Elevated (Book 1): Elevated (4 page)

DING!

The screen updates again. The crowd rustles and I force a peak through an elbow to see the next group of statuses. A507, A508, A513, A515, A516, A518, A519, A520, A524, A527, A528, A532 all show “undetermined.”

Poor Lillia.

The dozens of anxious parents moan and sigh. Based on the numbers, some of them have been here for hours, waiting to hear if their children are destined for greatness or will scrape by like everyone else. I can’t help but overhear a woman next to me. She’s caressing her husband’s back, his face buried in his hands.

“You didn’t discover your ability until you lost your arm. Lillia will be fine George.”

George struggles with his words. “She deserves more. More than me. Waiting ten years, watching others run, swim, fly. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Their eyes stay fixed on the screen, holding back tears, staying strong for each other. I follow their lead and turn to the screen. I can’t imagine how they must feel. Anyone could go mad waiting in a stifling room like this, listening to the blend of easy listening music and whining kids.

Elliott’s number still isn’t up. I can’t say why I’m so concerned. We just met. But he’d been so happy. He deserves to be rewarded by a system he defended so strongly.

DING!

The screen flashes again. A536. Lungs tightening, I scan over to his status:

Undetermined

Crap.

My shoulders fall. After the excitement, Elliott is going to be at best average. At worst a Lesser.

A voice comes over the loudspeaker system, interrupting a calm saxophone solo. “Attention please! GEMO subjects A505-A536 will receive a 15-minute break. Undetermined subjects should remain behind the safety line.”

When my aunt received her treatment, I became very acquainted with the safety line. The line meant danger. She had to stay behind where we couldn’t hug or even touch. I panicked that she would be taken away like Dad. In the end, a power didn’t turn up, and they released her. She refused to say much to us after that day. I’m not even sure where she lives now.

The doors open and a group of GEMO subjects exit. The stable subjects hurry beyond the safety line and into the arms of their parents. The burly man scoops Zach into a bear hug, which jostles his jacket open, revealing his new wings. Feathers of blue and orange accent his dark skin beautifully.

“Wow, Son! Give ‘em a good flap!” he says.

Hard to believe the quiet student next to me in History class is now a Flier. I shake my head. Now girls everywhere will chase him like a rock star. This is the crazy world of GEMO.

Zach blushes and closes his jacket tight as if undressed. “Dad! I still have to go to training. Until then, no wings.”

“Fine,” the father says. Then he leans down and whispers, “I know a quiet field where we can practice.”

Probably making plans to train at night at Fowler’s Grove. I catch novice Fliers practicing at night when I go out to see the glowdaisies. They pick a few to use as beacons since their light is visible from the air.

Subjects keep pouring out of the doorway. Stable ones come first. They race and skip into the waiting room. Next, come the cautious steps of the Undetermined.

“You’re doing great, Lillia!” George calls out to his daughter, a girl with flowing black hair and smoky eyes.

She manages a little wave, but it’s clear she’s not having a good day. Behind her, a boy in a chocolate fedora inches out. He stands right behind the safety line.

“Elliott!” I call out.

An older woman staggers over to meet him. I’m not sure what I’m doing here. This is a time for families to get together. Share hugs, exchange tears. I don’t even know him that well. I’m about to leave when he waves me over. As I walk towards him, the woman steps right over the line and wraps him in her arms.

 “Grandma,” he says. “You’re supposed to stay over the line.”

She laughs. “And what do you suppose they’ll do, shoot me? At my age, I can afford to take my chances. Don’t need them telling me what to do.”

After a quick squeeze, he breaks the hug and gestures towards me. “Grandma, this is Rose. I met her in line.”

Her face lights up. “Met her in line? And out already? You must be one of the lucky ones.”

She gives me a wink.

I feel pale. “No I—”

“She’s undetermined,” Elliott says. “Like me.”

“Don’t let that get you down. Abilities emerge late sometimes. But you know that,” she says.

Elliott sighs. “Only hope I’m not stuck here for weeks.”

“How long did it take for your uncle?” I ask.

“My uncle?”

“The Spitter.”

Elliott frowns. “I thought we moved on from that.”

“Elliott. You didn’t tell her about Uncle Hubert did you?” his grandmother asks.

