The Ables (31 page)

“I know. But you’ve blabbed plenty since then, haven’t you?” He smiled. “I’m not angry. But, still … let’s try and keep
this
little meeting to ourselves, okay?”

I nodded silently.

“Now, then,” he continued politely, “I hope we can move beyond this thing with your mother for now, because I have more pressing matters to discuss with you. In particular, that book you see before you. That’s for you. Go on now and take it.”

“What is it?”

“Just take it,” he said kindly, adding, “It’s a gift, from me to you.”

“I don’t want your gifts,” I snarled.

Finch looked at me for a moment, cocking his head. “You know, you could have it a lot worse, Phillip. I could just kill you. Instead, I’m not only letting you and your friends live, but I’m offering you a present. The least you can do is accept my gift and be polite about it.”

“I don’t want—“

“Take it!” he screamed. “Take it now!” His tone had shifted dramatically, as to suggest this would be my last warning. After the echo of his voice subsided, he straightened his tie and vest and settled himself back into a proper gentlemen’s temperament.

I hated this man for what he’d done to my mother, but I was far from ready to die, at least not as long as she was alive. If he was trying to frighten me into submission, it was working. I slowly stepped forward toward the pedestal. As I made my last step, Finch’s hand waved in front of him, and the glass security case popped into the air above the ancient book, hovered a moment, and then disappeared into nothingness with a poof.

I reached out my hands, grabbed the book, and walked backwards, retracing my steps.

“My use for this room has come and gone, and I’ve already taken everything I need. However, that book,” Finch said, like a teacher beginning a lesson, “contains the original prophecy of Elben’s return, the prophecy as foretold and written on those very pages you now clutch in your arms, by the visionary Mallea.”

I looked down at the cover. It was plain—no words or pictures.

“This is what you broke into the library for during the SuperSim?”

“Don’t be silly,” he said dismissively. “I broke into the library during the SuperSim so I could steal some other things that were in this place, things I needed very badly. Then I broke back into the library again tonight, so I could be here when you arrived.”

I’m sure my face showed my confusion, but he didn’t stop to explain himself any further. “Please be sure to study that book with care. I believe it will help you understand … what I’m trying to do here. Hundreds of historians have written about that book, but most of them have never touched it or even seen it. The Believers have been guarding it since they took possession of it thirty years ago. Preston, here, gave his life to protect and hide this book and many other documents and treasures from anyone outside our order. His no power zone kept it secret for years until I no longer needed him. So tell me, Phillip,” he said, “are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

“To know what the prophecy really says,” he softly whispered.

I never believed what it says anyway
, I thought to myself.

“I know,” he answered. “What’s it going to take to get you to believe that it’s all real—“the one who can do all”? That his followers, like me, are more powerful than any being you’ve ever encountered? Haven’t I demonstrated my multitude of abilities already? Perhaps you hadn’t noticed, but I’m keeping your mother alive while also reading your mind and keeping an NPZ active in this room … all at the same time.” He sounded a little too impressed with himself. “I bet you didn’t even stop to wonder how you were receiving images in a place covered by an NPZ, did you?” he taunted.

He was right. I hadn’t.

“Do you not remember the fire? How many demonstrations do you need before you understand that your fabled Elben is real, and his return is imminent?” He leaned forward, and a deep anger flashed. “Do you need another one right now?” he asked, both politely and menacingly.

I shook my head back and forth, feeling totally helpless. Finch was the ultimate bully—nice one moment, terrifying the next—and he had me completely at his mercy. “There is more left to the part you have to play in this affair, young Sallinger. Perhaps you’ll wake up to the truth.”

I looked down and closed my eyes, hoping to will the entire experience to simply go away.

Surprisingly, it worked. I suppose the timing might have been coincidental, but that was the exact moment Finch banished us from the secret chamber, teleporting us with a flick of his wrist to the more familiar surroundings of the cornfield.

For a few beats, we all just stood there in silence.

I was a stunned, pitiful mess. Part anger, part shock, part blubbering baby. I dropped the archaic manuscript to the ground and felt it bounce off my tennis shoes. “Well …” I said with a sigh and a healthy dose of bitterness, “thanks a lot, guys.” If I’d known they’d only been silent due to Finch’s powers, I might have gone easier on them. Maybe.

