Anomaly Page 15

  Cold, gritty water rushed in, steady as the rush of my heart. I fumbled with the seat belt, the water rising. My clothes clung to me. The liquid smelled of mud and grass and decay. It brushed up to my neck. If I didn’t get out, I’d drown like Nick. The seat belt unlatched, and I thrashed through the water, reaching for the door handle, but it didn’t budge. I pulled and pulled. Nothing. I let myself float to the surface of the rising water in my Civic, sucking in oxygen from the four inches of air still left, and then I kicked. I kicked the window repeatedly, depleting my energy.

  Pressing my face to the surface, I found one last sip of oxygen, only half a breath, from the air pocket. My lungs burned. I was going to drown like my brother. Panic shot through my veins, congealing my blood.

  I had causes to fight for, people to protect. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen. I wasn’t ready for death. I tried to blink away the darkness closing in around me, fast and steady. And then I welcomed it.

  Reid

  I

  simultaneously Retracted the car and the water and Pushed an air mattress directly under Josie’s floating body. “Damn it, Josie!” I yelled. The mud squished through my shoes as I sloshed forward the first couple steps, then I snapped out of my shock and Pushed a sidewalk to Josie and sprinted. My heart flailed around in my chest, out of control.

  Slipping my hands under her, I collapsed to the mattress and pulled Josie’s limp body into my lap.

  Yeah, I knew with the car crash, the drowning might be a trigger. But that was exactly why I had to exploit it and force her to move past her fears. Son of a bitch, I’d made a mistake. A grave mistake.

  I rocked, hugging her to me. She didn’t deserve this. Josie was smart and witty and wonderful in so many ways—and she didn’t ask for any of this. She’d already lost so much. Her dad, Nick…

  I maneuvered behind her and locked my hands together around her midsection. I heaved once, twice, and then water shot out of her mouth like a fountain.

  “Gross,” she mumbled.

  Oh. Thank God.

  “Reid, uh…” She coughed. “If you don’t loosen your arms, I’m going to pass out again.”

  I let my hold go slack, but I didn’t let go. She leaned against my chest. I think my breathing was as strained as hers. Sure as shit, I’d been just as terrified.

  “I’m sorry, Josie.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at me. “For what? My car?” Her lips curved into a semblance of a smile. “Guess now I can Push a new one.”

  “No.” I inclined my chin to the cypress swamp surrounding us. “For this. You weren’t ready. I put you in danger.”

  A soft sigh. “It’s the water. I used to love it, you know.”

  I did know. When I’d spent time with the Harpers in Phoenix, they’d had a pool in the yard. Even when the weather began to change in September, Josie would take to the water like a fish.

  “It’s because of the accident…because of Nick.”

  I knew that, too. Mrs. Harper wasn’t just analytical about her lab. She’d kept files on her kids, detailed accounts of their strengths and weaknesses, their flaws and fears. When I’d spoken with her this morning, she’d issued orders for me to incorporate water into one of Josie’s training exercises, said her daughter needed to be ready for anything. I had already known about the water phobia—I could recite Josie’s friggin’ profile, I’d read her files so many times. Spiders and snakes weren’t high on her list, either. But most Oculi weren’t out to play games or to terrify her. They would plan to kill her. And like an asshole, I’d thought this literal “sink or swim” approach to the water would do her good.

  She shivered in my arms. And I hated myself.

  “You weren’t ready,” I said. “I never should’ve done this.”

  Her hands rested atop mine, like she was trying to calm me instead. “I have to get past this; you’re right about that. I can’t let what happened to Nick control my life. Too much is at stake.”

  I brushed her hair back from her forehead. She’d nearly drowned, had been tossed into her greatest nightmare, and here she was putting on a brave face and being so friggin’ pragmatic about the situation, it was all I could do not to scream.

  She leaned to the side toward the trees. “There’re maybe six inches of water down there—just how much did you Push?”

  Her concern for me made me hate myself more.

  She shifted a little in my arms, almost facing me directly. “It’s okay, Reid.”

  No. None of this was okay.

