Ordinaries: Shifters Book II (Shifters series 2) (3 page)

Chapter 3

White Socks and a Secret Tunnel

–TANNER–

[Okay. We
will
already. Hold on! We have to get there, don’t we?]

Perfect! Sorry about that. My sister hates waiting. She’s so mad. She plops herself on the floor against the wall crossing her arms with a huff. I guess I will have to tell you this part. I swear, sometimes she can be so annoying.

Alright. Where were we? Oh, yeah. We saved the world, we met the president, the Keeper leader just blamed us for the attack, and he took the credit for stopping it. Basically, he just said
he
saved Earth. Seriously?

If it were up to him, the aliens would have killed us, then either taken over the world—which turns out to be occupied by ancient alien visitors that now call themselves Keepers and kill any Shifters they happen to come across—or just blown it into billions of pieces. I’m not too sure he would have been pleased with either of those options.

He may think that we chased them off for him, but what he doesn’t realize is that they
will
be back. And both of the mentioned options are
not
off the table.

So here we are, in a bunker under the White House, covered in dust, staring at each other.

“You should have let me kill him,” Kai sneers at Sol
é
.

Sol
é
gets up and tries to brush the dust off, like that is possible. She looks down at herself, clearly disappointed that her attempt at cleaning herself didn’t do any good and wrinkles her nose. Then she tilts her head at Kai, saying, “You will, Kai. Just not today.” She runs to Ryland, grabs her hand, and says, “Come on.”

Ryland looks like she is going to blow or something. She doesn’t move. Sol
é
makes a face like she just smelled the contents of Chucky’s gym locker—which is seriously bad—and explains, “We need to clean up. Come on.”

Ryland looks down at herself. Her once pink spandex has no trace of its original color. As a matter of fact, we all look terrible. She reluctantly stands and follows Sol
é
into the restroom to do whatever girls do when they go to the bathroom together.

“Why does she do that?” Kai says.

“Who? Ryland?” I ask. “She’s been really mad lately.”

“Not her. Sol
é
!” Kai says.

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“She acts like we are supposed to know everything. Like
we
can see the future or something,” Kai answers. “It’s really starting to bug me.”

“I think it’s kind of hot,” Kyle says, still looking at the door.

“Shut up!” we both say simultaneously.

I look at the door and say, “We have to get out of here.”

“We’re not getting out of here,” Kyle says. “You heard Marques. They’re going to kill us.”

“They’re not going to kill us,” Kai tells him.

“Oh, yeah,” Kyle argues. “So, they’re just going to let us out?”

“Did you not even hear your girlfriend?” I say, shaking my head at Kyle.

Kyle looks confused.

“She said,” Kai explains, “I’m going to kill Marques.”

Kyle is still not getting it. Seriously, he is some kind of computer genius, but sometimes he can be so stupid.

“But not today . . .” I tell him.

Finally a look of understanding comes to his face. “So, we get out of here,” he smiles. “How?”

I slide down to the floor and think about it. I’m not sure why I am so afraid to sit on the white furniture. Why do I care if I mess it up?

Anyway, I know we can get out, but we can’t leave everybody here. Like our family. They won’t be safe—and The Keepers can use them against us later.

“Well?” Kyle asks, clearly impatient.

“Give me a minute,” I tell him.

Okay then. I have to be smart about it. Kai can get through security, I can change the cameras and handle the locks, and Ryland can fly—if we need it. I’m not really sure how useful that is, with us being underground and all. Sol
é’
s thing isn’t much help either, but she does know we make it. Believe it or not, that is helpful.

I think about it for a while until the girls come out totally clean, wearing some white pants, white socks, and white shirts. From the look of them you totally couldn’t tell that we just fought in a war of the worlds or something. Ryland doesn’t even look mad anymore. And Sol
é
looks . . . well . . . like Sol
é
. Like everything is perfect in the world.

I wish!

“You guys are next,” Sol
é
tells us, making the same stinky face she made earlier.

One by one we clean up and put on the white clothes from the bunker. Then we all sit on the white furniture trying to figure out what to do next when the door clicks open again.

In walks someone we really don’t expect. The president and some large, official-looking guy wearing a tie that seems as though it were originally designed to be a torture device. His neck is bulging so much from the top of his collar that I wonder how he manages to breathe.

