Supernormal (28 page)

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Authors: Caitlen Rubino-Bradway

Tags: #Superpowers

BOOK: Supernormal
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Ch. 31

 

It took more than a week, but Cam was finally allowed to go home.  Meg came with some clothes and shooed the nurse away so she could push Cam’s wheelchair on the way out.  Ashley went ahead to make sure Brody had the Jeep ready, and found Liz sitting on a bench by the curb.  Ashley hesitated, and then headed over.  “Hey.”

Liz jumped.  And moved—fast—her arm slashing out even as her head whipped around and she saw Ashley.

Ashley caught Liz’s arm lightly and let go before Liz could react.

“I didn’t—I didn’t hear you,” Liz said.  Her eyes were wide and her pulse was hammering in her neck.  “I’m sorry.”  She snatched her hand back.  “I’m sorry, you startled me.  I—I usually hear people coming.  Now.”

“That’ll happen,” Ashley said carefully.  “You’re going to want to watch out for Brody.  He’s pretty quiet, too.”  She glanced down at the bench, feeling awkward.  “May I…uh…?”

Liz scooted over, clawing a hand through her hair.  Ashley looked at her for a long moment.  She knew that expression.  “How is your, um, nose?”  Liz glanced at her, confused.  “It’s a little easier if you go by scent.  People don’t usually think about smells as much, but if you focus you can usually smell someone.  Before you hear them, that is.”

“My nose feels…normal,” Liz answered after a moment.

“They might not have had time to get to it.”

Liz’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and Ashley saw her fingers mold marks into the bench under her grip.  “You’re going to want to watch that,” Ashley said.

“I’m trying,” Liz forced out.  “I just…”  She shut her eyes, and her fingers dug in deeper.  “I’m having some…trouble.  Dealing with this.”

“I know,” Ashley said.

Liz looked up at her.  “How—how did you—?”

“Not well,” Ashley said.  She felt herself smile wryly.  “I’m still dealing with it, it’s kind of an everyday thing.  The best I can say is…just don’t do what I did.”

“What did you do?” Liz asked.

“Get angry.  So angry that you’re afraid you might hurt someone.  Then get so afraid that you can’t do anything at all.  I spent a year, almost, being angry and afraid.”

Liz nodded and looked away.  She let out a hard breath.  “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ll tell me the truth.”

Ashley nodded.

“Am I going to die?  I overheard them,” Liz said.  “The doctors Brody brought.  They were talking in the hallway, and I
heard
them.  They said the first group all died.  Their bodies couldn’t handle the changes, and started to reject them.”

The truth. 
“Not all,” Ashley said.  “Some of us went crazy and had to be put down.”

“They went crazy because their bodies were rejecting the changes,” Liz said.  “That’s what the doctors said.”

Ashley was quiet for a moment, searching for something.  “It’s been a while.  Since the first round.  I’m sure they’ve made improvements.”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

Ashley shifted to face Liz.  She hadn’t been much for hope either when she’d first come out.  But facts had helped.  “Proom didn’t have you for that long, and in the beginning the process is slow.  They only would’ve had time to do some basic stuff.  And not a lot of it.  The…problems increased the further along the—”
say it
“—kids were.”

“It felt like a lot,” Liz said dryly.

“I know, but it is still early stages yet.  Brody could talk to the doctors.  They might be able to undo it.”

Liz stretched out her hand, clenched and flexed the fingers.  “I don’t want to die.”

“Good,” Ashley said.

“I talked to the doctors, and my parents.  We’ve agreed that I have to…”  Liz’s fingers clenched again.  “I have to stay.  I can’t go to Berkley.  Brody convinced the doctors to stay here, make sure everyone can handle what they did to them.  If I want them to undo it, I have to stay here.  Besides, it—it wouldn’t be fair to go now.  Danny says I could, but that’s just him being Danny.  He doesn’t understand.  He’s always been able to do things other people can’t.  He doesn’t even think about it most of the time.  But I was normal, and I…”  Liz swallowed hard.  “I can
feel
what they did to me.  I feel different, I feel…sharper.  It’s not me.  I’m not me.  It wouldn’t be fair to go, get on that field, and be better than everyone else.”

