Guardian Angel (5 page)

“I’m fine,” I insisted. “Besides, I think wearing this thing is making me better at balancing my power.”

Alia said seriously, “Cindy once told me that the better you are at balancing your power, the longer you live.”

“That’s probably true,” I said with a shrug.

“Then you should get better at it, Addy.”

I chuckled. “Do you honestly think we’re going to live to be old?”

“Who knows?” said Alia, frowning. “But we might.”

We sat silently for a while, huddled under our blankets, listening to the wind in the trees.

I had promised the Historian that I would try. I had said nothing about succeeding. The Guardians had spent years working to assassinate the last Angel queen. They were the second largest worldwide network of psionics, and it was only by a series of lucky breaks that they succeeded. In comparison, we were just five people cut off from most of the psionic world. Though we rarely said it out loud, we all knew, Alia included, that this was essentially a suicide mission. Still, my sister had a point: to assume failure would make trying meaningless.

I asked Alia, “When this is all over, and when we get Cindy back, where do you want us to live?”

“I don’t know,” said Alia, staring out the window. “Somewhere where it’s quiet. Somewhere where people don’t fight. Somewhere without guns.”

I grinned. “How about the moon?”

“Anywhere is okay,” said Alia. Then she looked at me sadly. “But I hope it’s soon. I miss Cindy. I miss her so much.”

“I know,” I said quietly. “I miss her too.”

Alia shook her head. “Sometimes… sometimes I can’t remember her, Addy. I mean, I can remember what she’s like, and I can remember the things she said to me when everything was dark, but…” Alia stopped to brush away a tear. “I can’t see her. I just can’t see her in my mind.”

“Don’t even try,” I told her. “Your mind isn’t important. Remember her here,” I said, lightly poking her in the chest. “That’s the only place it matters.”

Alia wiped another tear. “Do you really think we’ll see her again?”

In fact, we already knew exactly where Cynthia Gifford was. The Historian had told us that Cindy was now Lumina’s primary psionic hider. Being the world’s only psionic capable of covering an entire city in a single hiding field, Cindy was as valuable to the Angels as she had been to the Guardians, and she still lived in our old penthouse at the top of what used to be the New Haven One building. But we couldn’t just go in and take her back. Even if we could somehow beat the Angels’ security measures which included armed guards, bulletproof windows and an armored safe room in her penthouse, Cindy had already been converted, and her primary allegiance was to Randal Divine and the protection of Lumina. To forcibly remove her from the Angels could destroy her mind. The only way to safely break her conversion was to kill… the target.

“You want to know something?” I whispered to my sister. “I can remember Cindy very, very easily. I can see her anytime I want.”

“How?”

I smiled. “I just look at you. And yes, Alia, I’m absolutely sure we’ll see her again.”

Alia put her arms around my neck, and I rubbed her back until she stopped sobbing. It had been stupid of me to let Alia think that I doubted our chances. Sometimes, even false hope was better than none.

I heard tapping on the door window and turned to see James peering in at us. “Hey, let me in,” he said.

Alia let go of me, and I opened the door.

“Your shift isn’t for another hour, James,” I informed him. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

“It’s alright. I’m already up,” said James. Then he noticed Alia wiping her eyes. “Hey, kid, what’s the matter?”

Shaking her head, Alia managed a weak smile. “I’m fine, James. I’m alright now.”

As James got into the back with us and closed the door, I said to him, “Well, if you’re willing to take an extra hour, then I’m going to sleep. You keep my sister company.”

I carefully squeezed my way into the driver’s seat and tilted it back as far as it would go. Pulling my blanket over my chest and gazing up at the ceiling, I suddenly found myself face to face with Alia, who was crouching on the seat behind me and peering into my eyes. For a moment, she just hovered there, smiling serenely down at me. I was relieved to see that her eyes were at peace.

“Addy,” she said softly, “Cindy says goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” I whispered back, closing my eyes. “We’ll get her back, Alia. I promise.”

Two days later, Ed Regis decided that we had been on the road long enough to be certain there was no pursuit. We were once again headed for Wood-claw. Alia tortured Ed Regis with the “Are we there yet?” routine for six straight hours.