Ryland stands up like she is going to punch them. The president holds his hands up as if to say he is surrendering to her. I swear, if I didn’t know any better, I would think he’s actually afraid of her.

“Just hear me out,” he tells her.

Ryland nods reluctantly.

“May I?” he says, pointing to a chair.

Ryland nods again, and both men take a seat.

“They are charging you with terrorism,” he says casually, like he isn’t telling us we are going to be executed. Which, I suppose we probably are. Isn’t that what they do to terrorists? It’s probably better than Guantanamo.

Ryland and Kai both jump to their feet shouting, “What?”

“Listen,” he says motioning for them to sit back down. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it. It’s bad.”

I mumble, “Is that supposed to make us feel better?”

“No, I suppose not,” he says apologetically.

“Listen,” the other man says. “There are some things that even we don’t know about.”

“And you are?” Kai asks the choking tie guy.

“I’m sorry,” the president says. “This is my chief of staff.”

“Bryan Miller,” Ryland says.

Both men look slightly awed.

“I
was
in school,” Ryland says, clearly displeased with their surprise. “Until a couple of weeks ago when your people started hunting us for no reason.”

–RYLAND–

What? Why are you so shocked? I already told you that I keep up with politics. More than my dork of a brother ever did anyway. It wasn’t really by choice. Mr. Caldwell was my speech teacher last year. He made us learn about the government. I know who everyone is, what speeches they made, who reneged on their promises.

Mr. President . . .

“Anyway . . .” Bryan Miller continues hesitantly. “There may be things happening in this country that we are unaware of. We don’t often admit this, but there are people and agencies that consider the president to be a security risk.”

“Well, it’s not as though a two-thousand-year-old secret alien-hunting organization is going to open up to some guy who was just elected because he promised to lower taxes . . .” Kyle mumbles.

The president looks even more unsure of himself than earlier. We are not his typical fans, or even unaware, apathetic teenagers. He doesn’t know what to do with us.

“The point is,” he tries to continue, “that I don’t approve of Mr. Marques or his methods. Unfortunately, I can’t let you go. You are accused of terrorism and must stand trial.”

“I can tell you, however,” Bryan Miller finishes, “that no one will be guarding this door when we leave. No one will be watching the stairway on your left or the tunnel behind the third bookshelf in the room that follows.”

The president regains his composure to extend his hand. As we shake hands, he says, “We’ll be in touch. Good luck.”

Then we are left stunned and alone in an unguarded posh prison cell in the White House.

“That was weird,” Tanner says, proving once and for all what a beautiful orator he is.

“Let’s go,” I say.

We turn to gather our things before realizing that we have nothing to take. We have only ourselves and the clothes on our backs. We shuffle quietly through the door, afraid that we will encounter guards, despite the president’s words.

The hallway is empty, except for art and antique hall tables. The long, quiet corridor is eerie. We manage to slip down the staircase. I mean, literally, slip. Who thought marble stairs were a good idea? And why didn’t they provide us with shoes?

The large room we enter is impressive. It is circular with desks and tables surrounded by huge mahogany bookcases filled with gilded pages and leather-bound classics. My breath catches, and I wonder how many stories, how many lives are here in this room. It buzzes with invisible energy.

Kai heads straight for the third bookshelf, pressing against it. It slides inward and left, disappearing into a black tunnel. As we enter, I hear Kyle whimper and remember that he’s claustrophobic.

“It will be alright,” Sol
é
murmurs encouragingly. “Hold my hand.”

“Wait,” Tanner says, grabbing my arm. “We can’t leave Peanut. They have her.”

For a moment my heart catches in my throat. My little sister is somewhere in that place. She’s there.

Everything in me longs to return for her, to find her and cradle her in my arms as though to protect her from what’s already happened. I need to see her, to mourn her loss. I feel myself anchor in this place, knowing she is there.

“We have to leave her,” my cold, hard voice says, tearing me in half. “There’s no going back.”

Whoa . . . Did I just say that?

I wonder if Tanner will hate me forever for this, for leaving Peanut. I know that she will not be given a proper burial. She will never have flowers on her grave.

They will dispose of her body like some vile thing, like some piece of trash that needs to be removed. It will not be loving. It will not be gentle. It will be clinical.

I wonder if Peanut would hate me for this; I know I will hate myself for it. I know I will not forgive myself for abandoning her. I know this decision will haunt me.