“You were always better than everyone else,” Ashley said.

“Because I
practiced
,” Liz exploded.  “Because I worked at it, every day.  Because I wanted it—I wanted to throw it back in everyone’s faces, all those people that told me baseball was a
boys’
game and wouldn’t I do better in softball. 
Softball
,” Liz sneered.  “I was in eighth grade and Coach Parker told me that
girls
tried out for softball, so I went to the diamond every single day and I practiced and when baseball tryouts came I made him fucking choke on those words.  I did that—
me
—on my own.  I worked for it.  It
meant
something.”  She glared down at her arms.  “It wouldn’t mean anything now.”

No, it wouldn’t, Ashley thought.  “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Liz said.  “I’m angry.  I’m so…
angry
.”

“I know,” Ashley said.

Liz glanced at her.  “It scares me.”

“I know,” Ashley said.

 

Meg picked them up in her Jeep and drove them back to Sugar Beach through the late afternoon sunshine.

The ride wasn’t a long one, but it was…odd.  Comfortable, in a way.  The air was warm through the open windows, the fabric of the seat cushions hot against Ashley’s back as she watched the road slip by, and the water shimmering like a mirror under the bridge to Sugar Beach.  And then there were the familiar streets, and the sky, her sky, overhead, and the sunshine glowing along the sand.  It caught the gold in Meg’s hair as she turned to say something to Brody—quietly, though, because Cam had fallen asleep, and the sense of comfort and anticipation twisted together in Ashley’s chest until it was almost an ache.  This must be what people meant, she thought.  When they talked about going home.  She wanted the car ride to never stop.  She wanted to hold onto this feeling and make it last forever.

Brody caught her eye in the rearview mirror.  He smiled and she knew—he knew.  He understood.

When they parked in front of Brody’s house, Ashley climbed out and went to wait at the passenger side as Meg tried to gently wake Cam.

She felt Brody’s hand on her arm.  Callused and warm.  “You okay?”

She didn’t answer for a moment.

“Ash?”

Ashley looked at the house, with the weather-beaten siding and the squeaky screen door.  Brody liked to keep the windows open, and you could hear the surf from any room in the house.  “I used to have nightmares about him.” 

“I know.”

“I’d run and he’d follow, and it didn’t matter how far or how fast, he would always find me.  They used to scare the hell out of me.”

“You had it backwards.”

She had.  “I never thanked you,” Ashley said, looking up at him.  She said it even though part of her felt awkward and silly saying it.  “For giving me a home.”

Brody looked down at her, and he looked as sad and happy and hopeful as she felt.  Awkwardly, he slung his good arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.  He had never hugged her before.  Meg was the hugger—to everyone, all the time—but not Brody, and Ashley had always told herself that she was fine with that.  After all, it wasn’t as if he was her dad.

She didn’t think that now.  Now Ashley closed her eyes, and felt safe.

She opened them when she heard the cars turn up the street.  Brody kept his arm around her as the black car with government plates parked in front of their home.  Director Cole and Agent Phillips stepped out.

“Stay here,” Brody said.

“Brody—” Ashley began, but he squeezed her shoulder and smiled at her, and then crossed the street.

“You’re parked on private property,” Brody told them.  “I’m going to ask you to move.  Once.”

“We’re simply here to thank you,” Director Cole said, “and Miss Garrett, for a job well done.  We would like to speak to her, if she is amenable.  Mr. Scott, as well, when he feels up to it.”

“We don’t need your thanks,” Brody cut him off.  But he glanced at her.  She understood this one, too.  Her choice.

“They want to talk to us,” she told Cam.

“Who are they?” he asked.

The director reached into his pocket and removed a leather wallet, which he flipped open to reveal a badge and a federal ID.  “Gregory Cole.  This is Bennet Phillips.”

