got impatient with my shyness. She was my friend and she was genuinely thrilled that I was here.

When the plane took off, I knew there was no turning back. All of us had been paired up on the plane: Mr. Specter and Kevin Adams had adjacent seats, Mallory next to me, and Russ and Jameson in front of us. The guys shared an armrest, but not much else. Only Mrs. Whitehouse sat separately. She tried to switch with the man who sat directly across the aisle from Mallory, but he’d refused, so she reluctantly went back to her assigned seat about ten rows ahead of the rest of us.

When they gave us the okay to turn on electrical devices, Mallory turned her attention to her iPad while I leafed through the Sky Mall catalog. The vibe I picked up from Mallory was strangely subdued, and the rest of our group seemed quiet too.

After a few minutes she handed the iPad to me, and I realized she’d typed a message.

In Miami we’re switching to a private plane and we’ll get briefed on the flight
. I nodded and she took the device back, deleted that sentence and wrote: 
I wish you could have seen Russ when Mr. Specter said he brought your passport along just in case
.

I took the iPad out of her hands and typed:
What did he do
?

Mallory:
He jumped up like a crazy person, said he was going to your house to try & convince your parents to let you come. I told him there was no way they’d say yes. Kevin said Russ shouldn’t go because he’d miss the flight, but Mr. Specter told him to go ahead and try
.

Me:
What did Jameson say
?

Mallory:
That Russ was a complete dumbass and that he was going to mess everything up
.

Me:
Typical
.

Mallory:
And when we found out Russ pulled it off, none of us could believe it. I tried mind control on your mom and it didn’t work. What did Russ say to your dad to get him to agree
?

I held the iPad, hesitating. For some reason, I didn’t want her to know that Russ had told my dad he didn’t want to go without me and that he’d used a superheroes analogy. The memory of our conversation in the taxi was precious, just between us, and I didn’t want to cheapen it by sharing. Finally, I typed:
He personally guaranteed my safety
.

That seemed to satisfy her. She nodded and took the iPad back. After that, I occupied myself by looking out the window and thinking deep thoughts. From the ground, clouds looked as substantial as clumps of dryer lint or swirls of cotton candy. Flying through them though, it was obvious that clouds were nothing more than fog in the sky. As ethereal as mist. So many things looked completely different when you got up close.

Nadia

We were briefed on the private jet that flew us from Miami to Lima, Peru, but it wasn’t as exciting as I’d anticipated. All of us were given folders with explanations about things like exchanging money and local customs. On this plane, the seats were wider and cushier, and arranged in a circle, like we were in group therapy. Everything smelled fresh, and the space looked new and spacious and clean, the opposite of our crowded commercial flight.

There were no flight attendants; everything was self-serve. In the back of the plane was a kitchen area, a counter with bowls of snack mix and salted peanuts, and a tray of assorted cookies. A small refrigerator held beverages and wrapped sandwiches. There were no assigned seats. We just sat wherever, and since there was no one to tell us to put our seatbelts on, no one did except for Mrs. Whitehouse. We had said hello to the pilot and co-pilot when we boarded, but now the compartment was closed and locked. I didn’t get the impression we’d see them again until the plane landed, although there was a phone right outside the door, so they could be reached in an emergency.

Once the plane was airborne, Mr. Specter got up to talk about Peru. “Who here speaks Spanish?” he asked. “Raise your hand.”

Jameson’s hand shot up and so did Mallory’s. Mrs. Whitehouse raised hers timidly. “I can get by,” she offered.

“How proficient are you?” Mr. Specter said, addressing Jameson.

“I’m fluent,” Jameson said. “And frankly, I find it hard to believe Russ and Nadia haven’t studied Spanish. It’s a valuable and useful language, and growing in use right here in the United States.”

Russ squirmed uncomfortably. Jameson really knew how to get to him. Russ said, “I took German. We have relatives in Stuttgart and we’re going to visit them after I graduate. I wanted to be ready.”

“I’m fluent in Spanish as well,” Mallory said, no hint of showing off, just stating it as fact.