We move on. We run as though we are being pursued. Perhaps we are being haunted by the ghosts of the past few days, by the guilt.

The darkness feels oppressive around me. I have no idea how wide the tunnel is. I have no idea if it branches off. For a moment I panic, that perhaps we have been separated in the darkness, that we are all heading down our own tunnels toward guards and Keepers. But I can hear the heavy breathing around me, the quiet sound of their footfalls. As light illuminates the tunnel ahead of us, a weight is lifted from my chest, and I realize that I’ve been breathing through pain, and it is lifted at last.

As we burst forth into the dying sunlight, I hear shouting. My heart freezes, and I think that we have been caught. We are dead, but the voice is familiar and comforting.

“Sol
é
!” Honor
é
calls, and I heave a sigh of relief.

We are safe. I begin to sob.

Chapter 4

We Find a Picturesque and Peaceful Garbage Dump

–
TANNER–

“Daddy!” Sol
é
cries as she runs toward a dark SUV parked in an alley.

Ryland looks at me like
I
know how they knew we were gonna be here. I just shrug. Seriously . . . does she think I know how Seers just seem to . . . know things?

I am glad someone is here to pick us up. We must look strange bursting out onto a side street dressed in all white clothes. I’m sure a bunch of teenagers with no shoes will probably be a little conspicuous. Not to mention . . . our faces have been all over the news.

Honor
é
peels his daughter off of him and opens the back door for us. “No time now,” he tells her. “They’ll be here in less than a minute.”

I look at the busy street and notice a couple of people have started watching us.

“Right,” Sol
é
agrees.

We all pile into the SUV and Honor
é
runs around to the driver’s side and takes off before we close the door. We don’t even have our seat belts on. We all fly backwards as Sol
é’
s dad strains all eight cylinders. I think that’s what you call them. I’m guessing about eight of them since we are going so fast. That’s what big cars have, isn’t it? I’m really not a mechanic or anything.

[Whatever, Ryland! I’m telling this part.]

Anyway, we all fly back except for Sol
é
. Somehow she is defying gravity and holds tightly to her mom in an awkward hug around the passenger seat. They are both crying. I think it’s a happy cry, like they have never really been separated before.

We scream around a corner and all of us—except Solé—are smashed together against the window. Like a sandwich with me as the peanut butter!

Awesome. I mean . . . I love peanut butter and all, but that doesn’t mean I want to be smashed between my sister and her boyfriend.

There! I said it. I know that she won’t admit it, but you should know. Kai
is
my sister’s boyfriend. I mean . . . they
were
holding hands before the play. And, I saw them kissing once. Well . . . I didn’t exactly
see
them, but I’m sure that’s what they were doing. Let’s see her deny it!

“Sorry,” Honor
é
says. “We should be good now.”

We rearrange ourselves and get buckled in. Judging by how nervous Sol
é’
s dad looks in the driver’s seat, I’m not so sure he is the most qualified getaway driver.

“Way to go, Dad!” Sol
é
beams as she buckles her seat belt.

“Not bad for an old man,” his wife says as she pats his leg.

“This old man still has a few tricks up his sleeve,” Honor
é
smiles.

Kyle, Kai, Ryland, and I just look at each other. I’m not sure what they think, but I don’t really feel that safe with him. I mean, it’s not like he has much experience escaping government agents—or does he? Her parents did somehow escape detection for all of these years. I think they said Sol
é
was only three, or so, when they got here. By here . . . I mean Earth, of course.

“I think you are amazing,” Sol
é
tells her dad.

Amazing is not the word that comes to mind, but we do get away so that’s better than the alternative.

“Wait,” I say. “How did you know we would be here?”

“Yeah, Mom. When did you see it?” Sol
é
asks.

“Four hours ago,” she says as she turns in her seat. I can tell she has missed her daughter. I wonder if they have ever really been apart before we took her on our . . . adventure.

“You got here in four hours?” Kyle asks. “It always took me and my dad over six hours to get to DC from Greenville.”

“We may have broken a few traffic laws on the way,” Honor
é
admits. “My beautiful wife,” he says smiling at Oc
é
ane, “told me when to slow down.”

“Like, for speed traps?” Kyle asks, his dad being a cop and all.

“My own personal radar detector,” Honor
é
says as he looks at his wife.

Oc
é
ane smiles.

