imagine what she’s doing at this very moment, what she’s wearing, who she’s talking to. The news reported that each of the six school districts surrounding Paradise absorbed a portion of the displaced students until a new building is built. I wonder which of them Sarah’s attending, if she’s still taking photographs.
I reach for my cell phone, the one prepaid and registered under the name Julius Seazar. Henri’s sense of humor. I turn it on for the first time in days. All I have to do is dial her number to hear her voice. It’s that simple. I press the familiar numbers one by one until reaching the last. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, then turn the phone off and flip it shut. I know I can’t punch the tenth number. Fear for Sarah’s safety, for her life-and all of ours, too-stops me.
Out in the living room, Sam streams CNN with one of Henri’s laptops on his thighs. Luckily Henri’s wireless internet card, under whatever pseudonym he chose at the time, still works. Sam furiously scribbles notes on a legal pad. It’s been three days since the mess in Tennessee, and we only arrived in Florida last night, having hopped aboard three different semis-one of which carried us two hundred miles in the wrong direction-before jumping a train that brought us here. Without the use of our Legacies-our speed, Six’s invisibility- we would have never made it. It’s our intent to lie low for a bit and let the news dissipate. We’ll regroup, start training, and avoid any further mishaps like the one involving the helicopters at all costs. First order of business, find a new car. Second order of business, figure out what to do next. None of us really knows for sure. Again, I feel the enormity of Henri’s absence.
“Where’s Six?” I ask, stumbling into the living room.
“Out back swimming laps or something,” Sam replies. The one cool thing about the house is the pool in the backyard, which Six immediately filled by directing a heavy rainstorm overhead.
“I’d think you’d want to catch a glimpse of Six in her bathing suit.” I nudge Sam.
His face reddens. “Shut up, dude. I wanted to check the news. You know, be productive.”
“Anything?”
“Aside from now being considered an accomplice and having the reward for me increased to a half million dollars?” Sam asks.
“Oh come on, you know you love it.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” he says, grinning. “Anyway, no, nothing new. I don’t see how Henri kept up with all this. There’re literally thousands of stories every day.”
“Henri never slept.”
“Don’t
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I see the way you look at her,” Sam says. He clicks on a link about a plane crash in Kenya. One survivor.
“And how do I look at her, Sam?”
“Never mind.” The survivor is an old woman. Definitely not one of us.
“The Loric fall in love for life, man. And I love Sarah. You know that.”
Sam looks over the screen of the laptop. “I know you do. It’s just that, I don’t know. You’re the kind of guy she’d go for, not some math nerd obsessed with aliens and outer space. I just don’t see how Six could fall for someone like me.”
“You kick ass, Sam. And don’t forget it.”
I walk out the rear sliding glass door leading to the pool. Beyond the pool lies an overgrown yard enclosed by a brick wall offering privacy from anyone who might wander by. The nearest neighbor is a quarter mile away. The nearest town is a ten-minute drive.
Six zips across the water, skimming the top like some water-borne insect, and beside her, going twice as fast, is a platypus-shaped mammal with long white hair and a beard-I have no idea what animal Bernie Kosar’s copying. Six senses me and stops at the edge, pulling herself halfway out of the water and resting her arms on the deck. Bernie Kosar jumps out and returns to his beagle form, shaking himself dry and covering me with water. It’s refreshing, and I can’t help but think how nice it is to be down South again.
“You better not be killing my dog out here,” I say. I catch myself staring at her perfect shoulders, her slender neck. Maybe Sam is right. Maybe I am looking at Six the same way he does. I want more than ever to run back inside, turn on my phone, and hear Sarah’s voice.
“More like he’s killing me. The little guy swims like he’s totally healed. Speaking of which, how’s your head?”
“Still hurts,” I say, running a hand over it. “But nothing I can’t handle. I’m ready to start training today, if that’s why you’re asking.”
“Good,” she says. “I’m getting antsy. It’s been a long time since I’ve trained with somebody.”
“You’re sure you want to train with me? You know you’ll probably end up hurt, right?”
She laughs, and then spits a mouthful of water at me. “Oh, it’s on,” I say, visualizing the surface of the pool and forcing a blast of air over it. Water rushes towards her face. She dives beneath the surface to keep from being splashed, and when she comes up she rides the crest of a huge wave that nearly empties the pool, bringing her towards me. Before I can react she moves away, but the wave keeps coming, knocking me over and sending me crashing into the back of the house. I hear her laughing. The water recedes to the pool, and I stand and try pushing her backwards into it. She deflects my telekinesis, and all at once I’m upended and sailing through the air upside down where I flail helplessly.
“What the hell are you guys doing out here?” Sam asks. He’s standing at the sliding glass door.
“Um. Six was talking smack, so I decided to put her in her place. Can’t you tell?”
I remain upside down, hovering four feet over the pool’s center. I can feel Six’s grip around my right ankle, and the sensation is the same as if she were literally holding me up with one hand.
“Oh, totally. Got her right where you want her,” Sam replies.
“I was about to make my move, you know. Biding my time.”
“So what do you think, Sam?” Six asks. “Should I let him have it?”
A smile breaks across Sam’s face. “Take it away.”
“Hey!” I say just before she lets go and I fall headfirst into the water. When I resurface, Six and Sam are laughing hysterically.
“That was only round one,” I say, climbing out. I peel off my shirt and slap it to the concrete. “You caught me off guard. Just wait.”
“What happened to being tough and rugged?” Sam asks. “Isn’t that what you said when you buzzed your head?”
“Strategy,” I say. “I’m just giving Six a false sense of security, then when she gets comfortable I’m going to pull the rug out from under her.”
“Ha! Yeah, right,” Sam says, then adds, “God, I wish I had Legacies.”
Six stands between us in her solid black one-piece bathing suit. She’s still laughing, and water runs down her arms and legs as she leans slightly forward and twists her hair to ring it out. The scar on her leg is still discolored, but it isn’t nearly as purple as it was the week before. She whips her hair back over her head. Sam and I are both mesmerized.
“So, training this afternoon then?” Six asks. “Or do you still feel like I might get hurt?”
I puff my cheeks and release the air slowly. “Maybe I’ll take it easy on you. I mean, that scar on your leg still looks kinda nasty. But, yeah, we’re on.”
“Sam, is that a yes for you, too?”
“You guys want me to train? Seriously?”
“Of course. You’re one of us now,” Six says.
He nods, rubbing his hands together. “I’m in,” he says, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. “But if you just want me for target practice, I’m going home.”
We start at two o’clock, but by the look of the gloomy sky I don’t anticipate training for very long. Sam bounces on the balls of his feet, wearing gym shorts and an oversized tee. He’s all knees and elbows, but if heart and determination could be counted, I think he’d be nearly the size of the Mogadorian I’d seen aboard the ship.