The approach was pretty much the same plan Ed Regis and Terry had agreed upon before our detour. We would find a hotel at the edge of the city and await discovery by Wood-claw’s finders, keeping a cautious lookout from a defensible position for unwanted guests.

But to get to this hotel, which was on the northern side of the city, we had to carefully circumnavigate the outskirts. Ed Regis insisted that we couldn’t drive straight through just in case we accidentally drove into Wood-claw. If our psionic powers were to suddenly flicker out as we passed through a hiding bubble, we could be inadvertently giving away Wood-claw’s location to enemy finders. Considering the size of the city that Wood-claw was hidden in, the possibility of this actually happening was truly minuscule, but Ed Regis was taking no chances.

“You’re really starting to think like a psionic, you know that?” I said to him teasingly.

“Know thy enemy,” Ed Regis replied tartly.

We arrived in the early evening. As we approached the hotel’s parking lot, Ed Regis said to us, “Okay, you all remember your new names? Let’s hear them.”

“Jack Tyler,” said James.

“Richard Anderson,” I called.

Alia chimed in, “Alyssa Anderson.”

“Tiffany Hendricks,” said Terry.

“Tiffany!” I laughed, remembering Terry’s new identity.

Alia started laughing too.

Terry glared at me. “How many fingers would you like broken, Richie?”

“Hey, kids, knock it off back there!” said Ed Regis. “Now, what’s my name?”

“Edmund Tyler,” we called in unison.

“Wrong!” laughed Ed Regis. “It’s Uncle Ed. Or Dad if you’re name is Jack.”

I was glad that we had done away with our old Guardian call signs, which I always considered embarrassingly stupid. Ed Regis had us pick out common names that started with the same letter as our real ones so that they would be easy to remember. After our run-in with the cops, I couldn’t keep Adam so I swapped it with my father’s name, which didn’t start with an A but would be easy enough to use. Alice became Alyssa, and Jason became Jack. Terry had been going by Tess, but even though the cops hadn’t heard that name, Ed Regis insisted that it had to be changed. But
Tiffany?!

The hotel Ed Regis had chosen for us turned out to be a white concrete five-story with an outdoor pool behind it, though it was closed this season. The parking lot was to the hotel’s left side, with two exits, one on each side of the block. Ed Regis considered this important in case we needed to make a quick getaway.

Parking just inside the rear exit, Ed Regis said to Alia and me, “Okay, time to take those rings off and get noticed.”

“With pleasure!” I said, ripping off my draining ring.

“Ooh! That feels so much better!”
said Alia, breathing deeply.

“You’re telling me!” After a week’s draining, the telekinetic power coursing through me was truly exhilarating. I felt ready to fly non-stop around the world.

Ed Regis handled the check-in while the rest of us stretched out in the lobby.

“I can’t wait to take a good long bath,” said Alia.

My sister wasn’t the only one. I felt really grimy after so many days on the road.

“Alright, I got us three twin rooms on the second floor,” said Ed Regis, returning from the check-in counter, “so that’s Richard and Alyssa, Jack bunks with me, and Tiffy can have her own room.”

As Ed Regis tossed me my room key, I grumbled, “Let the girls bunk together, and let me have my own room for a change. Why does Tiffy always get her own place?”

Terry grinned at me. “Because I’m older, taller and stronger than you, Half-head.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got more bones.”

Terry was wearing her decorative prosthetic hand, but the hotel staff had already noticed her shortage of real limbs. They were too polite to comment, of course, but I wondered if they were also polite enough to mind their own business and not talk to anyone who might cause trouble for us.

Ed Regis said to me, “Sorry, Richard, but the bait stays together. Anyway, we’re all going to stick close in one room for most of the time, so it hardly matters.”

Picking up our dusty backpacks, we headed up to our rooms. It was still too early for dinner, so we decided to get settled and cleaned up. The longer we stayed here, the greater the chance of being found. That was our objective, of course, but a risky one nevertheless. It made sense to take it easy while we still could.

Our second-floor rooms were side by side, balcony windows overlooking the parking lot. Aside from this essential feature, they were pretty ordinary twin rooms with small kitchens, wooden tables and mildly soft single beds: certainly no luxury resort. Still, it wasn’t every day that we got to sleep on real mattresses.