“Yeah, it, he, it came up, ok?” he says.

I want to curl up into a ball.

His grandmother puffs up her chest. “You did make sure to mention your parents and the tremendous success they achieved, right? I’m sure Elliott has the same Ford family potential. Hubert always was a pesky little scrawny thing.”

“Grandma,” he says.

“Sorry dear, but I’m an honest woman. He was so pitiful a ceiling fan could knock him over.”

“Grandma, do you need to—”

“None of us were entirely surprised when he turned out, how shall I say, disappointing? But there’s a failed bud in every rose bush. That’s why I told you, Elliott, ‘Stop worrying. You aren’t going to end up a Lesser.’”

Elliott face indicates he’d rather be anywhere else. “Grandma!”

A monotone voice silences the room. “Attention please! We ask that all Undetermined please return to the test centers at this time. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Elliott smiles, probably relieved to be getting out of this conversation. “Ok, test time.”

“And you too, my dear,” says his grandmother, nudging me over the line. “Walking right over the line indeed, I like your spunk.”

I fight against her push, but Elliott tucks his arm under my elbow and leads me to the other side.

“I don’t need to—”

“Oh don’t be so modest. Rose says she’s sure of her power. But we need to learn it officially first.”

“I’m not.”

Everyone around me glares back. If I bolt, they’ll think an Undetermined stormed out. It could create a panic. To them I could be an Unsound or something. I decide to let Elliott escort me into the hallway.

“What was that about?” I ask as we head down a narrow hallway.

He stops, letting the other kids pass.

“Don’t you see?”

“What?”

“This is your chance. Tell them you were in the bathroom or something-”

Elliott grabs my arm, trying to lead me to the treatment room. I pull away. “No.”

“You can’t want to be a—”

He goes silent.

“What? Can’t want to be a what?”

Elliott looks away. “Don’t you understand? My grandmother is desperate to unlock an ability. And here you go walking away. And in a few years, where will you be?”

“I wonder what your grandmother will say if you find out your power is spraying ink.”

“That’s not what’s going to happen.”

“Right. It couldn’t happen to you. You’re like everyone else, Elliott. Act all modest. Deep down hoping you’ll get some big power.”

He starts to walk away. “Goodbye.”

 “Maybe you’ll get the ability to spew foul smelling spray from your butt. I think I saw that on that show, My Ability Stinks.”

His face gets red. “Rose!”

“Or maybe you won’t get anything? Elliott, a failed bud.”

I stand there, panting, horrified by my own words. He clenches his fists. If I were a man, he’d have decked me by now. His eyes widen. There’s a bright flash of blue.

SMACK!

My body hits the ground hard. There’s a tingling sensation all over. My head throbs with a rhythmic pulse.

Elliott’s voice shudders. “Are you ok?”

“Stay back.” I crawl away from him on the floor.

I’m not sure what happened. I hadn’t felt his hands on me. A strange jolt knocked me over that I can’t describe. It surged through my body. Picking myself off the floor, the stinging pain fades. A surge of adrenaline brings an urge to run from my attacker. “Do you have some sort of electric spark?”

His horrified face reveals he’s as confused as I am. “I didn’t t-t-touch you. Besides, they tested me for electricity.”

“You have something, that’s for sure.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t, I had no—”

“No. I’m sorry,” I say, walking over to him. “I shouldn’t have been such a jerk.”

“You didn’t knock me to the floor.”

My balance still isn’t normal. I start to fall over and he catches me. I jump back instinctively. “I wonder what that power is. Get them to focus on your hands. Could be good when you get it figured out.”

“Hope so. I don’t exactly want to go around zapping people to the floor,” Elliott says.

I flash him a smile. “You could always join the Xtreme Power Warriors. You’d be a ratings bonanza.”

Elliott smirks. “Don’t think anyone would want to see me in a tight spandex outfit.”

We laugh.

After a moment, I remember where I am. “Ummm, is there any way for me to sneak out of here without someone worrying why I’m back here?”

Elliott pauses. “You really aren’t going to do it are you?”

I shake my head.

“Since you cancelled, the system has you as done for the day, so you should be able to leave any exit. There’s one down that hallway to the right.”

“Thanks.” Before I reach the exit, I stop myself to turn and wave goodbye. A part of me wishes he would have had given his phone number, or that I would have been brave enough to ask for it.

