Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (108 page)

But. And there was a but and it was a big one. I could show myself to someone else and get them to help me. Who wouldn’t want to save an unconscious girl from who knows what kind of horrible thing?

The closest person, proximity wise, was Dean, the janitor. He didn’t look particularly muscular, but he was big and he’d have the element of surprise on his side. Yes, he would do.

Take me to Dean.

He was right where we’d left him, still mopping, still sighing. I concentrated on making myself seen, and gave him a mental nudge to lift his head so he could see me. His eyes widened in surprise as I became visible. I said,
Dean, you have to help! The girl you saw being carried—

I stopped mid-sentence because Dean had started visibly shaking and then it got worse. His face grew white and a wet spot formed around his crotch, spread down his leg and ended in a puddle on the floor between his shoes.

I tried to reassure him.
It’s okay. I’m a real person. I’m just astral
—

But he didn’t stick around to hear the rest. Instead,
he turned and ran, screaming with the high-pitched wail of a little girl. No one would ever believe him, but I suspected he’d be telling this story for the rest of his life.

Take me back to Nadia.

We were in a cleaning supply closet. Shelves on one side held various bottles and jars of cleaning solutions. Leaning against the opposite wall was a jumble of brooms and mops, next to a bucket on wheels. And in the middle of all this there I was, flat on my back on the floor with the fake Secret Service agent kneeling next to me studying my face.

I materialized faster than I ever had before. I willed my astral projected self to fill the closet with my presence.
What do you think you’re doing? Get away from me!

This man did not react in fear like Dean the janitor, but he did look puzzled. “What are you?” he asked.

I couldn’t resist.
I’m your worst nightmare
.

He put his hands over his ears, like he was trying to shut out my voice in his head, but I had news for him. Wasn’t going to work.

Covering your ears won’t help.

Lowering his hands, he said, “I wasn’t doing anything to her.” He stuck out his chin defiantly. “Nothing at all. Just go away.” Pointing to the door, “Be gone. Leave me alone.”

And that’s when it hit me. He had no idea that the girl on the floor was me. Russ had recognized my likeness when I’d astral projected, and so had Mallory and Jameson, but they knew it was me from the start. This guy didn’t have a clue, which gave me a huge advantage.
I’m not going anywhere
, I said
. You need to leave this girl and go or you’ll be sorry.

He shrugged. “No can do,” he said. “I’ve got my orders.” He shook off his suit coat and pulled something out of the inside pocket, then fastidiously folded the jacket in two and set it on a nearby shelf. Now I could see that the object in his hand was a knife. He took off the sheath and admired the knife, looking at himself in the reflection of the silver blade.

I was afraid of him. Why wasn’t he afraid of me?
Stop.
I made my voice as powerful as I knew how.
Stop right this minute.

“Or what?” he said, bored. He ran his finger over the blade’s jagged edge.

I scrambled to come up with an answer, but I had nothing.

“I thought as much,” he said, and then as if, giving himself a pep talk, chanted, “The hallucinations never last. The voices aren’t real. The hallucinations never last. The voices aren’t real.” He took the knife and held it over my neck, like he had a rump roast in front of him and he was deciding where to cut. The stitches from my encounter with my mother’s knife stood out on my exposed neck. I could still remember the horror of the blade slicing into my skin and the feeling of blood flowing down my front.

I’m not a hallucination
. I said, frantically.
I’m a ghost
.

Now I had his attention. The knife still in his hand, he looked straight at me. “Like a dead person?”

Yes, I’m dead. One of your relatives has sent a message. She says
, I thought for a moment,
that she is disappointed in you. She wants you to change your ways
.

His face fell. “Nonny?”

Yes. She says it’s not too late. That you’re a good boy and you know better. Nonny says you should let go of the past. Terrible things happened to you when you were a little boy, but it wasn’t your fault and that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person
. The words poured out of me without any thought on my part. Where was all this coming from?

He whispered, “She always said I was a good boy.”