“They hired Proom,” Ashley told Cam.  “And they helped us get you back.”

“We only want a few moments of your time,” Director Cole said.

Ashley glanced at Cam.  His face was pale and drawn, and there were circles under his eyes.  She wasn’t sure if he took her hand, or she took his, but he squeezed her fingers.

The men crossed over to them.  Director Cole held out his hand to her, and then Cam, and they shook cautiously.  “Very nice to meet you, Mr. Scott.  Miss Garrett.  Agent Phillips and I have come to extend our sincere apologies.  We deeply regret anything you may have suffered while under the care of Zachary Proom,” Director Cole began.  “Though, of course, we know that no apology can be sufficient.  We can only say that we were deceived by Dr. Proom, both as to the extent of his research and the character of the man.”

“We never thought he would kidnap children,” Agent Phillips said, and then quickly looked away.

“You worked with him,” Ashley said.

“We took an interest in his work,” Director Cole said.  “We won’t deny that there is hope to put some of his research to a better use—which Agent Phillips is, himself, a testament to.  But we were not aware of the manner in which he was furthering his research.  Nor would we have condoned it if we had.”

“Well, now you do know,” Cam said.  “What are you going to do about it?”

“We will be…discussing matters with Dr. Proom, now that we have him in custody.  It seems we were not clear enough last time.  However, that is not why we’re here,” Director Cole said.  “We’d like to help.”

Ashley wanted to say
we can help ourselves
.  But she knew that wasn’t true.  Not with all of them.  Not with Liz.  “Help Liz.  Brody knows where Proom’s doctors are, the ones who survived.  Get them to undo whatever it is they did to her.  Help that way.”

“If that’s what Miss Bell wants, then, yes, we will.”  Director Cole made to head to his car and then turned back.  “We also wanted to congratulate Miss Garrett on a very impressive first effort.”

“‘First,’” Brody echoed.  The word was an iceberg.

Agent Phillips glanced at him, but Director Cole continued, “We would like to be in touch.”

“If I say no?” Ashley replied.

“It would be your choice.”

Her choice.  Part of her wanted to laugh.  “I’m not leaving.”

“You’re a legal adult, Miss Garrett.  Where you live is your choice, as well.  We would only ask you to consider helping us, from time to time.  Would you think about it?”

Ashley took a long, slow breath.  Felt the sun on her skin, and the breeze off the ocean, smelled the salt water.  Cam’s hand in hers.  “I think I’m going to go for a walk.”  She glanced at Cam.  “Not far, I promise.”

Cam smiled.  “I’d like that.”

“Back by dinner,” Brody told her.

“We will.  Nice to meet you, Mr. Phillips.  Director.”

“Enjoy your walk,” Cole replied.  “Let us know if you think any more on the offer.”

 

They didn’t walk very far, or very fast.  Cam was still getting his strength back.  But they walked until they wanted to sit, then sat until they wanted to walk again.  At the moment they were sitting, the dunes at their back.  Cam had raised an eyebrow when she held out a hand as he tried to sit, but accepted the help.  “I’m fine,” he’d said.

“I know.”

“You’re worrying.”

“Yeah,” she’d said.  “You’ll tell me if you get tired.  If we need to head home.”

Cam hesitated.  She saw him take in the sandy stretch of beach, the endless blue-grey of the ocean, and the way the sunlight gleamed along the waves.  His expression somewhere between fear and hope.  “I am home,” he told her.

His voice was quiet, but certain, and she’d slipped her arm through his as he leaned into her.

They sat, watching the sky turn orange, then pink.  The air turned cool, but she could feel the warmth from his skin. 

She looked at her scars, the ones Proom had given her, and the ones she had gotten a year ago.  It was odd.  In the waning light her scars looked…not faded, but fading.  Maybe.  Maybe she was just imagining it.  But they weren’t the same as when she first got here; they’d been fresh and pink then, and the ones from Jase still red and raw and aching.  The ache was still there, but it had settled in, like her scars.  It was an ache she thought she could carry.

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