Page 42 of Flash Fire (The Extraordinaries 2)

“How did people live without streaming?” Nick wondered aloud as he dropped the flap, looking around. Next to the TV was a cardboard box, unmarked. He lifted the lid. Inside were stacks of tapes without labels. He turned back to the TV and pressed the power button, blinking against the blue wash that covered the screen.

“I swear to god, if this is one of Dad’s pornos, I’m going to be scarred forever,” he mumbled.

He pressed play.

The VCR whirred and clicked as the tape began to play.

A park. The sun was shining. Summer, maybe? The trees were green, and the sky was so blue it looked fake. Clouds, thick and fluffy, hung suspended in the sky. And then the camera swung down to show a blanket spread out on the grass, the remains of a meal lying discarded—and a woman sitting on the blanket, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail.

Nick fell back against the floor, mouth open but no sound coming out.

Jennifer Bell said, “What are you doing? Are you filming me?” She shook her head as she smiled. “Stop it. I’m not wearing any makeup.”

And then Dad said, “You’re beautiful. The camera loves you, baby.”

She laughed, and Nick couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t get air into his lungs, because he’d never seen this before. He’d never known these memories existed. Anger, quick and bright, roared through him, but he shoved it away as he continued to watch.

The bottom of the screen showed the date in white letters and numbers. A few years before he’d been born.

The camera zoomed in on her face as she blushed. “There it is,” Dad said, and he sounded so happy—so free—that Nick had to rub the ache in his chest. “Hello, wife.”

She rolled her eyes. “Hello, husband. You still say it like it’s a new thing. We’ve been married for four years.”

“I want everyone to know,” Dad said. He raised his voice to a shout. “This is my wife and I love her!” The screen shook as Dad spun the camera. “Do you hear me, world? This is mywifeand she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me!”

“Oh my god,stop,” Mom said, though she didn’t seem like she meant it. “You’re such a dork.”

“Nah,” Dad said easily as he focused on her again. “I want everyone in the park to know I love you.”

“I think they get it,” she said, and she gave the camera a funny little smile, one that Nick recognized from the mirror. He looked like her. Hesoundedlike her. How the hell could Dad stand to be in his presence when Before had become After? “You’re going to get us in trouble. What are you going to do when the police come and ask about the crazy man with the camera?”

“Noted,” Dad said. “Wouldn’t want the police. They’d just put you to work again.”

Her smile faded. “I told you, Aaron. Today isn’t about that. I’m here, okay? You and me.”

Dad sighed. “Yeah, I know. That was a shitty thing to say. Hey, I’m sorry.”

Mom looked relieved. “And I accept your apology. Come on. Lie down with me. Let’s look at the clouds and see what we see.”

And they did, though the camera shot never really left Mom’s face. They were speaking in low tones, sayingthatcloud looked like a dog, andthatcloud looked like a dragon, see? There’s the tail. The wings. The head with the horns.

“Nick?”

He jerked his head back toward the hatch. Jazz was climbing up into the attic, a concerned expression on her face. They both startled when a box near her suddenlyjumpedand fell over against the wall. “Uh,” she said, “that was weird. How did— Oh, Nicky. What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

He reached up and touched his cheeks. His fingers came away wet. “Look,” he said in a choked voice. He turned back to the TV as Jazz moved toward him.

She settled next to him on her knees just as Mom turned her face toward the camera. Her eyes were bright and knowing. “This is a good day,” she whispered.

“The best,” Dad whispered back.

“Is that—” Jazz leaned forward, face inches from the screen. “That’s your mom.”

Nick nodded dumbly.

“She looks like I remember,” Jazz said quietly as she sat back on her legs. “Maybe a little younger, but almost the same.”

“I’ve never seen this before,” Nick said dully. “Dad never told me.”