Alia lost no time running the bathwater while I opened up the windows and checked our escape route. While the tub filled, we went through our backpacks, pulling out all our clothes that needed to be washed.

“The bait stays together,” I muttered. “Why are we always the bait?”

Alia laughed.
“I liked it better when we were Hansel and Gretel.”

I didn’t, but life was simpler back then. Not much simpler, but simpler.

“How long are we going to stay in Walnut?”
asked Alia.

“Wood-claw,” I corrected. “And I don’t know, but it’d sure be nice if we could stay for a while.”

“You miss Candace,”
Alia said teasingly.

“Well, sure I do,” I said freely, knowing that denying it would only encourage her. “Just like you’re in love with Patrick.”

Alia threw a dirty sock at me.
“I am not! He’s just a friend.”

“Oh yeah?” I grinned. “Then why are you changing color?”

Alia decided to change the subject.
“Can I take my bath first, Addy?”

I telekinetically tossed her sock back. “Think you can keep it short?”

“No.”

“Then I get to go first.”

Alia moaned loudly.
“Please, Addy? I’ll keep it under an hour, okay?”

“Fine. Whatever.”

There was a knock on the door. Alia got up and opened it to Terry, who promptly slapped her on the head, saying, “You have to ask my name before you open it, Alyssa!”

“What’s up, Tiffany?” I asked mockingly.

Entering, Terry closed the door behind her and scowled at me. “You’re really asking for it, Half-head. Anyway, I just wanted to check out the view from your window.”

All three of us stepped out onto the balcony where, looking down, we saw Ed Regis getting into our car.

“What’s he doing?” asked Alia.

Ed Regis started the engine, pulled out of his parking space, and then re-parked the sedan right under our balcony.

“It’s almost like he’s expecting trouble,” I mused.

“The major’s right, though,” said Terry. “You can never be too careful, especially since you’re openly showing your powers now.”

“Wood-claw will find us first,” I said confidently.

Child psionics gave off a unique signature that any adept finder would be able to identify, and how many kid-healers were traveling around with a flight-capable telekinetic these days? I was certain that the Wood-claw finders would instantly know who it was. The only real question was how soon the cautious Mrs. Harding would be willing to come and collect us.

As Ed Regis got out of our car, a white van quietly pulled into the hotel’s parking lot from the rear entrance. We saw Ed Regis tense up slightly as he watched the van approach him, but then he calmly strolled over to its driver-side window. Ed Regis was well trained in blocking mind control, but we couldn’t see the driver from here so I probably wasn’t the only one holding my breath.

Ed Regis pointed up at us, and the driver stepped out. It was too dark to see him very clearly, but we recognized him. It was Scott, our eldest refugee soldier from Walnut Lane.

“Scott!” I called down. “Hey, Scott!”

“Adrian! Terry!” Scott shouted up to us. “Alia? Is that you?”

Alia, never one to raise her voice if she could help it, replied telepathically.

Ed Regis whispered something to Scott, who nodded and got back into the van. Scott parked next to our sedan, and then he and two others stepped out. One, I recognized as his girlfriend, Rachael. The other was a stocky, middle-aged man who I didn’t know by name, but I remembered as one of Mrs. Harding’s Knights.

Ed Regis led them around to the hotel’s entrance, and a minute later we were all gathered together in Ed Regis’s room.

“It’s so good to see you guys again,” I said, shaking Scott and Rachael’s hands.

The Knight didn’t greet us, keeping a mild distance and silently watching us with a cautious frown. I noticed that he was armed with a pistol holstered under his long jacket. Though we were all standing inside Rachael’s psionic hiding bubble now, at this distance, I would have sensed the Knight’s destroyer powers if he had any. But this man wasn’t a destroyer. Perhaps he was a controller or had some other power, or maybe he was entirely non-psionic.

“How did you find us so quickly?” James asked Scott.

I was wondering the same thing. We had all assumed that we would be here at least one night.

“I’ve been tracking you guys for a week,” replied Scott. “Ever since you got close to us and then disappeared.”

“You’ve been tracking us?” I asked. “You personally?”

“That’s right,” said Scott, grinning. “I came into my power just after we arrived at the mountain camp. And I’m actually pretty good with it already. I can do long-range and pinpointing.”