  “Shh.” She touched my face.

  Shit. I’d said that out loud?

  “I know you’d never intentionally hurt me. I know you’ll always keep me safe—”

  I cut off her words the only way I knew how. With my lips.

  16.

  Josie

  M

  y first day back to school and I was terrified. I tried not to demand, or think in general. I didn’t want to accidentally Push something into existence. Today, I ventured to actually talk and interact.

  Plopping down on the bench across from Charles and Lauren, I opened up my lunch box. Marisa and Hannah showed up, gabbing about the VP coming to his hometown during his campaign. Since they were both involved in student government, no surprise for them to be discussing the Veep’s bid for the presidency and the blah-blah-blah details of his campaign. I engrossed myself in one half of my wrap, pretending to be too hungry to care.

  “Josie.” Hannah sighed. “I’m talking to you. Are you in there?”

  I pivoted and fought the urge to throw my hands around Hannah, hugging her until she had to pry my arms away.

  I stared at her, the first person who’d really liked me despite my dorkiness, and wanted to spill everything that was happening. And I’d have to keep wanting that, because I simply couldn’t.

  Something nudged my butt, and I almost choked.

  A deep voice behind me grunted out a fake cough. Reid.

  I took a moment to swallow and wipe my mouth. “Yeeeees?” I said without turning around.

  “Will you introduce us to your friends?” he said in a sweet voice. Man, he could turn the charm on and off like a switch.

  And he had yesterday, with a kiss.

  His breath had whispered across my lips as he’d said my name. His mouth had been firm, soft—yes, somehow both—and he’d held me frozen in place with just his lips. One second his mouth was pressed against mine, his strong arms anchoring me to his chest. In the next, he was ten feet away, cursing up a storm and ranting about how that would never happen again.

  ’Cause my life didn’t suck enough without getting rejected to my face.

  It wasn’t even a “real” kiss. It was just a fleeting second of our lips connecting. No tongue, not even a taste.

  “Josie.”

  I peeked over my shoulder. The guys were holding trays. Reid or Santos had already followed me everywhere I went that day, besides the girls’ restroom, so I knew I needed to invite them to sit with us.

  Lauren sat up straighter. “Santos, Reid? Friends.” I waved my wrap in the air to gesture. “Friends? Santos and Reid.” Lauren, Charles, and Hannah chorused a drawn out, “Helloooo.”

  Reid placed his tray down between Hannah’s protein shake and my vintage Star Trek lunch box. He stifled a laugh as he climbed over the cement bench, then continued bumping his hip into my side as he wriggled his butt down next to me. My stomach tumbled over itself with each bump.

  His messy dark waves, light eyes, and the way he carried himself were almost too much to handle. Why did he have to be so attractive even in jeans and a tee? I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. Girls all over the courtyard shot me death stares. And the really crazy part was, now that I’d seen him as Cal and Reid, I could see how similar they were. The exact mouth and same eyes, just a different color. They were one in the same now, indistinguishable to me.

  Everyone else at the table made room for Santos, who, not surprisingly, wedged in beside Ha
nnah. Her curls bounced as she scooted over, and a huge smile stuck to her face.

  Reid’s forearm brushed back and forth across my bare arm as he leaned forward, half standing to extend a hand to everyone around the table, performing his usual Reid McCharming intros.

  I wanted to resent him. But he was doing his job, and I was the one attaching emotional sentiment to the logistics of something bigger than either one of us. And emotional attachments weren’t my usual, which seemed to tick me off even more.

  I took another bite of my wrap and chewed slowly. My brain had to breathe before thinking about anything else.

  I watched both guys stab at our school’s version of meatloaf. Reid gave up, popped a few tater tots into his mouth, and rested his hand over a mystery Styrofoam container. Santos moved on to slurping down the rest of Hannah’s shake. These guys really believed in the Resistance’s cause, otherwise who would be so masochistic that they’d go back to high school lunches?

  But then again, Reid actually looked like he was enjoying himself.

