Page 7

7

ARELLA

I’m firm in my refusal to call my grandma. Eventually, Trey and Katie give up asking. Trey simply hands my phone back to Katie, and then she tells him to leave. At first, he hesitates, but eventually, he shuffles toward the door.

On his way out, I catch a glimpse of the big guy guarding my exit. He looks like the white version of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. I don’t know how I’m going to escape with that man around. I can’t take him on. He’s triple my size.

When the door shuts, Katie flashes me a gentle smile. “Are you allergic to anything?”

My response is automatic. “Liars and people who don’t use their blinker.”

She giggles, covering her mouth with a hand. “I’m glad you can still make jokes, given how scared you must be, but I was asking if you have any food allergies.”

She’s wrong. I’m not scared. I’m terrified. I’m making jokes because it’s keeping me centered. Otherwise, I might be hyperventilating in the fetal position right now.

“No allergies,” I say.

“Excellent. I’ll be right back.”

She leaves and returns a few minutes later with a food tray in hand. On it is a bowl of cereal, some milk in a glass, an apple, and a granola bar.

She sets it onto my lap. “Eat up.”

“No.”

She frowns at the food. “Do you not care for Cheerios?”

“I don’t care to eat any offerings from criminals.”

This girl has the audacity to look offended. “I haven’t committed any crimes. You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to, but for your information, lunch doesn’t start in the cafeteria for another three hours. Judging by what’s on your schedule today, I think you’re gonna want all the energy you can get.”

I don’t like the sound of that. “What’s going to happen to me?”

Katie doesn’t answer with her mouth, but the pity in her eyes tells me all I need to know.

I glance at the food, then back up at her. I’m about to ask if it’s poisoned but figure if it is, at least I won’t have to endure whatever it is they’ve got planned for me, so I pick up the apple and take a bite.

My breakfast is long gone by the time Katie’s iPad chimes. She leaps off her chair and plucks that precious metal key out of her pocket. “It’s time.”

“For what?” I have a good feeling that whatever she’s got to say next won’t be good.

“To take you downstairs. Before I uncuff you, I wanna tell you that your stay here will be more comfortable if you don’t try to run. The last person tried and was put into a straitjacket. Those things are uncomfortably heavy. I don’t think you want that.”

The last person? That means I’m not the first. If that’s the case, what happened to the others? Do I even want to know?

Katie continues, “I was the one who suggested not restraining you at all. I told Victor it would help you be more agreeable. He wasn’t fond of that idea, so we compromised with restraining only one of your arms instead. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but I sure hope you won’t purposely ruin my chances of proving to my boss that I can have good ideas. So, do you think you can be agreeable?”

“I’ll be agreeable if you give me back my necklace.”

For the second time, Katie shoots me a firm shut up look. It quickly disappears and fades into a warm smile. “Glad you’re promising to behave. Now let’s get you downstairs.”

This girl is either a psychopath or she’s up to something. Maybe she’s both. She’d better not think I’m going to simply brush off that she stole my necklace. It doesn’t matter that the man who gifted it to me is a... well, I’m not sure what he is. A spy? A secret agent from another universe? Whatever he is, I still want my necklace back.

Katie leads me down the hallways, passing a plethora of numbered rooms like in an apartment complex. The big guy who was guarding my door follows closely behind me. After a few turns, we pass what looks like a community area across from a cafeteria. A few people are scattered around the tables, typing on laptops.

In the elevator, I make a mental note that there are six floors. I also note that they’re keeping me captive on the second one. Katie presses the 1 button, and then the doors slide together.

Katie cuddles her iPad close to her chest as the machine takes us down. I’ll bet there are lots of important things on that device. Like incriminating notes, names of all the secret agents here, and a way for me to send for help. I’ve got to get that iPad from her.

Ding! The elevator opens to a new floor.

I follow Katie down the wide hallways while the big guy tramps behind me in his heavy boots. I log as many details of this place into my brain as possible. White walls, gray doors, cream tiled floors. Behind a glass wall is a group of six rowdy men. Two are wrestling each other on padded mats while the other four cheer them on.

In a fitness room, two men and three women are running on treadmills or lifting weights. I don’t get a long enough glance to memorize any of their faces. I’m not even sure how any of this information is going to help me later, but I continue to memorize things anyway.

We pass a few more rooms, but they don’t have windows for me to see through. The signs on the outside say things like Fireball Throwing Practice , Terra Training , and Artificial Sunlight . I don’t know what any of that means.

