Exposed (10 page)

Frank rejoined the group—sans flashlight fingers—near to bursting with pride at his power.

“That was neat, Frank!” Meg offered.

“Yeah,” Cora said. “Wow.”

Ivan frowned. “But it’s not exactly useful,” he added.

Frank balked. “Not useful?” He strobed his fingers and only succeeded in making Meg and Will throw hands over their eyes. “I have
light
coming from my
fingers
. I’d say that’s darn useful.”

Ivan pulled a small flashlight from his pants pocket and clicked it on. “That’s what a flashlight is for.”

Frank pouted and June came to his rescue. She rubbed his shoulder, and the eager man had to duck his head to hide how he grinned at her touch. 

“Ivan’s just being mean,” June said, sliding a glare his way. “Like usual. I think it’s a fantastic power.”

Frank let his smile show and then slung an arm around June. “Thank you, Junie.”

She squirmed under the weight of his touch and tried to wriggle away a bit, but didn’t push his arm off.

Ivan stared her down. “Come on. Do you really think that?”

June used the excuse to step away from Frank and crossed her arms over her chest. “How do you know what I think? And if you’re such a judge of powers, show us yours.”

Ivan clenched his jaw, but went silent.

Clayton filled the tense silence. “How about I go? Just …,” he stooped to pick up a small bag, and when he righted Ivan didn’t miss the flash of anxiety clouding his eyes. “Just stand back, okay?”

He pulled a cut flower out of the bag and gripped it in his hand, his jaw tight and eyes narrowed. The head of the daisy drooped, the petals wilting and turning brown. The leaves dried up and crumbled and the flower’s stalk shriveled in on itself. Ivan’s eyes went wide. In the flower’s place, a glowing blue orb floated in Clayton’s palm. It seemed to hum with electricity, the surface of the orb crackling and sparking. 

“Ready?” Clayton didn’t take his eyes off the blue orb.

“There’s more?” Frank sounded incredulous.

Clayton concentrated, and behind him, Cora whispered encouragement. Energy forked through the air, making Ivan’s hair stand on end. Nervousness bubbled up through Ivan. This wasn’t like Frank’s power. This was something much, much more. 

The ball on Clayton’s palm floated upward, until it was level with his face. He planted his legs wide, wound up, and threw the blue orb. It shot through the air and disappeared down a tunnel. The blue light faded until there was a deep, rumbling boom. Flecks of dust showered from the mine’s ceiling.

Clayton turned to face the group, a crease between his eyes and his jaw tight. “So that’s mine.”

Silence met him.

“That’s …,” Ivan said. He was in awe of Clayton’s immense power, but something deeper coursed through him. In the wrong hands, left unchecked, Clayton would be unstoppable. “The flower, did you kill it?”

Clayton couldn’t meet his eyes when he nodded. “My power is dangerous,” Clayton said. “It’s taken a lot to learn—”

A gasp cut him off. Across from Ivan, Meg shoved her hand against her mouth and clenched her eyes shut. Next to her, Will clutched at her other hand.

“My power,” Meg whispered. “It feels like that. Like energy building inside of me until I feel like I might just burst.”

“What do you mean?” June asked. She crossed to her friend and laid a hand on her shoulder.

Meg’s face was so pale it shone like the moon. “My power. It’s terrifying.”

“Can you try to show us?” Clayton’s voice was soft.

Meg chewed at her lip, squeezed Will’s hand harder.

“Go on,” Will said. “Maybe they can help.”

Meg froze for a long moment, then nodded. “Get back against that wall. You too, Will,” she said when he hesitated.

She stood alone in the light of the fire and smoothed her trembling hands down the front of her pale pink dress. After a deep breath, she closed her eyes and started shaking. 

It was barely noticeable at first. Ivan was staring intently, yet he nearly missed the way Meg’s cheeks vibrated, the way her dress rustled where it swirled around her knees. But then the shaking grew more violent, until Meg’s entire body was vibrating. Her skin began to glow blue, like the blue of Clayton’s energy ball, but darker somehow, denser. The light swirled around her, obscuring her tense features. 

The hairs along Ivan’s arms stood on end and the air around him smelled tinny, like an oncoming storm. 

