Part 19 (1/2)

”Move.” Olivia nudged me aside with a pointy elbow and then punched in a code at yet another keypad. Vaguely I was aware that whatever was in there must have been important. There was a click as the door unlocked. Such a soft sound, yet my pulse hammered madly. Quietly, she pushed the door wide.

”Where are we?” I whispered. Narrow windows lined the tops of the walls, too high to see out of, but allowing moonlight to filter into a long, large room.

But Olivia didn't answer and for one long moment, we just stood there. Maybe she was waiting for my eyes to adjust, maybe she wasn't sure how to explain, or maybe she regretted her actions. Whatever her deal, it was too late. Shadows morphed into objects. Objects became small beds lined along the perimeter of the room. And little forms huddled on the beds were obviously children. Small children under blankets, children fast asleep. The soft sound of deep, even breathing was the only noise in the dorm...or orphanage...whatever it was.

Olivia started forward and so I followed, my shoes thumping eerily against the linoleum. ”Who are they?” I demanded in a harsh whisper.

”Children with powers,” Olivia whispered back. ”Children like us.”

I froze. I could have sworn for one brief moment my heart stopped beating. Shock held me immobile. Children like us. I didn't know what I'd been expecting, but it hadn't been this. There were at least twenty kids in this room, Olivia and I not included.

My little tour guide continued down the aisle. I hurried after her, frantic to understand. ”Olivia, explain!”

”That girl there.” She pointed to the first bed on the right like a flight attendant pointing out exits. ”She can cause people to feel pain. Real, horrible, physical pain.”

My stomach clenched.

”And that boy,” She pointed toward the left, indicating a small bundle of a child who couldn't be more than six. ”He can make you think you see things that aren't really there.”

She pointed toward another girl, her long blonde hair glimmering under the light of the moon. ”Her-”

”Okay,” I whispered furiously and latched onto her arm, forcing her to pause in the middle of the room. ”Enough. I get it.” But I didn't get it. I didn't understand anything and frankly I was tired of being the stupid one in cla.s.s. How could these children be here without me knowing? Shouldn't I have heard yelling? Laughter? Something! And then I remembered.... I pressed my hands to my stomach, the room fading, the world fading.

Crying. All those times I'd heard that eerie sound at night, those times Aaron had brushed off my questions by saying it was merely the wind. Crying. Frightened, little children kept under lock and key.

”He kept them quiet. He didn't want you to know right away. He was afraid you'd think it was weird.” Olivia took that strand of hair between her lips and watched me as she chewed, waiting for my response.

He thought it would be weird? It was beyond weird. It was creepy. Deep breath in, deep breath out. I tried to calm my racing heart. ”How did they get here? Did their parents die? Were their parents murdered?”

”No,” she said, shaking her head.

”Then how?” I swiped my damp hands on my sweats. ”Did their parents send them here to learn how to use their powers? Is this like a school of some sort?”

She shook her head again.

Frustrated, I resisted the urge to yell at her. ”Olivia,” I snapped, my voice harsh. I glanced around, to make sure they still slept. None of them stirred; they were like little statues. ”How did they get here?”

She lowered the lock of hair from her mouth, her large dark eyes looking directly at me. ”He took them.”

Chapter 17.

I was trembling when I made my way back to my room. An icy chill had settled deep within my bones and I couldn't seem to get warm. Olivia was nuts, right? Surely Aaron hadn't taken innocent children from their beds. Stolen them from their families. Olivia had made it up, just as she'd made up other things. I jerked open my top dresser drawer and pushed aside my socks and underwear.

Where had I left my cell phone?

Maybe I should ask Lewis about the children. No, I should demand the truth, not ask. But would he tell me? Frustrated, I grabbed my purse off the nightstand and emptied the contents onto my bed. Chapstick, wallet, gum. No phone. .

I paused, in the middle of the room, and took a deep breath in, out, like Aaron had taught me. Thoughts of the man made me sick. I wrapped my arms around my belly and sank onto the edge of the bed. I didn't want to be in a place where I didn't know who was good and who was bad. I wanted to be home. So maybe I wasn't going to buy her a mug with World's Best Grandma anytime soon, but at least at home I'd never felt so confused, so scared.

Grandma might have been wrong in keeping the truth from me, but I knew without a doubt she had my best interest at heart. With Aaron, even with Lewis, I had a feeling they'd give me up in an instant if it would help the mission. They were determined and no one would stop them or get in their way, certainly not me.

I sniffed as a tear slipped down my cheek.

I had to call Grandma and hopefully she would answer. She could pick me up at the ferry dock on the mainland. Somehow I'd leave here, whether I snuck out, which I'd prefer as the coward in me couldn't face Lewis and Aaron, or if I had to, demand that they take me to the harbor.

I was going home.

I pulled open my bedroom door and made my way into the hall. It was almost dawn. Grandma would still be sleeping but hopefully she'd answer. When I moved by Lewis's room, I made sure my mental wall was up. I forced myself not to pause, not even to think about him. I'd die if he heard my thoughts and woke up. I couldn't face him, not now. If I saw him, I might not have the courage to leave.

The house was still and dark and silent. No crying this morning. I couldn't help but think of those children downstairs, locked away like animals. Did their parents miss them? Were they afraid? Some were so young. And I thought about myself, when I was five and I'd been dropped off at Grandma's, a person I hadn't even met until that day. How afraid I'd been. How terrified. It wasn't right; these children were here without their families. Yet, what could I do?

The kitchen was empty. No Olivia having her late night snack. I reached for the phone, slid down the wall, sitting on the floor, my back against the cold wall. With trembling fingers I dialed Grandma's number.

Nothing happened. No dialing tone, no beep, nothing.

I hung up and tried again.

Nothing.

A floor board creaked. My heart slammed against my ribcage. Fear fought with panic. Gripping the phone to my chest, I fell to my knees and crawled behind the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. Crouching low, I leaned against the counter and held my breath.

Soft footsteps thudded through the room...closer....closer.

”Cameron?”

Aaron's voice jolted through me. I surged to my feet and bit back my scream. He stood against the island, his arms folded over his chest. How long had he been there? I couldn't read his face in the darkness and didn't know if he was angry.

”I...I missed my Grandma and wanted to call her.” True enough.

”Why?” He moved around the island counter, coming closer to me. I had to resist the urge to dart behind the barrier. ”She's done nothing for you.”

The moonlight coming in through the windows. .h.i.t his face. He'd changed from sweats and t-s.h.i.+rt and was wearing gray slacks and a b.u.t.ton up black s.h.i.+rt, his hair combed neatly into place as if nothing had happened last night. As if he was up this early every morning, dressed, ready to take on the world, ready to steal more children.

”I wouldn't say nothing.” I certainly saw the irony in the fact that I was suddenly defending Grandma. ”She's kept me safe all this time. Besides, she's family. My only family.”

He rested perfectly manicured hands on the countertop. ”We're your family, Cameron.”

More irony. How I'd pathetically dreamt of Aaron being my dad and now...now I didn't even want him as a friend.

I felt the slightest push inside my head. So slight that before I wouldn't have noticed it. My insides froze. He was trying to read my mind. Testing the barrier to see if I'd put up that wall. I forced my lips to lift, my face to remain pa.s.sive.

”I know you're my family,” I lied. ”But...” I shrugged with a nonchalance I sure as heck didn't feel. ”I've lived with her most of my life. It's normal to miss her, isn't it?”

I waited for his answer, waited to see if he'd buy my logic, prayed he would.

He smiled and still I wasn't sure if I should be nervous or relieved. ”I understand.”