“Hold on . . .” Kai says. “How did you see . . .
you
picking
us
up?”

“Yeah,” Ryland says. “I thought Seers can’t see things about themselves. That’s why we needed Sol
é
, wasn’t it?”

Sol
é
smiles proudly and says, “But Mom can.”

“What I said was Sol
é
was the most powerful of
her
generation,” Honor
é
smiles at his beautiful wife. “My lovely girl is the reason we made it to the second ship, with us living so far from the city.”

“But . . . you weren’t farmers,” Kai states. “Shifters . . . don’t farm. So why would you . . .”

“Our type of . . .” Oc
é
ane is trying to explain. “Arrangement.”

Ryland interrupts, “You’re an Ordinary.”

Oc
é
ane leans over to caress his face and says, “This handsome boy . . . is far from ordinary.”

Ryland is right. Honor
é
isn’t a Shifter, but I can tell they love each other. Talk about
Romeo and Juliet!
A Shifter fell in love with an Ordinary. Only . . . instead of killing themselves—which is totally stupid—they ran away together. Shakespeare got the ending all wrong! I always hated that stupid book. Really? They made us read a suicide story? In school?

Watching them together makes me homesick. They share something special like my mom and dad. I’m not sure if we will ever have a normal life again. It’s funny; it seemed so boring and ordinary the way we used to watch TV or eat dinner together.

Now I wish we could just be sitting at the dinner table. I remember it like yesterday. As usual, Ryland would text under the table with Alice or Melinda or both, talking about boys or something, and ignore me. I would tell Dad that Ryland was on her phone again.

I always loved it when Ryland got in trouble. I guess it was because Mom always treated her like she was the “golden child” or something.

Dad would say, “Ryland, not at the table.”

Ryland would turn to mom and whine, “Mom . . . it’s important.” Like that ever worked. Mom and Dad never disagreed about the rules.

“It’ll still be there after dinner,” Mom would tell her. “Do as your father said. Put it down now.”

“Put it down now,” Peanut would repeat.

Mom would smile proudly, clearly training our little sister in parenting techniques. I would smile as Ryland gave me a dirty look and put her phone on the table.

“How long until we get there?” Kai says, as he brings me out of my daydream.

“A couple hours,” Honor
é
says.

“I thought you said it was like four hours?” Ryland asks.

“Not where we’re going,” Oc
é
ane says.

I didn’t really notice it before, but she is really pretty. She looks just like Sol
é
, with flowing silvery hair and amazing gray eyes. She seems to have the same love of life that I see in her daughter.

When she looks back at the way Sol
é
fit herself into Kyle’s form, she isn’t protective or resistant to him. Instead, she looks at the two of them as if she believes they are meant to be together. Makes sense since Kyle and Sol
é
are kind of like her and Honor
é
.

I am not so sure our dad would look at Kai and Ryland like that. I know that Mom would not think Kai was good enough for her “perfect” daughter.

I wonder what they would think of Devon? I wonder what they
will
think of Devon? I know they’ll love her. How could they not? She’s perfect. I just have to figure out how to find her and bring her home.

“Where are we going?” Ryland asks.

I’m glad my sister is here. I’m getting too caught up in my thoughts to ask anything important.

“I am not exactly sure,” Oc
é
ane says. “It’s somewhere near Philadelphia.”

“Just to the west,” Honor
é
adds.

“Marcus and Alena,” Ryland says.

“Of course,” Kyle joins in. “We need an army.”

“And ships,” both Ryland and Kai say simultaneously.

–RYLAND–

Okay, first of all, Kai and I did not kiss. I don’t know what my idiot brother is talking about. As usual, he has his facts all wrong.

When we arrive at Marcus and Alena’s house, I’m not sure what we’re going to find. The last time we saw this place it was surrounded by Shifters and at least part of the house was on fire. I imagine the worst. It will be burned to the ground, a pile of ash and rubble.

But it isn’t. It’s perfect. It’s picturesque with its bright white trim and shutters against a charcoal gray paint. The cherry red door opens, and Alena is grinning at us as though we’ve just returned from Afghanistan rather than the White House.

Sol
é
runs up and throws her arms around Alena, grinning from ear to ear. Alena pats her gently on the back, and I wonder what her child might have been like. Gentle, I think. Alena would have raised a gentle, kindhearted, peaceful child.