You can still be good and make her proud. Nonny says to put the knife away and leave the girl alone. And from now on, live a good life
. Something else popped into my head.
She also says you should go to a doctor and get help for the hallucinations
.

He stood up and pointed with the knife. “I should just leave her here like this?”

Yes. Just go. Leave the building as fast as you can and from now on choose to do the right thing. Make Nonny proud.

Russ

Nadia had said,
I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I need to know you’re safe so just leave the building and get as far away as possible. I love you but I have to go!
And:
Leave right now. Promise me!
But I hadn’t promised and I knew I couldn’t just run out of the room and leave everyone else behind.

I hesitated, feeling pulled in three directions. Part of me (most of me) wanted to find Nadia. Another part felt like I should go back and protect Layla. But the third part, reaching Mr. Specter and disengaging his machine, had the biggest pull and it was, I knew, the reason I was here.

The band played on, but I knew when the song was over, the president was going to thank everyone for coming and say good-night. According to Nadia, that was when the weapon would be activated. I needed to get to the back of the room and pushing through the crowd took too much time. I had to change my strategy.

“Back off,” I yelled. “I need some space.” I moved in a circle with my arms outstretched, letting off sparks as I turned. The people around me responded the way I thought they would.

“Ouch!”

“Ow!”

“What was that?”

“Stop it!”

Those who got shocked instinctively moved away from the pain. After I’d done a full revolution, a circle had cleared around me. Just what I was aiming for. Palms down, I let out an enormous blast, giving the impression of lightning coming off of both hands. The impact pushed me upward and forward. Once I was over the crowd, I realized I was going to fall short of my goal. If the room were empty I could have done another blast and given myself more liftoff, but there were too many people beneath me and someone was bound to be in the way. Killing innocent bystanders was never an option. I grabbed at the draped fabric that decorated the ceiling thinking I’d swing down like in the movies, but it wasn’t securely attached and when I fell, it came down with me. The only thing it did was slow my fall, but not by much. Below, spectators screamed as I landed in a crouch and scrambled to keep my balance.

A path had cleared between me and my destination. The patient, Mrs. Whitehouse as a man with a gray beard, stood next to the gurney while the doctor, Mr. Specter, regarded me with amusement. On either side of them stood several young men, including the guy posing as the older man’s son. Mr. Specter looked ridiculous in his fake hairpiece, mustache, and glasses. He looked straight at me and over the sound of the music yelled, “You’re late, Mr. Becker.” The same words he’d use when I used to arrive to his sophomore science class after the bell had rung.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the imposter son walked angrily toward me with palms extended. Zaps of electricity shot out of him and pelted me in the chest. It took my breath away. The guy outweighed me by a lot and his rage was intimidating, but his methods were all wrong. I was Russ Becker. At home that meant I was a second child in a middle class family in a small town in Wisconsin. But in a situation like this, it meant I had the upper hand. I’d been called a second gen, but that wasn’t technically correct. I wasn’t the second generation to experience the lux spiral, but I had been exposed to particles from the lux spiral once as a baby and again when I was fifteen. Every cell in my body had been infused with something special since I was a few months old. And shooting electricity at me was like handing me weapons.

“Woo hoo, how do you like that?” the guy crowed. Between the familiar look and the distinctive voice, I knew who I was dealing with. When the Associates had abducted Frank, they’d made me go through a series of tests before they would release him, and this guy was part of one of those tests. At the time I’d dubbed him Snake Boy because he had a python tattooed on the side of his neck. I’d defeated him and his friend, Wavy Hair, the day of the test, and I could do it again.

“I like it fine, thanks.” I sent his electricity right back at him, which took him off guard. He fell to the floor writhing from the impact. The air crackled from the current and onlookers scrambled for the exits.