“I speak French and Mandarin Chinese,” I offered. Knowing two foreign languages seemed impressive at home, but they’d be worthless in Peru unless we ran into some French or Chinese people.

“I don’t speak anything but English,” Kevin Adams said, slapping his thigh. “Unless you count Klingon or pig latin. But I make no apologies for my ignorance. English has done the trick for me so far.”

“I’m not asking to put anyone on the defensive,” Mr. Specter said. “I’m just trying to get a handle on our skills. We are going to be accompanied by a guide assigned to us by the Praetorian Guard, a Peruvian gentleman named Alejandro who speaks fluent English as well as Spanish and Quechua, so no one needs to worry about knowing the language since we’ll all be together all the time.”

“Quechua?” Jameson asked.

“The second most common language in Peru,” Russ said, leaning toward Jameson and speaking directly to him. “And the most widely spoken native language. It was the language of the Incas. Today, thirteen percent of the population speaks it, mostly in the Andean regions.”

“Someone’s done their homework,” Mr. Specter said, approvingly.

“Yeah, I can look things up on Wikipedia too,” said Jameson.

Mr. Specter said, “Keep your passports on your person at all times. I can’t stress this enough. Unless you’re sleeping, you should have your passport with you. Keep it somewhere safe. You don’t want to misplace it or have a pickpocket lift it. Got it?”

We all nodded in unison.

“Moving on,” Mr. Specter said. “You will find that the food in Peru is delicious. Potatoes are often served as is seafood, including ceviche, which is a dish typically made from fresh fish marinated in lemon or lime juice. We will also, I believe, have the opportunity to eat cuy, something you all know as guinea pig.”

Mallory wrinkled up her nose. I knew from previous conversations that she’d had a bunny as a kid. A guinea pig seemed like a shorter-eared version of a bunny.

Kevin Adams added, “They call it that because of the noise it makes. Kwee, kwee, kwee.” He chuckled.

“I’m not eating it,” Mrs. Whitehouse said. “I’m against eating pets.”

“Ah, but you won’t know,” Kevin said. “They very cleverly hide cuy in other things. Cuy stew. Cuy kabob. Cuy casserole. You’ll have polished off your plate before you realize little Fuzzy isn’t in his cage anymore.”

Mrs. Whitehouse’s mouth dropped open in horror.

“Kevin, please stop.” Mr. Specter peered over his glasses in disapproval, and then looked at us. “He’s been this way since high school. He can’t resist poking the monkey.”

“Hey!” said Mrs. Whitehouse, offended by the monkey reference.

Mr. Specter returned his gaze to the rest of us. “Moving on. Don’t drink anything unless it’s bottled. And that goes double for water. The locals have adapted to the pathogens in the water and can drink it with no problem, but it’s not the same for us. And don’t eat any fruits or vegetables unless they’ve been cooked or peeled. I don’t want anyone getting sick.”

Kevin Adams held up a hand. “Sam, do you mind if I jump in here?’

“No, go ahead.”

“I just want to make sure I have the lowdown on everyone’s powers. As you probably know, when I was your age I had X-ray vision. Whitehouse here could heat things up just by touching them, and Mr. Specter could—”

“—Ancient history,” Mr. Specter said, sharply. “Not pertinent to this trip. Move it along, Kevin. And let’s keep the conversation in the present, shall we?”

Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Okay, then, someone’s a little touchy. Back to business.” He pulled a sheet out of his folder. “For Jameson, I have listed the ability to move objects with his mind, technically known as telekinesis. Correct?” He waited for Jameson to nod before continuing. “For Mallory, mind control. Nadia has empathic skills with the added bonus of being able to tell if people are lying. And for our star Russ, I have down, ‘can shoot electricity out of his hands and heal people.’ Did I get that right? Does anyone have anything to add to that?”

