Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (77 page)

Mitch said, “We wanted to vary the post-session suggestions so that some were long term, like the volunteering and the redecorating, and some were immediate, like the refrigerator. We’re going to have them fill out questionnaires every week and see if they followed through on the suggestions.” He gave Mallory an approving look. “Next week we’ll try subjects who are resistant. Once we have that data we’ll know how far we can take this.”

“How will they be resistant?” Carly asked. “Are you gonna drag them in off the street?”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” Will assured her. “The participants will still be volunteers, but they’ll be told ahead of time that someone is going to try to assert mind control on them, and that they should attempt to resist.”

Mitch came up and put his hand on my shoulder. “If you’re up for it, Russ, next I’d like to have you show us how you expel electricity.”

“I’m up for it,” I said. “Definitely up for it.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jameson giving me one of his looks. He was loving this.

“Great!” Will said, with an excessive amount of enthusiasm. “Don’t start until we give you instructions.” He strode over, picked up the ball, and juggled it back and forth between his hands. “I’m going to throw the ball up in the air, and I’d like to see if you can hit it while it’s in motion. Wait until it’s not anywhere near me, so you don’t accidentally electrocute me.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” I assured him.

Will laughed. “Well, after what happened to Mitch with the ball…”

“That was Jameson,” I said. “He has control issues.”

“Hey!” Jameson said.

“Okay then,” Will said, taking a few steps back. “Remember to wait until it’s far away from me.”

I nodded. “Got it.” I held my palms out, like Spiderman shooting a web.

Will swung the ball back and whipped it into the air. It sailed up, almost reaching the ceiling, picking up speed as it came down. Somewhere in there, Jameson cleared his throat, but I ignored him. Timing was everything. When the ball was halfway to the floor, I let loose. Electricity shot out of my hands in a blinding blast. I aimed my lightning bolt at the ball, instinctively allowing for the speed of the descent and I hit it straight on. My aim was perfect, but I miscalculated and put out more than was necessary: the stream of electricity obliterated the ball and kept going, hitting the stack of burial vaults behind it. Almost instantly, they crumbled and fell in a violent heap of concrete dust and rubble. The smell of burning rubber filled the air. The spectators had varying reactions, but all of them were amazed.

“Oh my word,” Rosie said, putting her hand over her mouth. “Very impressive.”

Mallory clapped. “Awesome, Russ!”

“Show-off.” Jameson punched my shoulder. He sounded a little proud actually, which surprised me. Man, he was a hard guy to figure out.

“I think we should all retire to the office area until the dust settles,” Mitch said, waving a hand in front of his face. “I hope this doesn’t trigger my asthma.”

Will hoisted the plastic container onto his shoulder and ushered us toward the door. As we walked I heard Dr. Anton say, “Good grief, I haven’t seen anything that impressive since David Hofstetter.”

Carly spoke up, “David could do that without even trying, and look where it got him.” I knew where she was coming from. She thought he’d perished in a fiery car accident, but the truth of what actually happened was almost as bad. David Hofstetter got stuck working in a laboratory for sixteen years while his friends and family assumed he was dead, and while his son was growing up without him. He left a big hole behind. Tragic, really.

But nothing like that was going to happen to me.

Russ

For weeks on end we continued these sessions, fine-tuning our powers and taking tests, some of which didn't seem relevant to anything at all, but Dr. Anton assured us that everything was important. Some of the tests reminded me of standard IQ tests; others required us to memorize schematics of the building where the Bash would be held. We were also instructed in etiquette, table manners, and ballroom dancing. All of us had to complete questionnaires asking what we’d eaten that day, how we slept the night before, and how energetic we felt on a scale of one to ten. Over and over again they stressed keeping a low profile so that we didn’t cause a panic. “People get trampled when a mob rushes to the exits,” Mitch said. “We don’t want a riot.”

During one of the practice sessions they had me shoot electricity from my palms down into the concrete floor to see what would happen. “Start out slow and easy,” Mitch said. “You can always crank it up later.”