  Without turning my head, I watched him eat his last tot and then crack open the Styrofoam dish to reveal the best-looking protein-packed salad I’d ever seen come out of our cafeteria. No doubt he had Pushed it after he tasted the meatloaf. In my most nonchalant voice, I said, “How’s your first day back in high school? You like being the new kid, don’tcha?”

  His eyes darted around the courtyard, to the street, and back to his salad. Without looking at me, he said, “This is my first time in a public school. I can be a people person.”

  Of course he could be a people person. Me, I’d been a virtual recluse in my first days at Oceanside. Reid was here less than a week and he’d probably nab a prom court nomination. I rolled my eyes and forced myself to gab with my friends and pretend life was normal. I explained an advanced physics problem to Lauren and listened to prom talk.

  When Reid stood to return his tray, I followed to continue our conversation without the worry of being overheard by my tablemates.

  We walked in sync with each other, side by side. “This is hard, the whole pretending-to-be-normal-at-school thing,” I admitted. He side-eyed me, returned his tray, and gestured with his head to follow.

  I turned the corner and leaned against the wall, relieved to be away from people for a few minutes. Pretending to be a Planck was exhausting.

  Reid placed a hand on the cinderblocks next to me.

  “Santos will follow you to the warehouse after school today.” I swung my head to him, and his closeness surprised me.

  “Hannah asked to drive me home. I, uh, had to tell her something when she asked why I didn’t drive. I said the battery was dead.” Letting my bestie in on the fact that an Oculi trainer had sunk my car in a synthetic swamp—yeah, not going to win me any points in the trust department. Plus, there was that whole “keep Plancks in the dark” policy.

  He grunted. His jaw moved as he appeared to process what he wanted to say next. “Okay. Catch a ride home with your friend. I’ll arrange the surveillance.”

  Alone at no times. Got it.

  The bell rang, and Reid’s lips twisted into his flirty half smile. He stared at me for a moment before he held out a hand, gesturing for me to move ahead of him. He walked me to my next class, where Santos was waiting to babysit me.

  The school day progressed like normal, or as normal as it can when you’re scared senseless that one wrong thought would Push or Retract something. Oh, yeah, and if I did screw up and do that in front of my classmates, well, then the Resistance, who I’m working to help, could come after me, too. Good times.

  Santos chaperoned all of my afternoon classes except advanced physics. Reid was in that class. Of course he’d placed himself in my favorite class, because apparently he lived to make my life hell. Or, at least, more complicated.

  Mr. Mac bustled into the classroom, his mannerisms brusque but patient, his voice carrying that odd cadence like he had to purposely slow his words, or else he’d talk too quickly for people to understand. Before heading to the whiteboard for our lecture, he paused in front of me. “Oh.” He addressed the class. “And check out the new poster.”

  He directed our attention over the board. This Poster Is In Latin When You’re Not Looking. Only a few students chuckled, Reid and me being two of them.

  Reid didn’t look at me, let alone talk to me the whole period. That was fine. For some reason, though, even being pissed at Reid for kissing me then acting like I was a freaking leper, I was more relaxed in that class than I had been all day.

  So, maybe Reid deserved my crappy attitude today for blowing so hot and cold, but in the scheme of the Resistance versus the Consortium, there was nothing that could stand in my way—or his. He was just doing his job. And I’d have to do mine. I needed to scale back my annoyance and promise myself to keep my feelings under control.

  Easier said than done.

  H

  annah dropped me off at my house after school. I tried not to show the happy surprise I felt when we pulled up and my car—the car that had drowned in the swamp the day before—sat in my driveway.

  I pulled Hannah in for a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around me. “Aw. I think I’ve made you a softie, J!”

  “Ha. Ha.” I leaned back to the open passenger side door. “Text ya later.”

  I waited for her to reverse out of my driveway and watched her drive down my street.

  Reid came around the corner of the house. “Hey.”

  I flinched at his voice. “Did you…did you do this?”

  He shrugged. “It’s the least I could do.”

  “What? How?”

  “I found your make and model online and recreated it.”