There were shared glances and shrugs, but no one mentioned my astral projecting or the fact that Russ could sense electricity anywhere—behind walls and coming out of outlets. Unspoken, we’d agreed to keep that information to ourselves. It was like the teenagers needed to have something on the adults. I also knew that Russ was starting to have success with mind control. But that was between us, and if he wasn’t going to bring it up, I wasn’t going to.

Finally Mallory said, “I think that covers it.”

Mr. Specter said, “Before I forget, this is very important—under no circumstances are you to use your powers in public, or even in private if there’s a chance it could be detected. This is just a fact-finding mission. We’re not looking for confrontations and we certainly don’t want to attract attention.”

“We know it will be hard for you guys to hold back, but it’s so, so important,” said Mrs. Whitehouse.

“And we need to stick together. Like a pack,” Kevin Adams said. “No mavericks allowed.”

“Remember, there’s safety in numbers.” Mrs. Whitehouse folded her hands in her lap.

Mr. Specter said, “On to the next topic. As I mentioned in the meeting at my house, our primary objective for this trip is to locate David Hofstetter, or in lieu of that, find information relating to him. A document has been uncovered showing a map of Peru and three different locations as designated by numbers referencing latitude and longitude. We believe this map and these locations are somehow connected to David.”

“Where did this document come from?” Mrs. Whitehouse asked.

“It was in the possession of Mr. Gordon Hofstetter at the time of his death.”

The answer didn’t satisfy her. She persisted. “Yeah, I get that he had it, but where did he get it? And how did you wind up with it?”

“Classified information,” Mr. Specter said.

“What, it just fell out of the sky and into your hands?”

“For everyone’s safety, I believe it best not to elaborate.”

“But
you
get to know?” She was indignant. “Don’t you trust us? How can we operate if we don’t have all the facts?”

Mr. Specter looked exasperated. Russ lifted one finger and spoke up, his voice slicing through the tension. “He got it from me. Mr. Hofstetter gave me the map, right before he died. He said it would lead to his grandson.”

“Again, this is classified,” Mr. Specter said, frowning.

Mrs. Whitehouse scoffed. “Yeah, yeah. I know. What happens on the plane, stays on the plane. No one ever wants to tell me anything.”

Jameson raised his hand. “Can I ask what our strategy is?”

“Strategy?” Mr. Specter pushed his glasses up his nose.

“We’re traveling to three locations, and then what? We just wander around looking for a guy who supposedly died sixteen years ago?”

Kevin Adams cleared his throat. “I’ll take this one, if you don’t mind, Sam.” He addressed Jameson directly. “Our ‘strategy’—,” and here he used finger quotes, “is to go to these locations, known hotspots for the Associates, by the way, and let the dogs loose. That would be all of you. Energy attracts energy. If there’re any of the Associates in the area, they’ll come out of their hidey holes to take a gander, you watch. And they’ll lead us to David Hofstetter, if he’s alive.”

Mr. Specter sighed in exasperation. “And now, I think enough has been said.” He gestured to our folders. “I won’t insult your intelligence by reading the information to you. We have several hours in the air. Make good use of that time and be sure to read the complete packet by the time we land.”

I turned my attention to my folder wanting to get the chore out of the way. It held what looked like standard class trip stuff: cautions about pick pockets, the water, food. The importance of staying with the group, and keeping our cover as students on a class trip.

Along with the standard stuff was a sheet outlining our objective. It showed the missing man, David Hofstetter, as he appeared sixteen years before, the year he was thought to have been killed in a car accident. The page gave his height and weight as just under six feet and 170 pounds. His eyes were green; his hair was brown and just slightly wavy, kind of like Russ’s. Also, like Russ, his power was listed as being able to discharge electricity from his hands. We’d been told that our powers would fade with age. I wondered how much he’d have left at age thirty-two, assuming he was still alive. I studied the picture of David. He was a good-looking boy, but nothing out of the ordinary. Heads would not turn if he walked into the room. Still, I liked the way he looked. In the photo he had a smirky grin, a little lopsided, but charming nonetheless. Kind of a sexy smile, to tell the truth. I tried to imagine him dating Russ’s sister, Carly—the two of them a couple in love.