I turned and walked all the way home by myself.

Chapter 18
: Apologies

“I’m sorry, Phillip.”

They were words I definitely wanted to hear—and even expected to hear—but not exactly like this.

Chad Burke was wrapping up a very heartfelt soliloquy. He’d talked for almost fifteen minutes straight as he and I sat on the picnic table in Mr. Charles’ cornfield. He’d stopped by on a Sunday afternoon unexpectedly, starting right off with an apology for everything and asking if I would be willing to hear him out. My dad was standing right behind me when I answered the door, so I knew I had to do the “mature” thing. If I’m honest, I was also a bit thankful to have some social contact outside my family—I hadn’t seen or spoken to any of the guys all weekend since I still upset about the way things had gone at the library.

To hear him tell it, Chad’s last few months had been even rougher than my own. First, his father had apparently beaten him before sending him off to Goodspeed after the cafeteria incident. Not because Chad had done something bad but because he’d tarnished the family name. I have to admit, an abusive father is so far from the reality I personally had known that it was hard to get my head around.

Then, as soon as he’d gotten to Goodspeed, his father had arranged for Chad to join the custodian equivalent of a military boot camp. They took young super-powered individuals on the verge of turning evil and beat the good back into them with a three-month regimen of running, rock-climbing, team activities, and lots and lots of pushups.

And it sounded, for a while, like the story might go exactly as I expected—that Chad had learned what it felt like to be bullied by his drill sergeants. That he’d come to regret his behavior toward me and other students. That he really had changed. And indeed, that’s the story Chad was telling. But the unexpected wrinkle was his missing arm.

On a weekend field training exercise, Chad had been involved in an accident, and it had cost him his arm. One of the other soldiers in the camp, a kid named Rodney, had bumped a vehicle Chad was changing a tire on, dropping the two-ton auto onto Chad’s left arm. The doctors told him they had no choice but to amputate, and he didn’t even find that out until after he’d woken up in the hospital with the surgery complete.

“It didn’t take long,” he said honestly, “for me to start getting frustrated by the normally simple tasks I could no longer do myself.” After a long pause, he added, “I even got a taste of my own medicine … you know, with the insults and bullying and stuff.”

Chad Burke—the biggest bully I’d ever known in my short life, at least until I met Finch—was apologizing to me and asking me to forgive him. He’d turned from his former ways. It was surreal yet real. It was too good to be true, and yet it seemed true. I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard a more sincere apology speech in my life, which is saying something if you know anything about my Patrick’s history of fake apology speeches. Chad was either being honest, or he was a better actor than he’d been a bully.

“If I’d known what it felt like, I never would have said or done those kind of things to you. I know it will take time and that you understandably have some reservations about me … but I hope you can find a way to forgive me.”

Truthfully, I guess I’d already forgiven him. I had bigger fish to fry than a kid that punched me three months ago. I had servants of “the one who can do all” after me now, for Pete’s sake. Forgiveness wasn’t a problem.

“Maybe we can even be friends,” he added softly.

That … will probably take more time
.

I told him I accepted his apology and that I was willing to start fresh with a clean slate together. But I also told him I’d come to master my powers a lot better since he’d been gone, and if he ever tried any funny business with me again, I’d use my abilities to make something sharp fly at rapid speed into his crotch.

***

“Phillip, I’m sorry.” It was Bentley this time, sitting down beside me in the cafeteria.

I’d been ignoring the guys all morning throughout class, trying my best to maintain my grudge. It was difficult; everyone in school was buzzing about another teacher having gone missing.

“You were right,” Bentley continued. “We never should have gone down there without knowing what we were up against, and it was a huge mistake. And I just hope you can forgive us.”

“Yeah,” Henry added, wheeling up to the other side of the table. “All that stuff he said goes for me, too.”

I took a few seconds to ponder it. I wanted to hold onto my anger. I wanted to stay bitter. But I’d never really had a group of friends before, and the temptation to get back to our old ways was too much for me.