  “Thank you.” Reid used his abilities freely. Too freely. He was either way stronger than the average Oculi, or he was burning through his reserves at a dangerous pace. I made a mental note to ask him about that.

  He gave a curt nod, then jogged to his bike. A moment later, it rumbled to life. “I’ll follow you to the warehouse,” he yelled over the noise. He was forcing me to get back in my car. I immediately saw his ploy for what it was. It wasn’t the car that I wasn’t keen on, though, it was the water. Still, I could appreciate his plan. Pulling out of the driveway, I spotted Santos across the street, ready to take over watch of my house.

  He’d stay there until my mom and brother came home. In only a few days, so many lives had been turned upside down because of me, because of who and what I was.

  I needed to ensure those lives didn’t suffer or get hurt in vain—no matter the cost or consequences for me.

  O

  nce parked inside the warehouse, I moseyed to Reid, who was bent over a table that hadn’t been there just seconds before. “What are—”

  I knew what it was once I drew close enough. A map, a layout of the vice president’s speech and award ceremony. He said we’d be working on logistics. “Oh.”

  Reid waved me over by him. “You’ll be backstage.” His finger landed on the large rectangle. “Santos will be here, I’ll be here, and we should have two more operatives, most likely placed here and here.” When his finger glided across the diagram to the various positions, I marked with my own finger where I would stand.

  “Your mother will be at the back of the room, seated at this table,” Reid continued. “When they call your name, you’ll be signaled to walk across the stage.”

  I scooted my finger across the rectangle representing the stage, and Reid did the same. Our fingers bumped, and tiny tingles danced along my vertebrae.

  He turned around, leaned against the table, and crossed his arms, tugging up his sleeve and revealing the tattoo Nick used to bare.

  “Now let’s practice like it’s the real deal,” he said.

  I was a bit confused as to how we’d practice like it was real without breaking into the ceremony location—the hotel we’d scouted. It was probably under high surveillance due to the VP’s imminent arrival. Surely the Secret Service or some kin
d of security would be in place. While on campaign tours or just at home, the contender for the most powerful position in the world would surely not go unguarded. “How…”

  He ran a hand over his scruff. “I, uh, found a way in last night after Santos took over watch at your house, just to get a feel for the stage. Security had already closed off sections of the hotel. The room was set up, minus linens and decorations. I committed the layout to memory.”

  I was about to ask more questions, but something sounded behind us, catching my attention. A wallpapered room replaced the cement-block warehouse walls. A stage with heavy blue curtains behind it was the focal point.

  Reid sauntered toward the stage and, over his shoulder, said, “Let’s practice.”

  He’d just Pushed a replica of the room where the ceremony would take place for me to practice, plus he’d already Pushed a new car for me. But every Push came at a cost; he’d told me that himself. He couldn’t keep using his powers so freely, not for me.

  Jogging up the side stairs after Reid to follow him backstage, I hauled a door open and stepped into darkness. “Reid?”

  Overhead bulbs illuminated the backstage area, and Reid squeezed his eyes tight. He blinked a couple times and said, “Okay. You’ll be standing here. I’ll be across from you on the opposite side of the backstage. Santos will be right in front of you, in front of the stage, on the floor. We’ll both be posing as photographers—school paper and yearbook or something.” He waved his hand, glossing over the details. “When the VP calls your name, you’ll move through this opening straight to the podium.” A wooden podium appeared, and he ambled to the front of the stage.

  “Reid,” I whispered again. I saw it now. The strain. The way his mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed the tiniest bit because he was in pain.

  A dull ache spread in my chest.

  Acting like nothing was wrong, he pointed to the back of the room, which was still the warehouse. “Your mom will be sitting at the back corner table.” A large round table appeared. “One of the two Oculi from the Resistance will be sitting with your mom. Her plus-one guest will be Santos instead of your brother, for added safety. The other will be in the opposite back corner.” Another table showed up, along with the back wall of the room, then the rest of the tables filled in the space between the back wall and the stage. “Secret Service will be stationed at the back wall, along with several others throughout the room. There should be two onstage, one on each side of the vice president, and the rest off to the sides.”