Through a set of double doors, we enter a giant auditorium with a square boxing ring in the center. Empty rows of seats stretch from the boxing ring all the way up to the back walls. In the ring are a group of people having a conversation. One of them is Mustache Man, otherwise known as Victor, Trey’s uncle and the man who organized my kidnapping. The baby senses excitement from him instead of the frustration that was simmering in his gut earlier. Whatever he’s excited about can’t be good for me.

Katie stops at the bottom of the stairs leading into the boxing ring. She gestures for me to step up.

I don’t.

“Get in,” Victor orders.

Three. Besides Victor, there’s three of them in the boxing ring, and they’re all ready to do whatever it is they do to their captives in there. No thank you. Hard pass for me.

Victor snaps his fingers. “Craig, assist the girl, will you?”

I yelp when the big guard scoops me off my feet. Then he stomps up the stairs in his boots and drops me into the center of the boxing ring.

I don’t move a muscle as Victor throws a leg over the ropes to stand on the other side of the ring. Then he draws a circle in the air with his finger. “Surround her. One of you at each corner.”

As if they’re robots—maybe they are—all three people plus Craig migrate to separate corners of the box. I stare at each one, memorizing anything about them that can help the police identify them later.

Craig, if that’s his real name, is a forty-something white male with neck tattoos that seem to run all the way down to his fingertips.

Guy two is another white male, maybe late thirties, with muscles practically bursting out of his shirt. Short brown hair. No visible tattoos.

The other two are women. The first one is Asian—maybe Korean. She’s the shortest of them all. She also looks the youngest, maybe nineteen or twenty. She has a pixie haircut with blue highlights, plus floral tattoos running down her upper arm, and she’s chewing on a piece of gum.

Female two looks in her mid-twenties. Slender figure, long curly red hair, and lots of freckles.

Okay, now all I have to do is remember all that...

“Let’s try one at a time first,” Victor says from the sidelines. His deep voice echoes throughout the emptiness of the auditorium. “Derek, you first.”

The muscular guy steps forward and snaps his fingers in my direction. I glance around, looking for something coming at me, or something to fall onto me from the ceiling. When nothing does, he snaps again.

“Maybe I need to touch her.” Derek comes to my side. I think about running, but his stern gaze makes me stay in place. Besides, there’s nowhere for me to go.

I flinch when he grabs my arm and holds it. His grip gets tighter as I try to jerk away from him.

“Let go.” I yank my arm back until he releases me.

“What the...?” He gapes at me. “Pixie, come here for a sec.”

The Asian woman pops up from her squat. In mid-stand, Derek snaps his fingers, and she stills like she’s been paused in a movie. She doesn’t blink. She doesn’t chew on her gum. I’m not even sure if she’s breathing. My mouth pops open as my eyes go wide.

“So my powers do work.” Derek snaps his fingers again.

Pixie finishes her stand like the movie’s been unpaused. She must know what happened, because she narrows her eyes at Derek. With two fingers, she points at her eyes, then at him. “I’m watchin’ you, jackass.”

Victor waves a hand at the big guard. “Let’s keep this movin’. You’re next, Craig.”

As Derek returns to his corner, Craig points a firm tattooed finger at me. His strides are long as he closes the distance between us. The closer he gets, the more I back away.

“Don’t come any closer.” My voice betrays me. It comes out weaker than I wanted it to.

Craig backs me into the ropes, pinning me there. I punch his chest, but it’s as effective as punching a statue. He doesn’t even flinch. He continues pointing a finger at me, even pressing it against my forehead—hard.

“How are you doing that?” His shock flashes through my mind.

Doing what?

“Sorry, Derek.” Craig unpins me, then points a finger at the muscular guy. With the sound of a balloon releasing air, Derek shrinks to the size of a small dog. I scream, but I’m the only one who does. None of the other people look slightly surprised—not even Katie, who’s typing away on her iPad from the front row of the auditorium seats. Is seeing people shrink like that normal around here?

In a tiny, high-pitched voice, Derek shouts, “Hey! Unshrink me!”

Pixie draws her arm back like she’s about to pitch a baseball. In the palm of her hand, a ball of water appears. She tosses it at mini Derek, and it lands right over his little head, drenching him.

“That’s fucking rude!” Derek shouts in his high-pitched voice. “Craig, unshrink me, you bastard!”

Craig points his finger at Derek. With the sound of air being blown into a balloon, Derek returns to his normal size. He leans against the ropes for support. “Damn. That shit hurts,” he says as he wrings out the bottom of his drenched shirt.

“The shrinking or the water ball?” the Asian woman asks.

“The shrinking, bitch. Yours, I barely felt.”

I don’t even see the water ball grow in her hand before it’s launched across the room. Derek ducks, and the water splashes all over the floor.