“It’s okay,” I finally said with a sigh. “All is forgiven.”

“All right,” Bentley said happily, as Henry and James rejoiced as well.

“But no more teleporting into unknown places, okay?”

“Done,” Henry agreed.

“Promise,” Bentley added.

“I really want to get that guy,” I said, betraying how much I’d let him get into my head. “Even if he lets my mom wake up tomorrow and disappears forever, I want to get him.”

“Hey, Phillip,” I heard behind me, recognizing Chad’s voice. He had apparently been passing by.

I turned around to acknowledge him. “Oh,” I said awkwardly. “Hey.” I heard his feet shuffle away, so I turned back around.

“What in the heck was that?” Henry said, unable to hide his amusement.

Bentley thought I might have made a mistake. “You do know that was Chad Burke you just said ‘hey’ to, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a good thing Donnie wasn’t here,” he added, still a bit confused.

“Oh yeah,” I said, “how is Donnie doing? Does anybody know?”

“He’s good,” Henry said, “I think he gets to come back to school next week.”

“Good.”

“We’ll have to have a talk with him about how you’re apparently not enemies with Chad anymore,” Bentley said, thinking out loud.

“Just Phillip, though,” Henry said, stuffing a chicken nugget in his mouth. “I’m still considering Chad an enemy.”

“Well,” I said, deciding to explain things a bit further, “Chad and I had a little talk the other day. He, uh … wanted to apologize.” I let it hang there in the air, though it received nothing but stunned silence in return. “For being such a bully and for making fun of me and punching me.” Still no response. “And … he hopes we can be friends someday.”

There was a sizable pause. “What?!” Henry was incredulous.

“And you believed him?” Bentley asked.

“I did. It was … honest. I don’t know … I could be wrong … but I usually have a good sense about when people are being truthful, and … I mean … he even cried. You know, his life hasn’t been so easy, particularly since he got shipped out of town. He lost his arm and has had to endure some pretty crappy bullying himself.”

Henry was always quick to add his own opinion. “I don’t really care what he says: I still wouldn’t trust him.”

“I agree … that guy gives me the creeps,” said James.

Since Chad had turned over his new leaf, his old friends had quickly shut the door on him. He wasn’t popular anymore and had been cast out of their ranks. Steve Travers was the new head bully at Freepoint High, and Tad was just a rung or two above complete outcast status.

“I’m sorry to hear you say that,” I said. “I was actually thinking of asking him to join our team.”

“What?!” Henry again.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea at all,” Bentley said. His words fired off in several directions as he spoke, indicating he was shaking his head back and forth. “Even if this guy’s no longer a bully, that doesn’t mean he’s going to mesh well with our team.”

“Don’t look now, Bentley, but none of us really meshed that well in the first SuperSim either. And we could use the experience from a guy like that—he’s a senior, for Pete’s sake!”

“I don’t know,” he replied, obviously on the fence.

Henry was less on the fence. “I don’t care how old he is. I don’t trust him!”

The debate raged on from the end of lunch all the way through to our team meeting that evening. We were still deliberating even after Dad had cleared the empty pizza boxes from the table. Patrick was spending the night at a friend’s house, which allowed us the rare opportunity to discuss our powers openly at my house.

“Once a bully, always a bully.” Henry had now uttered that phrase roughly fifteen times in the last few hours.

“You don’t think losing an arm like that changes a person?” I asked in Chad’s defense.

“It might very well change someone, Phillip,” Bentley explained, “but that doesn’t mean we have to be the guinea pigs who find out firsthand if he’s really different. I mean, we’re trying to do well and show that disabled kids can be just as good as regular heroes … we don’t need the drama.”

“You’re right, Bentley,” I said, seeing my chance. “We are trying to do well and show that disabled kids can be as good as regular heroes. And … how exactly did that work out the last time we were in a SuperSim?”

“Pretty bad, actually,” he allowed.

“Right! Pretty bad. Heck, since this school year started, the six of us have probably done more harm than good to the reputation of disabled heroes. We’re certainly not making our case very well. So don’t you think we could use someone with his abilities on our team? Basic math tells us that seven is better than six.”