I held my hands out and gave one short blast on each side, but instead of the electricity pushing into the floor, the opposite happened: I was propelled off my feet and forward. “Whoa,” I said, coming down hard. I gave the two instructors an irritated look. “Did you know that would happen?”

Both of them grinned like idiots. “We had an idea it might.”

“It would have been nice to know ahead of time,” I grumbled, thinking how close I’d come to falling on my face. Luckily Jameson was on the other side of the room practicing with a lasso or he’d have given me grief about it.

Mitch said, “Sorry about that. We didn’t want to say anything that might affect the outcome.” Neither he or Will thought this particular talent had a practical outcome, but it didn’t matter to me. Boosting myself in the air by shooting lightning bolts out of my palms was the coolest thing ever. I practiced over and over again until I could rise as high as twenty feet and as far as the length of the warehouse. Mallory applauded when she saw me and even Jameson looked impressed. Only Carly had a worried look on her face.

The testing for my healing abilities was not as exciting. The started me off with some easy cases. Initially, they had me heal a man with cuts on his arm, and fix a dog with a problem hip. Skippy was the dog’s name. He looked like a beagle mix, all ears, long body, and short legs. When he came in his head was down and his tail drooped. By the time I was done, his tail was wagging and he had a smile on his face. A proud moment for me.

Another test involved using my curative powers on mystery substances inside several different Petri dishes. It was hard for me to connect in those cases and I never found out the results.

There were about a dozen patients in all. After a while they stopped telling me the problem and wanted to see if I could figure it out. I think I did pretty well right from the start. The first time they brought in an elderly woman with a mystery ailment. She was seriously old with white hair and skin like aged leather. I scanned her body with my hands, letting them hover from head to toe, and determined that the problem was in her midsection, close to her heart. I did the best I could to infuse my energy into that area. She looked better by the time I was finished but they wouldn’t tell me if it worked.

My favorite training sessions involved the ballroom dance lessons. A tiny woman named (and I’m not making this up) Prima Donna came in lugging an ancient record player and a stack of vinyl albums. Her hair was dyed jet black and she carried a fan which she opened with the snap of her hand. “Like a flamenco dancer,” she said. She was easily seventy years old, but she could dance like nobody’s business. “You’ve heard of the Prima Donna Dance Studio, yes?” Most of her sentences ended with the word yes. She had a slight accent that I couldn’t place. We all reluctantly confessed to not having heard of her dance studio and she was appalled. “For shame,” she scolded. “The Prima Donna Dance Studio very famous. I train all the big names back in the day. Anyway, we begin, yes?” From the start Jameson stood out as the worst in the group. Mallory took to it right away, and I was, Prima Donna said, “somewhat trainable.” But Jameson’s long legs couldn’t stick to the rhythm, not even to save his rapidly drooping ego.

“Tell your smart brain to talk to your legs,” I said. “See if they can work something out.” Mallory and I were paired up for a waltz and having an easy time of it, while Jameson looked like he wanted to dismember me and make my body parts dance using telekinesis.

Prima Donna came half a dozen times in all. After the first three times Mallory and I didn’t need any instruction at all. We just danced. But Jameson never got any better. If anything he got worse, anticipating how Prima Donna would hit him with her fan when he’d make a misstep. I almost felt sorry for him.

Some of the other sessions involved learning facts about the government. In those cases, they gave us handouts to take home and memorize. Jameson was especially insulted when they asked us to memorize a sheet describing how the federal government worked. He looked down at the page and read aloud, “The federal government is made up of three branches: the executive, the judicial, and the legislative.” He looked up, irate. “What is this, third grade?”

“Just read it. I think you’ll find it has a new spin on the topic,” Will said.

As we were leaving that evening, Jameson crumpled up his sheet and tossed it in a wastebasket. When Mitch raised his eyebrows, Jameson tapped his forehead. “Trust me, I’ve got it. It’s all up here.”