“Missed me, bitch,” Derek says, grinning.

A third water ball appears in the woman’s hand. She raises it into the air as it doubles in size. “Call me a bitch one more time.”

“Enough!” Victor shouts. “Pixie, since you’re so eager to use your powers, why don’t you go next?”

“Gladly.” Pixie’s water ball evaporates in a cloud of steam in her hand, then she marches toward me and stops barely a half step from my face. I log more of her features into my brain: nose ring, sharp eyebrows, plump lips. How am I going to remember all this?

Her minty breath wafts over my nose as she puckers her lips into an O shape. She blows air at me. I wait for something to happen, maybe for my face to melt or my eyeballs to pop out. Nothing happens.

Pixie steps back as her genuine confusion races through my head. “No fucking way.” She takes the gum out of her mouth and blows air at me again.

Then she blows a third time.

Finally, she twists on a heel, puckers her lips, and blows air in Derek’s direction.

He slaps his hands over his ears. “Ow! Stop!”

Pixie does and returns her gum to her mouth. She smirks at me as if we’re good friends. “I just love fuckin’ with him.”

“Ruby,” Victor says, “how ’bout you try?”

The redhead doesn’t move from her spot. Instead, she simply raises her open palm out to me and hisses through her teeth. When nothing happens, she advances toward me. Her black booties click with each step she takes until she’s right in my face.

“Is it workin’?” Derek asks.

“Do you hear her screaming in pain?” Ruby says.

Screaming in pain? What is she trying to do to me?

“If you touch her, will it work?” Victor asks.

Ruby places her hand on my arm and hisses again. When nothing happens, she releases me. Then she directs her hisses at Derek. He drops to his knees and screams like he’s being attacked by giant cobras. When Ruby puts her arm down, the screaming stops.

“What the fuck?” Derek is still on his knees, clutching his stomach. “Going through an incinerator would be less painful than that.”

Ruby shrugs, smirking a little. “I had to make sure my powers still worked.”

Who are these people? Better question: What are they? They seem to have abilities of some kind and are testing them out on me. For some reason I don’t know and am deeply grateful for, their powers don’t work on me. Why?

Maybe Javina was right about Trey being from an alternate universe. Except, it wasn’t him who was sucked into my universe; I’ve been sucked into his. It’s the only explanation I have for everything I’m witnessing.

“Gather ’round her,” Victor orders. “Let’s try all four of you at the same time.”

Derek, Craig, Pixie, and Ruby trap me against the ropes as they fix their gazes on me. I don’t pause. My body doesn’t shrink. I don’t hear anything that makes me want to cover my ears. I don’t collapse to my knees with pain either.

“Pixie, give her a splash,” Victor says. “Everyone focus!”

Pixie raises both arms as a giant water ball forms in her hands. I raise my arms to try to block her, but she wins. Icy-cold liquid drenches me.

I spit out the water and wipe at my face.

“Well, she ain’t immune to elemental powers,” Pixie says.

There’s that word again. Powers. How did these people get their powers? If they are people at all.

“Do it again,” Victor orders.

The second water ball is even colder.

I shiver as the four of them continue trying to accomplish whatever it is they want to accomplish. The longer nothing happens, the more the cloud of irritation above Victor grows.

“How are you doing that?” Victor asks.

I wish they would stop asking me that as if I know the answer. My jaw quivers as I push the wet hair from my face.

“All right, let’s be done,” Victor says. “Pixie, help the girl out.”

The other three step back as Pixie waves her hands in circles. In slow steam clouds rising to the ceiling, all the water soaking my body disappears. My shirt that was soaking wet a second ago feels like it just came out of the dryer. What kind of magic is this?

“Katie!” Victor shouts, and it makes her pop out of her seat. I think she’s been typing notes on her iPad this whole time. “Take the girl back to her room. Give her the questionnaire.”

In her mousey little voice, Katie says, “Yes, sir.”

Together, Katie and Craig escort me back to the elevators. I think about running, but now that I’ve discovered they’re wizards, I don’t stand a chance.

Back on the second floor, we take a few turns down the hallways before we reach my corner jail cell disguised as a bedroom. On the doorframe is a chain lock that disheartens me. I didn’t think I had any chance of escaping before. Now it seems impossible.

Katie types a few numbers into a keypad on the door. When it beeps, she gestures for me to step inside. I do, because what else can I do?

While Craig stations himself outside my door, Katie clicks it shut. The sound of the chain lock sliding into place makes me choke up.

“Take a seat,” Katie says, pointing at the bed. She plops onto her folding chair and offers me a smile. “I’ll leave you uncuffed if you promise not to attack me.”

