Reject High (Reject High: A Young Adult Science Fiction Series Book 1) (26 page)

I shined the source towards the back wall. Beneath a workbench, where Welker had laid a variety of jewel-cutting tools, was the
red
source. It looked like a giant sized nail made of crystal. To its right was a glowing globe – the
white
source, It was brilliant, like it was cut from pure, flawless milky diamonds.

Hanging from a rotating rack were necklaces, charms, bracelets, rings, earrings and broaches decorated with ruby-colored and white jewels – dozens of them! My brain couldn’t think of the curse words fast enough.

Sasha stared at me, as though she expected me to say something. After all, I’d saved her life and helped keep the green source from Welker and Peters. Except now we’d broken into our second house of the week, and this one held two potentially world-ending weapons in its basement.

“This is. . .bad,” she said, her eyes popping out of her head. “Really. . .
really. . .
bad.”

In the way-over-my-head moments of my life, this one topped them all. We knew about red ice but not the white kind – what does it do? Welker’s ring had both of them. Is that how he controlled minds? 

Sasha squeezed my hand, which she hadn’t let go of since we got inside. “What now?”

I had an idea.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I get to see my mom again

I’ve never been responsible until now.

Hiding three radioactive source crystals where nobody could find them was a big moment for me. Though I trusted Sasha and wanted to take her for the ride, I didn’t.

Pushing myself harder than I ever had since discovering my abilities, I found out that from home to Harleysville is a small fraction of the distance I can actually cover when I really try.

After I finished, me and Sasha stayed clear of any familiar places. We used our cell phones for five minutes to let our parents know we were alive and okay. Sasha’s dad was still out of town, and Joyce sent back a two-letter text to staying out overnight with her boyfriend: “OK.”

“I could have told her we were going on a killing spree and she would’ve said the same thing,” she joked. 

Debra, on the other hand, rambled on and on. “And Dee. . .” she said. “She went by the apartment. Some officer’s staking it out.”

An officer? Spivey? “I gotta go,” I hung up.

“What about Ray?” Sasha asked.

“No,” I said. I wasn’t going to bother texting him.

I sent a message to Rhapsody, hoping for a response. I couldn’t wait any longer and had to turn off my phone and take out the battery. Sasha wanted to text Selby, but a bigger part of her decided not to do it.  

We knocked lightly on Aunt Dee’s door around 3 a.m. Monday morning, when darkness covered the street. Sasha stayed close, in case someone found us and I needed to go supersonic at a moment’s notice.

Weary, Debra opened the door and greeted us both with a hug that lasted forever.

“We thought you were dead,” she said, finally letting go. She stared at the burn marks on our clothes and tried not to gag from the scent of gas on both of us.

“C’mere, Sasha,” she said, holding out her hand. “Let’s get you a shower and something to wear.”

I hadn’t noticed, but the fire had eaten a good deal of Sasha’s sundress in spots. As she walked away, I could almost see her underwear showing from the back.

A half-hour later, Sasha had cleaned up. Gauze covered the burns on her legs and shoulders, and she wore some of my clothes – a white Raiders t-shirt and a black pair of matching athletic shorts.

“You like?” she asked, modeling for me.

Debra gave me the death stare, so I didn’t respond. I hiked upstairs, showered, and changed. When I returned and sat, Debra snapped her fingers. “Talk.”

Starting with the source, we told her everything we’d found out about Welker’s plot. “He wanted the green source,” I said. “It’s what he was after all along.”

“He didn’t know where it was,” Sasha chimed in. “Cherish found it, but she was schizo and he couldn’t read her mind about it.”

I thought about Rhapsody, wherever she was. “Welker somehow convinced Cherish to kill herself. By then, she’d given her prism to Rhapsody, who learned to use it to turn herself invisible.”

“Alright.” Debra seemed to be following. “Please continue.”

“Peters worked for Welker and tested us to see what we could do,” Sasha added. “When he found out we knew the location of the source, he wanted to use it for himself and got Selby to help him harvest the prisms.”

All of this time I’d been jealous of what Sasha and Selby had together until I’d realized it really wasn’t much. “I hid it in the storm cellar, and Peters found it,” I said.

“Then Welker kidnapped Rhapsody and offered to exchange the source for her. Right before Jason was going to give it to him, Welker blew up the gym.”

“We got out,” I said, sadly. “We’re not sure about anybody else.”

“That’s a lot.” Debra said after soaking up all of the information we’d poured out. Her stepson and his girlfriend had saved the day and destroyed a school. She opened a drawer in Aunt Dee’s china cabinet and produced George’s letter to Rhapsody.

“Here,” she said, handing it to me. “You’ll probably need this down the road.”

I took it, unsure of what to think. If Rhapsody was alive somewhere, I’d give it to her. 

“You’ve been through a lot the past week,” Debra said to me over coffee that afternoon. She slid an envelope across the dining room table. Inside of it was a map with a circled plot number and twenty dollars. “This is from Aunt Dee. You’re un-grounded. Go see her.”

I bought the most beautiful bouquet of pink tulips in the flower shop and tucked them under my arm. More nervous than I’d ever been, I walked into the alley and leaped into the air.

Landing behind a large mausoleum, I followed Aunt Dee’s map. I found myself staring at a gray granite headstone. “Anna Lee Champion, Mother, Wife, Friend. November 8, 1972 – September 14, 2010.”

For the first time, I did the math. She was thirty-seven years old when she died. I bent down to push the green metal flower holder into the soil in front of a fresh mixed bouquet. Someone had been here recently. 

Leaning forward, I kissed the finished facing near her name, over and over again. “I miss you, Mom, so much,” I cried openly. “Every day I think about you and how things would be so much better if you were here. I’d do anything to have you back.”

I remembered her words to me in my grave. “Be strong.” Not to stop crying over her, but to find strength in my memories.

“Debra’s a good woman, Mom,” I sniffed. “She takes care of me. So you don’t have to worry. Though she wants Ray to take me this summer. Think I can talk her out of it?

“And I met a girl,” I said, certain that I was blushing. “Her name’s Sasha. I wish you could meet her. She’s great. And Rhapsody . . . she’s the best friend I’ve ever had. But she’s missing, or. . .”    

I didn’t want to think about it.

Debra, my Aunt Dee, and Sasha tried to tell me about the news reports. The police had found bodies, but I didn’t want to hear it. If Rhapsody was gone,
really
gone, I’d find out soon enough.

After wiping my eyes dry with my hand, I stood up. “I know where you are now, so I can visit you, and we can talk all the time,” I said. I hugged her tombstone and blew her a final kiss. “Love you, Mom.”

Whatever I had to face next, I had the strength to do it now.

I put my phone battery back in and turned on my phone, knowing Spivey, Welker, or Peters could find me. And when they did, I’d be waiting for them.

THE END

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