Later lessons included topics such as security protocol at our nation’s capital, personal information about the presidential family, and the layout of the banquet hall where the event would be held. Carly sarcastically commented that I would be ready for a life as a politician or a party planner if the whole superhero thing didn't work out.

The tests that measured our powers—how far, fast, and accurately Jameson could move objects, or how much electric current I could generate in one go, seemed to fascinate the Praetorian Guard officials the most. A larger group attended these tests, mostly men in their forties and fifties, armed with devices which measured and recorded our efforts. On those days, Jameson and I got super competitive, spurring each other on to greater heights. Just seeing Jameson’s smug grin made me want to totally bring it, and I think I had the same effect on him.

At some point, Mitch and Will noticed us trying to one up each other, and it bothered them so they set up a different kind of test. “This time,” Mitch said, “we’re going in a different direction.” He rested a hand on my shoulder. “You and Jameson are going to be working together.” The exercise, he said, would involve Jameson moving an object through the air, and me obliterating it while it was moving. “Teamwork,” Mitch said. “Like a relay race, Jameson. You
want
Russ to be able to hit it.”

We started with a large beach ball, and when that proved to be too easy, switched to smaller and faster objects. The day Jameson shot a paperclip at top speed across the warehouse and I zapped it from thirty feet away was a proud day for both of us. Without even thinking about it, I found myself high-fiving Jameson. Somehow, we’d turned a corner. He could still be a jerk, but now we were on the same side.

At the same time we were double-teaming, Mallory was making great strides in mind control. Carly drifted back and forth between Mallory’s testing and mine, and gave me updates on the ride home. “She’s scary good,” Carly said, gripping the steering wheel. She glanced over to see if I was paying attention. “Don’t let her touch you, Russ. I mean it. I wouldn’t let that girl get within five inches of me.”

“It’s not like she’s going to do it to me without me knowing it,” I said. “She’s my friend. Besides, I can do a bit of mind control too, you know.”

“You haven’t seen her lately,” Carly said. “Your mind control is nothing like hers. Now she can implant memories and make people hallucinate. I overheard some of the guys from the Praetorian Guard say they’ve never seen anything like the three of you
ever
. And your powers seem to be increasing all the time. I’m afraid, Russ. I’m really afraid. After this, they’re not going to let you go.” She lifted a hand and I saw her wipe her eyes. “If you survive this mission, they will want more and more and more. You will never be able to have a normal life.”

We were both quiet for a moment and then I said, “I’m not so sure I want a normal life.”

She shook her head sadly. “Oh Russ, you have no idea.”

About three weeks into our training, Nadia was finally able to get away from her mom long enough to astral project to me. That night, I was already in bed, eyes closed and nearly asleep. I felt her presence and knew she was there. "Nadia?" I whispered. I didn’t need to talk out loud because she could hear my thoughts perfectly, but sometimes I forgot and fell into old habits.

She looked like a beautiful ghost drifting through the window. I watched her float to the foot of my bed, her image the same size as her body in real life but as ethereal as smoke. I knew that when she wanted to, she could enter a room invisibly, but she was also able to show herself at will. And with me, she always did.

Rus
s? she said cautiously. I sensed a careful happiness coming from her, the kind you have when you don't want to get your hopes up. I didn’t want to answer out loud so I switched to thoughts. My parents were downstairs and probably couldn't hear my voice, but it was better to be careful.

I sat up and asked,
What's wrong?

Nothing’s wrong. I’m just…

What?

Glad to see you. I wish I could really talk to you though.

We’re talking now.

I mean in person.

I know. But this is almost better, right?

I felt the equivalent of a sigh from her
.
She said,
It doesn’t matter if it’s better or worse. It’s all I can do right now. Believe me, my mother is tireless in her efforts to make me miserable.

I’m sorry,
I said.

I know.
She sighed again.
I don’t mean to be so negative. I’m happy to finally see you but this is all so virtual. I just wish I could touch you.

I felt her essence sweep through me like a warm breeze. As close to touching as we could manage at the moment
.