Fear Power Page 2

  “He promised me he’d find a way.”

  Laughing, Agent Dallas opened the door and waved me out. “Foolish girl. Just like your mother to chase after an agent. Haven’t you learned anything from her life?”

  I didn’t argue, only stood and walked to the hall. Outside the door, Travis waited in a black t-shirt and black jeans. Even on his day off, he still wore the agency’s color. He reached out with a gloved hand. “You did good.”

  The door closed behind me. On the other side of the glass, Agent Dallas approached the table and spoke in a voice I couldn’t make out. “I bombed that interview. They either think I can’t use my powers or they’re considering how to lock me up if I do. Did you hear what I said about you?”

  He grinned. “That was my favorite part.”

  “What if I can’t figure out how to use my power?”

  “You came through before when it counted. I have faith in you.”

  “Glad one of us does.”

  “We’ve still got the rest of Saturday left.” The smooth leather of his glove pressed against my palm. “I’d like to show you something. How do you feel about leaving the base?”

  Leaving? I’d been stuck down here for weeks. “Sounds great. Where are we going?”

  “I’ll tell you on the way. You should change into something warm. The temperature took a nosedive this morning.”

  * * * * *

  Travis led me to an elevator and pressed G and the number one. Six weeks in this underground base and we were finally going topside. Since agreeing to Dad resuming his work as an agent, I’d stayed underground, eating at the base’s restaurants and continuing classwork as any other senior in high school would. I wiped the sweat from my neck as the elevator rose. The leather jacket I wore hung from my shoulders. Angel brought me new clothes and I refused to complain if the sizes were a little big. Dad never mentioned my old clothes back at the camper.

  I wondered if our camper still sat in that campground back in Florida. Maybe he sold it or stored it. Either way, now that he had his old job back there was no going home.

  Home. Yes, that camper was the only home I’d ever known. When I left Wynder, I never thought of returning. But now… I ached to feel home again. Could this base ever be home?

  I glanced up at Travis. He stared forward at the doors that would soon open. His arms hung at his sides, his hands flexing as if the gloves didn’t fit any better than my jacket. The caramel-colored hair above his ears had grown enough in the last six weeks that he could run a hand through it. After shaving his head for more than a year, I wondered if Travis felt comfortable with hair. Secretly, I hoped he grew it even longer.

  The door opened and we stepped out onto green carpet that reminded me of when my parents used to take me and Alfie to the putt-putt-golf course next to our campground. Before Mama died, we had fun as a family.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Just play along and follow me.”

  To my right was a counter with two men in green and white uniforms. A dozen or more customers stood in line. A woman tossed a key on the counter and insisted she wouldn’t drive her rental a second more. Something about the heater not working.

  “Car rental store, right?”

  Travis led me through the crowd to a set of sliding glass doors. On the other side of the glass was bright sunshine. “This is the agency’s main entrance.”

  “What about teleporting?”

  He raised a hand. “Don’t use that term when we’re out in public.” Travis lowered his voice and pulled me close. “Agency rules prohibit teleporting into and out of the base. You know that.”

  “Did they make the rule because of you?”

  “I’m not the first agent who’s been known to teleport.” His laughter filled the room as he walked through the doors, and I followed. A few of the customers watched and I imagined they felt envy at how happy he sounded. Cold wind blew against my face. In the clear sky above, airplanes lined up to land on the runway beside us. I started to ask about the other agents when he waved me to a black SUV next to the curb.

  “You drive an SUV now?” My breath came out in a white cloud.

  “Agency issue. I’d rather drive my Ferrari, but this does the job.”

  Guilt flooded through me as I remembered his silver sports car sat at the bottom of a harbor. He’d ditched the car to save me. “I’m sorry.”

  Travis opened the passenger door. “It’s just a car.” After closing my door, he climbed behind the wheel and set us in motion. Overhead, green signs indicated the highway exits to either side. A plane dipped low and shook the windows of the SUV. A loud booming echoed in my ears.

  I rubbed my arms, shivering inside the jacket. “We should have argued for a better heater. I don’t remember it ever being this cold in October.”

  He turned the knob to max heat. “What if I told you this isn’t some freak weather pattern? Someone caused the temperature to drop.”

  “I’d believe you, I guess.”

  “Someone at the agency has the power to lower the temperature.”

  “He did this on purpose?”

  “She almost never does this on purpose. Like you, she’s still trying to figure out her power.”

  At least I wasn’t the only freak on the agency’s radar. “Maybe Angel should be talking to her instead of me.”

  “You know Angel wasn’t trying to hurt you, right?”

  “It felt like she was scraping a knife down the inside walls of my brain. Has she ever used her power to control you?”

  “No.”

  “Is she powerful enough?”

  He laughed. “She’s way more powerful than me.”

  “But you’re number one on the list.” I thought of my last glance at the list the agency kept, ranking the people they considered most powerful and dangerous. I’d been placed at seven and I wondered if I’d managed to move up any. Probably not, since I’d been unable to reproduce the display of power from the night I diffused Louis’s bombs.

  “I have four powers and Sylvia seems to think I could do the most damage in a single blow. Trust me, I don’t like being at the top of the food chain.”