“Come along,” she calls joyously to us as though we are playing out in the yard at dinnertime instead of going inside. “The others are around back, practicing.”

“Who?” Tanner asks.

Alena just waves us inside, smiling.

As we enter the house, my jaw nearly hits the floor. Their neat and tidy charmer is now a garbage dump. There are cans of soda littering the floor, old slices of pizza are lying on couch cushions, and half finished bowls of cereal precariously lying in wait for someone to knock them over. Perhaps so they can join the party.

What happened here? Marcus and Alena are not party people. They aren’t even messy people. This can’t be the same house.

When we reach the backyard, the tornado inside begins to make sense to me. There are almost a hundred kids outside. Some of them are younger than us, but many are around our age or just a bit older.

They aren’t just practicing. A full-out war is being waged in the backyard cityscape arena. Keeper kids and Shifter Young are battling together, fighting for their lives.

When we step outside, the fighting ceases. Everyone turns to stare at us. I know that we’re dressed oddly, but I didn’t realize that we were going to cause this kind of reaction.

Then . . . everyone begins to applaud! I look at Tanner, and eyes wide, mouth open, he grins. We’ve found our army. Or at least a good chunk of it.

A fifteen or sixteen-year-old guy wearing tattered, saggy blue jeans and a white t-shirt approaches me first. He has eyes bluer than the summer sky, and his hair is that perfect straight blond that male models dream about. His tan skin glistens with a sheen of sweat, but he smells like sandalwood.

He extends a hand, and my stomach rolls around on the ground like an excited puppy, making me want to vomit all over the dreamy new guy. God, please don’t let me puke.

I extend a shaky hand in return, and he says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ryland. My name is Clay.”

His hand feels warm and rough like a farm boy’s. I could just about die right now with his hand around mine. Then I remember Kai, and glance over at him out of the corner of my eye.

Kai is not looking at me. He is surveying the crowd slowly. He is assessing every member of this ragtag band of misfits. He is counting, judging strengths and weaknesses. He is planning how we will use every last one of them. He isn’t noticing the gorgeous guy staring down at me at all.

A small part inside me sighs before turning back to Clay. He looks down at me with bright, shining eyes. He looks at me as though he sees his future and his hope. It makes my insides turn to that lime green jello we talked about before.

“Clay,” Tanner says, offering his hand. “I’m Tanner.”

Clay laughs as he withdraws his hand from mine to shake Tanner’s. “We all know who you are. You and Ryland are famous. You’re the heroes of Olympus, the founders of Rome, the conquering heroes who will lead us to victory on our home world.”

Tanner’s smile wavers at that. No pressure, guys, but we basically view you as our liberators. Get on that, will you?

“Ummm . . . Yeah, well about that . . . we’re going to need ships first. Pilots. Maps. A plan,” Tanner stumbles.

“Oh, we’re on it,” Clay says with a sloppy, sideways grin that melts my insides like butter on a hot pancake. “I’ll be your chauffeur.”

“You’re a pilot?” Kyle piques up from the back. “How can you be? You can’t be more than sixteen.”

Clay nods at Kyle. “My dad was one of the pilots. He taught me everything he knew before he . . .” Clay pauses, looking at me for a moment. His eyes are sad.

“What happened?” I whisper. I know I shouldn’t. It’s private, but I can’t help myself.

“Leukemia. Last year,” he whispers back, voice almost broken. Then he brightens. “I have maps, and I know of some more . . . experienced pilots.” His grin is back.

I realize then that Clay must be an Ordinary from our home world, Gaia. His father was a pilot. They were never in any danger from the Keepers. He could have stayed here, on Earth, perfectly safe. He is choosing to fight this war, to make it his own.

“Lead the way,” Tanner says, taking charge.

We approach a burned-out concrete building toward the center of the cityscape, everyone parting around us as though we are celebrities rather than kids just like them. Inside, they’ve set up a command center. Computer monitors line the walls, and star charts cover the tables.

Marcus is in the middle of the room, speaking to several kids, assigning various tasks. When he sees us, he breaks into a wide grin. “I’m so glad you’re here. Honor
é
and Oc
é
ane, thank you so much for seeing to the children’s safe arrival here.”

“What is all of this?” Tanner asks, excited as a kid on Christmas morning.

“Well,” Clay says, “We knew that you’d be coming soon, so we wanted to get ready.”