I stay standing where I am. “Why do you have to cuff me at all? I don’t have magic powers to fight you with. There’s no way I can get out of here. Although, if I did attack you, it doesn’t seem like your powers work on me, so maybe I could win in a fight.”

“First off, the cuffs aren’t really to keep you from attacking me or to keep you from leaving. It’s more to keep someone from taking you. We’ve been having a problem with double agents lately, so you can never have too much security on your assets.”

She’s calling me an asset like I’m something they own. Am I their slave now?

Katie continues, “Secondly, it’s not magic, and please, don’t say that word out loud around here. Most Zordis get really offended when our gifts are referred to as magic . Third, some of our powers do work on you. It’s only the internal ones that seem to have no effect. And lastly, I don’t need my powers to subdue you. I grew up learning karate.”

I totally called that. “Zordis? That’s what you call yourselves?”

“We don’t just call ourselves that. It’s what we are. The technical term is Zordinary , but we shorten it to Zordi.”

“And you’re what? Aliens? Mutants? Lab experiments gone wrong?”

Katie lets out a little laugh. “You have quite the imagination, don’t you? We’re humans, just like you, except we have gifts. Now how about you sit down? It’s my turn to ask the questions.”

Sighing, I do as I’m told and plant my butt onto the mattress.

Katie taps around on her iPad, then says, “I’ve got a pretty long list of questions. All you’ve gotta do is answer them honestly. Think you can do that?”

The questions start off normal enough: Where did you grow up? Do you have any siblings? What did you study in college?

Once the questions are about my family, it gets weird: Did your mom or dad have a sexually transmitted disease at the time of your conception? Was your mother on any drugs or prescriptions while she was pregnant with you? Have you or your parents ever been bitten by an exotic spider?

I don’t understand how these questions are relevant. How would I know if my parents had an STD at the time of my conception or if my mother was on drugs? That’s not a typical dinner conversation. Even if it was, I never got the chance to ask.

“I told you already,” I say exasperated. The warped clock on the wall reads eleven thirty. It’s been almost two hours since we began this stupid interrogation. “My parents died in a car accident when I was three. I don’t even remember them.”

“Do you think there’s a chance your parents were Immunes too? Like, maybe it runs in the family?”

“No! No! No!” Normally, I don’t like to shout. Right now, I want to shout so loudly, the sky can hear me. I haven’t seen the sky yet today, so I’m questioning if it still exists. “I don’t know the answers to your dumb questions! I didn’t even know I was immune to anything until today!”

Katie’s expressionless as I chuck a pillow at her. She doesn’t even flinch as it hits her shoulder and flops onto the floor. I let out a scream toward the ceiling, then burst into tears.

It’s quiet for a moment while I cry into my hands, letting out all the emotions I’ve been bottling in since I woke up. I feel Katie’s gaze on me as she waits for me to stop sobbing.

When I don’t, she slaps her thighs and stands from her chair. “Welp, I think it’s time for lunch. I’ll be back in a bit. We can finish the questionnaire after you eat.”

There’s more? How can there be more?

Five minutes later, Katie returns with two food trays. My sobbing has subsided and turned into occasional hiccups. I’m regretting every decision I’ve ever made that landed me here, and all I want is to crawl into my nice comfy bed at home and never come out.

“Do you prefer turkey or ham? I made one of each. I’ll have whatever you don’t want.”

“Turkey,” I say somberly.

She hands me one of the trays. “I made it myself. If you want, I’ll take the first bite, so you know it’s not poisoned.”

“Don’t bother. If it is poisoned, at least it’ll end this misery.”

Katie puckers her bottom lip out into a little pout. “Oh, come on. Am I really that bad to hang out with? I think you’d prefer me over the last guy. He was kinda mean. He also had a gut that hung over his belt and a beard so long, you could braid it. Honestly, he looked like an ogre. And that’s saying something, because Zordis are naturally pretty fit. We have higher metabolisms than Ordis, so that guy had to really let himself go to get all that flub.”

That explains how Trey has such perfectly toned abs. All this time, I thought he just put a lot of effort into his exercise. Turns out, he’s got a mutant body that makes it easy for him to look fit.

“Can I sit with you?” Katie eyes the other side of the twin bed. “This chair is aching my bum.”

“Sure.”

We rest our food trays between us, then take a bite into our sandwiches. If someone snapped a photo of this moment, it’d look like Katie and I are best buddies, having a friendly bedroom picnic. In reality, I met this girl this morning and I know nothing about her, except that she works for a man who organizes federal crimes. Oh, and that she’s a thief. Is my necklace still in her bra?