  “Would she lock you up?”

  His laughter faded. “I hope not, but you never can tell what Sylvia’s thinking. She’s director for a reason.”

  The heat blasting from the dash thawed my hands and I rubbed my cheeks. Travis stayed quiet through six lanes of traffic on the highway and when we took an exit onto a street with only two narrow lanes. He drove for about a mile and pulled into the driveway of an auto shop. A weathered wooden sign hung out front. I couldn’t make out the name or see anything through the frosty windows. Skeletons of cars sat within the fence next to the building.

  “Are you sure this place is in business?”

  “I’m sure.” He approached one of three bay doors and it creaked open. We drove through the door and into a room filled with thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment and computer screens. Travis’s Ferrari sat on the lift before us.

  He climbed out and opened my door. Glancing around, I felt shock at all the top tech, like we were in some kind of renovation TV show. My boots squeaked on the polished concrete.

  A mechanic wiped his hands on a rag and approached. The tag on his shirt said Beau. “She’s almost finished.” Beau tipped his ball cap at me.

  The sleek silver exterior looked exactly as it had when I’d first climbed inside—expensive and fast. “I can’t believe you got this car back.”

  “I have connections,” Travis said.

  “You’re lucky there was enough left to rebuild,” the mechanic said. “Usually after sitting under thirty feet of water, about all they’re good for is a salvage title.”

  “Did the water make the electronics corrode?” I asked.

  Beau nodded. “We’ve replaced every sensor and every terminal. That was after a complete engine replacement. The only thing that still worked was the radio.”

  “Now that’s
irony.” Travis rolled his eyes. “You should have replaced that too.”

  “It would have been cheaper to buy a new car,” Beau said.

  “I didn’t want a new car,” Travis said.

  Laughing, Beau gave me a wink. “Should I let her down so the two of them can spend some time alone?”

  Travis shook his head. “I don’t want to sit in the driver’s seat until I can fire the engine.”

  “What made you drive this car into a harbor?” Beau asked. “It couldn’t have been worth all this.”

  With a smile, Travis looked my way and a warm feeling spread through me. “All this and more. How much longer?”

  “We were hoping to be finished this afternoon, but we had a delay on some components. There’s a storm; I forget the city. Interesting weather we’ve been having lately.”

  “Yes.” Travis pointed to the other side of the room. “Here’s another car you might recognize.”

  “Is that…?”

  “The Nova you were so worried about. Finally got a radio installed.”

  On the other end of the room was the car Travis drove when we first met. We’d left the car down a dirt road in one of Florida’s national forests. The body was almost unrecognizable with a coat of yellow paint.

  Travis’s phone rang before we reached the car. “Payne,” he said into the phone. “Yeah, I got her. We’re at the shop. No, they’re still working on my car.” He glanced at me. “Sure thing.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He ended the call. “Agent Mason’s on the way with your brother. He wants to take you both to dinner.”

  “I thought we were—”

  “Don’t worry about me. Spend some time with your old man.”

  “He’ll ask about the meeting.”

  “Then tell him the truth. You did good.”

  “I’m not sure if they’re more worried about me not using the power or the danger to everyone if I do.”

  “You’ll figure out your power.”

  “What if I can’t?”

  Travis reached for my hand. His black leather glove felt slick against my skin. “You will when the time is right.”

  * * * * *

  “Travis has been a good sport about his car,” Dad said. “I don’t think he hates you for drowning it.”

  Next to me, Dad’s eyes were on the road and his hands gripped the wheel. This was the first time he’d driven me anywhere in more than a year. A smile fixed on his face; he wore a black suit and I wondered if he’d come straight from work. The happiness in his voice thrilled me, as did the fact he’d stayed sober for the last six weeks.

  “He loves that car,” Alfie said from the backseat. “Travis told me all about it.”

  Dad chuckled and turned up the radio. An old country song played and he tapped the wheel as he hummed along. For a moment I saw Dad like he was in the days before Mama died. Before the booze became the most important part of his life.

  When the song ended, Dad turned off the radio. “How did the meeting go?”

  Awesome. The conversation I’d been waiting for and I wasn’t ready. “I thought they’d lock the doors and play good cop, bad cop.”

  “They’re doing a job, Rena. Sylvia’s nervous about what Louis is planning and she’s trying every avenue to get you in touch with your powers.”

  “Do you think Louis is still a threat? It’s been six weeks.”

  “He spent eighteen years looking for your mother. A few weeks will hardly try his patience.”

  I groaned. “I wish someone could figure out why my power doesn’t work. All of the doctors seem clueless.”

  “The agency has great doctors, but no one who speaks the language of DNA. We need someone who understands what makes you special.”

  “With all of the agency’s resources, can’t they find someone?”

  “Sylvia has been scouring the globe. Francine Lockhart left big shoes to fill.”

  Travis told me about Agent Lockhart a few days after we stopped Louis. Angel’s adopted mom was the resident genetics expert before she died. She was the one who helped freaks like me figure out how their powers worked.

  “How close is Sylvia?” I’d barely seen the director of Earth Under Fire in the last six weeks. “I could use someone who knows more about DNA than I do.”