After a few turns, I reach a long hallway. A figure stops and glares over at me. Mom. I haven’t seen her so upset since they took Dad from us. She runs out and hugs me.

“We were looking for you everywhere! I-I can’t believe it. Why were you cancelled?” Her watery eyes cut into mine and she finds the answer. She starts crying again. “How could you do this?”

“Mom, I won’t talk about it. Not here anyway.”

She breaks off the hug. Her voice is louder now. “We will talk about it.”

I gesture my head to show Mom the gathering group of people eavesdropping on our conversation. “Mom. Just take me home.”

After I make it clear there is no way I can convince them to let me back in the line now, she caves. Now to brace myself for the long ride home.

***

When I get to my room, all I want to do is snuggle in blankets and cocoon away from the world. Away from mutants. Away from Elevation Day.

The ceiling of my room glows with my father’s stars. They fade as my exhausted eyes close shut. The room is quiet and there are no distractions from needed sleep. Nothing except Mr. Roberts fidgeting in his desk chair in the next room. He always squirms around. Drives me crazy. I’m trying to fall asleep, but Mr. Roberts begins scratching his stomach. I groan as he moves his hand towards his back and further down. Doesn’t he realize I can see him? Why is his light still off?

I spring up, knocking over the pot of African violets. Mr. Roberts isn’t in my room. He’s in the room next door. Somehow, I can sense what’s going on. Like shadows in my mind. But I can see it. I could recognize Mr. Roberts’s shadow anywhere.

But how are these images in my head? I take a deep breath. A loud bark comes from the hallway. It’s Atom, Mr. Roberts’s pet poodle. Atom growls at the door, pawing at it to get inside. I’m not going to let him in. Atom loves my ankles. I had to start keeping my door shut to avoid getting gnawed on at night. It’s hard covering up bite marks on your ankles. Wearing high socks to school makes you an easy prey for teasing.

Mr. Roberts whistles. “Atom! What’s wrong with you?”

I stare at the ceiling again, trying to find focus in the chaos. After a minute or two, Atom calms down. I begin to wonder about the strange shadows in my brain. How did I see Mr. Roberts? I think about him and there he is again. Now he’s standing at his desk. Atom growls again. What is going on?

The shadow in my head is clearer. Mr. Roberts exits his study, enters the hallway, and scoops up Atom. He staggers to the end of the hallway, down the stairs and fades into darkness. I can no longer see him.

I don’t have a power. I can’t. I wasn’t zapped. This is in my head. It has been a long day, that’s all. I repeat the mantra until eventually my tiredness wins out and I fall asleep.

CHAPTER FOUR

My daily school alarm soaks me. Can’t believe I forgot to disable it. It’s one of those annoying alarm clocks that squirts you with water when you hit snooze too many times. Aaron bought it for me. Still not sure why we’re friends.

I try to fall back asleep, but my mind keeps racing about the day before. Did I really see through a wall? My fingers find my phone and I shoot Aaron a text. A second later—always impressed with how fast he can type—I get a response:

“Jerk! Still sleeping! Get back to bed! School is out!”

As comfortable as my bed is, my brain won’t relax. I head to the bathroom and grab a comb. If I let my soaked hair dry like this, I’ll look like a fox that got caught up in a dryer. I yank a few tangles out, groaning at my furry red mess.

“Up already?” my mother calls from downstairs.

Having a mother with the ability of exceptional hearing is annoying. Hard to feel there’s any privacy when your Hearer mom can detect a pin drop anywhere inside the house. This is why I spend so much time outside. That, and Mr. Roberts.

Finally, I give up the fight and resign myself to another bad hair day before getting dressed and heading to the kitchen. The cupboard holds the same junk Mr. Roberts always stocks on the shelves: celery chips, vegetable juice, and those dreaded bran muffins. Instant gag. I smile inwardly as I watch Mr. Roberts doing his morning exercise routine, straining to keep up. It’s hilarious.

Unfortunately, it’s once again a shadow of what is going in the next room.

I drop the bowl of nuts in my hand.

“What was that?” my mom asks from the laundry room.

My shaking hands struggle to pick up the scattered nuts. “Sorry, I dropped something.”