Now I was the one walking with a vengeance, ready for the next attacker, an Associate dressed as a Secret Service agent. I realized as he got closer that I’d met him before too. Tonight his hair was slicked down, and he’d cleaned up pretty well in the suit and white shirt, but I would have known Wavy Hair anywhere. One of my worst memories was of him and his buddy knocking me down and repeatedly zapping me with electricity whenever I tried to get up. “Remember me?” I shouted, sparks flying off my hands.

“Meb-be I do.” Wavy Hair laughed. “I remember how easy it were to pin you down. Me and my buddy almost had you crying like a little girl.”

He threw a lightning bolt toward me and I instinctively ducked. Straightening up, I returned the favor, shooting electricity back at him. He wheeled around, deflecting my shot with one of his own. This was proving to be harder than I thought. From the floor, Snake Boy, screamed something unintelligible. It sounded like he was cheering his friend on.

I recoiled, ready to go again, when something above me whooshed through the air skimming the top of my head. Before I could even react, I saw that it was a thick rope with a tassel heading straight for Wavy Hair. In a matter of seconds, the rope wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his side and whipping around him with such force that he fell to the floor.

In the front of the room the band wound down awkwardly as they
finally
realized something was wrong. One final squawk of a trumpet and the music had silenced. A man yelled, “Everyone take cover!” Panic ensued—men in their tuxedos shielded their dates, everyone scrambling to get out of the room or at least away from me. I glanced up to see that one of the curtains was no longer being held back by its tasseled rope. Jameson cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled from the stage, “You’re welcome.”

Looking back I saw Mr. Specter flip the top off the gurney and pull out what looked like the nozzle from a gas pump. An enormous roar filled the air as he aimed the nozzle toward the front of the room. A stream of glittering bits moved slowly and deliberately through the air. Was it electricity or a liquid or something else completely? Like glittering confetti, the individual pieces revolved around each other within the deadly particle beam. I’d never seen anything like it. The beam was heading toward the stage where Secret Service agents were escorting the president and her family off the stage.

A collage of words went through my mind all at once.

Nadia telling me I needed to leave and adding,
You’re the only one I’m worried about. Be safe. I love you.

Mr. Bernstein introducing me as
Russ Becker, the miracle maker from Wisconsin
.

Carly saying,
I’m proud of you, Russ. You’re doing the right thing even though you know it might not end well
.

And President Bernstein:
I know I can rely on you
.

I knew what I had to do.

Nadia

When Nonny’s grown-up boy left the supply closet, I listened to his footsteps as he walked down the hall. When he broke into a run, I knew he was going to follow the instructions to leave the building as quickly as possible. I didn’t think he’d come back, which meant my body was safe enough for now.

Take me to Russ.

I’d hoped to find him in front of the building, or in a cab driving fast and far away, but instead I went to the ballroom where it was complete pandemonium. My heart sank. The elegant soiree was now a disaster scene. Frightened guests yelled and carried on as they pushed to get out. Secret Service agents tried to slow down the stampede to the doors. Russ stood in a clearing as if he were in a bubble. A few feet from him a man was lying on the floor with a thick rope wrapped around his midsection. His feet kicked weakly like a bug who’d been sprayed with insecticide. Behind Russ, another guy was curled in a fetal position on the floor, smoke rising off of him. On the stage in front, the first family was exiting out a door in the back shielded on all sides by protective agents.

And Mr. Specter, still in his Dr. Mitchard disguise, had activated his death ray beam and aimed it at the front of the room. The beam didn’t shoot out quickly like in science fiction movies. Instead it moved languidly, sparkling and rotating as it went. It was a beautiful but determined beam, created to search for life then snuff it out. There was no way to get away from it once you were in its path. In a minute, everyone in the front of the room would be obliterated.

Run, Russ! Go. Now!

Russ made no sign of having heard
me. Instead, he ejected himself in the air the same way he’d propelled himself onto my roof the night he’d given me the ring. He pushed off the floor using electrical currents from both hands and rose right in the path of the beam. When he met it, he blocked it with his own body. With his arms outstretched, it held him suspended in midair.