  “Don’t knock yourself,” Dad said. “You’re pretty smart when it comes to how things work.”

  “I know how a nuclear reaction works, but I still can’t make one happen.”

  “You’ll get there.”

  I thought of what he said about Agent Lockhart. “You knew her, didn’t you? You were here when Angel and Travis were kids.”

  “Until Travis was nine. That’s when I left the agency to help Rosanna raise you.”

  “This place was your home,” I said.

  He nodded. “These people were my family. Now you are.”

  “And me,” Alfie said from the backseat.

  Dad laughed as he looked over his shoulder.

  I held up my hands as brake lights flashed in front of us. With a scream, I covered my eyes and braced for the impact. The night Mama died flashed in my head. Metal crashing, glass breaking, hospital lights flashing as nurses wheeled me down a long white hall. The smell of gas. We skidded to a stop and I opened my eyes.

  “Did I scare you?” he asked softly.

  There were no blue sparkles along my palms. “Watch the road. Please.”

  “They’ll find another specialist,” he said as we began to move. “Maybe someone who can help you. Someone you trust.”

  “It’s hard to trust anyone right now.” Especially after finding out my parents lied for years. Louis Castillo might be my real father. “Dad…”

  “Yes?”

  “I want to take the DNA test.”

  Dad slowed for the next light. “I don’t.”

  “It’s the only way we’ll know for sure.”

  “I don’t need a DNA test to convince the world you’re my daughter.”

  “What if I’m not?”

  “You are,” he said in a voice that left no room for argument.

  “I don’t get what you’re talking about,” Alfie said. “He’s your dad just like he’s mine.”

  As I stared out of my window, I cursed myself for thinking of Louis. I’d never mentioned his name in front of Alfie. At eight, how could I expect Alfie to understand my messed-up life? This was supposed to be dinner as a family and I’d managed to ruin the night before we reached the restaurant.

  I wouldn’t say another word until after dinner. Dad pulled into a parking deck in a downtown area of Atlanta. I drew my jacket close as we walked down the sidewalk two blocks until we reached the Mexican restaurant. Wind whipped around us. The temperature dropped more with the sun behind a row of skyscrapers. This evening would be about family. I’d do my best not to upset Alfie.

  At the door to the restaurant, a familiar face stepped forward to greet us.

  “Coach Andrews!” Alfie ran ahead and threw his arms around my old principal.

  He patted Alfie’s head. With his other hand, he held tight to the cane supporting his bad leg.

  Dad shook hands with Coach Andrews. “Glad to see you could make it, Jacob.”

  “I’ve got us a table.” Coach guided Alfie inside as my brother squeezed the last six weeks into a few excited sentences. He gave me a smile but was unable to compete with Alfie. When we were seated, he flipped open a menu and leaned over to me. “How are you, Rena?”

  “Fine.” I reached for the chips and salsa that were placed in front of us. My stomach growled as I bit into a chip.

  He laughed. “Fearless as always.”

  I glanced his way, nearly dropping the salsa in my lap. “Did you know about me all along?”

  “Rena,” Dad said with a note of warning, “this is a family dinner.”

  The waiter appeared and we ordered. After he brought our drinks, I turned to Coach Andrews. The menu no longer hid his face, which seemed o
lder than I remembered. His hair was messier than normal, without his trademark gel, and his wrinkled shirt was stained below the collar. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  He sighed. “I had surgery on my leg a few weeks back. They say I’m going to be a new man after it heals.”

  “Glad to hear that,” Dad said.

  Coach Andrews had walked with a limp for my entire life. It was an old injury from a battle he and Dad fought back in their Army days. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “The day I left school… I’m sorry for not running when you told me to.”

  His eyes glistened from the lamp that hung over our table. “Rena, we all make mistakes. I made more than my share at your age. Just ask your dad.”

  Dad laughed. “Almost got run out of that town more than once. We both did.”

  “Glad to see you sober, Donald.”

  “I haven’t had a drink since Wynder.” Dad sipped his tea. “It wasn’t easy in the beginning, but it’s a requirement now.”

  “How is Phoebe?” I asked.

  “She’s dating a boy, Joey I believe, and she’s applied for a few scholarships. Said you’d be proud of her. I told her your dad was sober and that you’ll call when you get settled.”

  “No one knows about Travis?”

  “Your dad’s friend Jon did a great job at cleaning up the mess.”

  Of course. Jon Lockhart—Dad’s new partner had the ability to erase memories. He probably went to the school and erased the memories of everyone who saw me leave school that day. Jon was also Angel’s dad, which made me wonder if the base hadn’t turned into our new home without me realizing. These people treated us like family. They helped me. Protected me. Wasn’t that the definition of home?

  Our food came and Alfie was the only one who talked, asking Coach Andrews about everything that had changed in our town. He’d put our camper in storage and paid off Miss Birdie. She’d asked about us until he insisted we weren’t coming back.

  Alfie got quiet after those words. No one said anything else until dinner was over and Coach Andrews looked across the table at Dad. “I know you can’t talk about this super-secret agency.”

  “That would be against protocol,” Dad said.

  “Your old boss hired you back, didn’t she?”