“You asked me a million questions earlier,” I say. “Can I ask you some now?”

“You can ask, but I can’t promise I’ll give you the answer, even if I know it.”

“I’ll take all the answers you can give me. First, I want to know what your mission is.”

Katie swallows her food, then says, “Victor assigned me to be your overseer. I’m in charge of making sure you’re fed, dressed, and arrive on time to your appointments. Honestly, I think overseer is just code for glorified babysitter . This wouldn’t have been my first pick from the pool of on-base assignments, but it’s a stepping-stone.”

“What would have been your first pick?” I open my bag of chips.

“My dream is to be a field agent, doing stuff out in the world where I can make a big difference. That’s not to say the people who work on base aren’t making a difference. Of course the janitors, the cooks, the maids, and even me, as Victor’s assistant, are important. We’re the oil for the gears to function properly—the gears being the field agents.

“But this type of work doesn’t light my soul on fire, ya know? It’s hard to feel like I’m making an impact when I’m confined down here all day and night. I guess if I had to pick something on base, I’d like to be in project management. I could help write up mission plans for the field agents and make sure they’re getting done.”

By the way Katie talks about this place, it sounds like a well-functioning establishment—not a place that houses kidnapping criminals.

I finish the bite I’m eating, then say, “So, this is just a job to you? Like, you’re getting paid for this?”

“Yes, technically this is a job. Just like anyone else, I get paychecks, and I have days off where I’ll go see my family and stuff. But to me, working for ZIRDA is much more than that. I want to build a career here. When I’m old and retired, I want people to say my name and think, Wow. She saved a lot of lives. ”

How can Katie talk about saving lives when I feel like mine is at risk? “What does ZIRDA stand for?”

“Zordinary Innovations Research and Development Agency. We began as an organization who designs and improves inventions that progress the lives of Zordis. For example, our agents are the ones who created the z-net, which is an Internet that only Zordis can access. It was also our agents who invented z-ink, which is the ink our kind uses to print books that only our eyes can see. Over the decades, ZIRDA has become more than just inventors. Now we also work to fight off the Royals, who are the biggest organized Zordi crime group in history.”

I take a sip of water and ask the question that’s been on my mind since this morning. “What’s Trey’s role here?”

“Field agent.”

That’s not the answer I was looking for, so I try again. “What’s his mission?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Agents aren’t allowed to speak in detail about our missions with each other, but it’s only right to assume that his mission is to get you to give Victor what he wants.”

A little piece of my heart breaks as I flashback to meeting Trey on the side of a busy highway. It’s hitting me now that maybe my flat tire wasn’t an accident. I choke back some tears and say, “I’m going to assume that Trey’s mission is to figure out how I’m immune to your people’s powers, but what happens after that?”

“I’d assume that ZIRDA will try to replicate your immunity so we can use it to take down the Royals.”

“What makes them so bad?”

“Everything. While most Zordis believe that living in peace with Ordinaries is optimal, the Royals believe that because Zordis have powers, we’re the superior humans. They think Zordis should be the ones running the show, and they hate that we are the ones who have to hide our true selves. Some Royals even go to the extreme and believe that all Ordinaries should be eradicated. They’ve gone as far as mass genocides and biochemical weapons that cause worldwide viruses killing off only Ordinaries. The Black Plague, the Spanish flu, SARS—all started by the Royals.”

I have no idea if she’s feeding me lies or not, but for now, I’ll assume she’s telling the truth. What reason does she have to lie about where the Black Plague came from? “And Ordinaries are...?”

“People like you.”

“Is that like muggles in Harry Potter? Non-magic folk?”

Katie scolds me. “Again, it’s not magic. It’s called gifts or powers.”

“How did you get them?”

“We’re born with ’em,” she says, like it’s common knowledge. “It’s passed down by genetics. Which reminds me, would you mind if I held your hand for a moment? I’m curious to see if my powers will work.”

I respond by holding my arm out to her with full confidence that she won’t hurt me.

After setting her half-eaten sandwich down and wiping her fingers off on a napkin, she takes my hand and closes her eyes. A few seconds later, she lets me go and picks up her sandwich.

“Did it work?” I ask.

“No. I can’t control when my body power works, anyway, but it’s safe to assume that no matter how hard I try, it won’t work.”

I don’t have a clue as to what body power means, and I don’t care to ask. My brain is too overloaded with all this information. Secret agents with magic powers fighting the bad guys who apparently caused the Black Plague? And they want to use me and my strange immunity to their magic to defeat them?

I never signed up for this.