And still Meg burned. Ivan took a step closer, fear flooding his body. Meg needed to stop. Ivan knew that all the way deep into his bones. Meg was going to hurt herself, hurt them. Yet still she burned. The air pulsed, pressing against his eardrums … or was that the rumble of the earth around him?

“Enough,” Will shouted.

Meg gasped and nodded. She seemed to gain strength by staring at Will. Slowly, the midnight blue haze surrounding her body receded. Was she drawing it back into her body? How could anyone survive, with that pulsing pressure inside of them? 

Meg stood woozily before them, her eyes haunted. “See?” she managed before she collapsed to the floor.

Without thinking, Ivan rushed to Meg and helped her to sit up. She blinked up at him, blearily. Will muttered a thanks to Ivan then pulled Meg into his arms. He rocked her back and forth, whispering into her hair. Ivan stepped back farther, away from the couple. The air still snapped with unspent electricity. 

“It’s hard for her to control it,” Will explained to the others hovering nearby.

“Mine was too,” Clayton whispered. “It still can be.”

Ivan’s whole body felt tight with worry and fear. For these powers he was seeing, for what others would do if they knew. 

“If people saw how dangerous these powers are …,” he said quietly. “And you’re saying your ability is uncontrollable?”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Meg said, bite at the edges of her voice. “I didn’t even want Will to know.”

Will rubbed Meg’s arm where he still held her close and glared at Ivan. Why had he rushed in to try and help her? It was obvious she didn’t want his assistance or opinion.

June shook her head dismissively at Ivan. “Maybe try to show even a bit of empathy, Ivan.” She laughed harshly. “If you can, that is.”

Ivan cocked his head at June’s insult. He knew she was right, knew he’d been too harsh, but he couldn’t stop himself from snapping back. “I’m not going to ooh and aah and tell everyone what they want to hear. These powers have very real consequences. We could be ostracized,” Ivan snapped. “Or worse.”

“Or called heroes,” Frank said.

“No,” Ivan said, his voice growing forceful. Frank huffed in annoyance and walked away. But June was pressing her lips together and frowning, and when she met Ivan’s eyes she seemed willing to listen. 

“We’re different,” Ivan said, imploring them to understand him. “And people fear those who are different.”

It was Cora who spoke up. “He’s right.”

The group looked at her, and their faces softened. 

“For now, we’ll only tell those who also have powers,” Clayton said with a nod toward Ivan. “Telling others only comes after we’ve mastered our powers. Until we’re safe.”

But Ivan didn’t know if they’d ever be truly safe. He stood at the edge of the firelight and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Will broke the strained silence. He kissed Meg’s forehead before standing. “Well, I might as well show what I can do. Don’t worry—I’m just a danger to myself.” Then Will spun in a circle and disappeared. 

Ivan’s jaw dropped.

Cora squeaked and June’s hands flew to her mouth. “Will?” she called.

“Up here!” 

Everyone craned their necks to find the source of his voice, but he was nowhere. Frank fired up his fingers with a self-satisfied smile directed at Ivan, then shone them over the building. He spotlighted the ratty couch, more unlit barrels, wooden crates clustered into makeshift seating areas, and discarded beer cans. His flashlight fingers ranged over the space, but Will was nowhere.

Frank shone again across the room. He illuminated the ragged ends of a ladder hanging from the building’s loft, the last, broken rung fifteen feet off the ground, and across the loft itself.

“Stop!” June shouted. 

Frank moved his hands higher, and Will stared back at them. He stood at the edge of the loft. He had to be thirty feet above them.

“I think it’s called teleportation,” Will supplied the unspoken question. “Watch.”

And Will turned on the spot and disappeared again. A fraction of a second later, he popped back into existence at a spot high above their heads. Will hung in the air for a moment, his limbs splayed and his eyes wide. It was long enough for Meg to scream, then he dropped.

Will swung his arms, opened his mouth in a silent scream, and plummeted. He landed with a dull smack onto his legs and tumbled onto his face. Decades of dust puffed up around his body, and the boards under him groaned. But Will lay still and silent.

“Will?” Meg’s voice was a shadow. 

Clayton echoed her, fear edging his tone. He crossed in long steps to his older brother and stooped at his side. Clayton laid a hand on Will’s back, and the older Briggs brother gasped.

Will groaned and tried to push himself up to his hands but fell back to his face. Clayton hooked an arm under his shoulders and heaved his brother upward to stand. Will hissed in pain and lifted his left foot off the ground. Frank ducked under Will’s other arm and the two of them helped Will hobble over to the ratty couch.

Meg fussed over him, trying in vain to dust off the old couch before giving up and smoothing Will’s hair.

“And that’s my power,” Will croaked. “It’s been a bit of a learning curve.”

Ivan started to laugh harshly but caught a glare from June and swallowed the end of the laugh. Was he as she had accused? Was he really so apathetic to laugh at someone else’s pain? And even worse—was that really what she thought of him? He hated that he cared. Ivan looked down and ground his teeth together. 

Clayton broke the strained quiet. “June, do you want to show your power?”

Ivan’s head snapped up.

He watched as June nodded once and squared her shoulders, like she was centering herself. Tapping into her courage. Then she started running, running straight for the wooden wall behind Ivan. June flew past him, so fast and so near his hair ruffled. Ivan spun and reeled forward, almost trying to grab June.

Her feet pounded against the creaking floor, and still she ran. Closer and closer to the wooden wall. Ivan winced and clenched his eyes nearly closed, but he couldn’t quite look away. June hit the wall, and then she was gone. Gone
through
the wall.

Ivan gasped, and he wasn’t the only one.

June reappeared from the same spot she’d disappeared. The wall around her grew hazy, like heat rising from pavement on an August afternoon. She was hazy too, her lines indistinct and blurring with the wooden planks. But her face—Ivan marveled at the way her brown eyes sparked with energy, with excitement. She smiled wide, a smile that spoke of sunshine. 

In that moment, Ivan saw beyond the careful face of the girl he thought he knew. Gone was the placid smile and the serene expression. This wasn’t the snapping anger he’d drawn from her before. It was something deeper, more intimate. June absolutely glowed with bravery and a deep well of something Ivan wanted to explore—he caught a glimmer of adventure that he’d extinguished within himself long ago.

“Does it hurt?” Meg asked.

June pressed her lips together for a moment. “I can feel it,” she acknowledged.

“Do it again,” Frank demanded.

June nodded and ran through the wooden siding once, twice, a third time. But she winced when she came through the last time, and her cheekbones were raw and red.

“There’s a metal door in the back,” Frank said. “Do you think you could go through that?”

June tried for a smile, but it was hesitant, and she limped just the tiniest bit when she walked. “Um …,” she said. Her voice was a bit rough and she tried to clear her throat but started coughing. “I guess I could try, but—”

“Just stop!”

Ivan shouted before he’d even realized. Frank glared at him, but Ivan stood tall next to June and crossed his arms over his chest. He dared anyone to come closer, to hurt June more.

“What is wrong with you? Can’t you see it’s hurting her!”

CHAPTER NINE

June

June wanted to sink to the ground and sleep forever. Her joints ached from running through the wooden wall so many times, and her cheeks were tender to the touch.

Ivan still stood close, close enough she could see firelight dance up his throat when he swallowed. Close enough she could reach out and touch the dark hair curled around his ear. God, she wanted to touch him so badly. 

Emotions roiled through her at Ivan standing so close, protecting her. Why? Why was he protecting her when she’d been so hard on him earlier? 

June’s cheeks pricked with a heat that had nothing to do with her power. She was never mean, but she’d been mean to Ivan. Here he was, the only person in her life she could think of who was giving instead of taking. Frank, Edith, her mother—all they did was expect things of her.

Something about Ivan made her bold, made her say things she never would out loud. He just made her so angry, with his scowl and his determination to see the worst in everyone. But a small part of June had to admit feeling angry was miles better than forcing happiness. 

 “Come on, June,” Frank said, pulling her from her reverie. “Don’t let Ivan boss you around.”

June tore her gaze from Ivan’s shoulder where he still stood guard in front of her and settled her eyes on Frank. That was rich, coming from him. He was the one making her demonstrate her power over and over.

“No, Frank. I’m done.”

“Awww,” Frank whined.

“Jesus, Frank,” Ivan snapped. “Leave her alone.”

Frank’s eyes went wide, and he immediately looked to June to tell Ivan to back off. But instead, she dropped her eyes, avoiding his stare. She was thankful Ivan was there to be the jerk for her. June wished she could do it herself, but the twisting in her stomach told her she’d have gone through the door again and again if not for Ivan.