The Awakening (8 page)

14

R
ENATA TRIED TO PIECE TOGETHER WHAT
had happened to her, tried to understand how she had suddenly come to be in this place.

The last thing she could clearly remember was Josh Dalton kissing her on the forehead before he flew back into action.

A couple of minutes after that, one of Ragnarök’s goons spotted her just as she spotted him. The man had raised his gun and fired, but not before Renata had changed into her invulnerable state.

The man had fired over and over, but the bullets had bounced harmlessly off her.

And then…what?

She didn’t understand.

Until now, she’d always been fully conscious while she was in diamond form, aware of everything around her. She would always wait until she knew that it was safe before she reverted to her human form. But this time something different had happened.

One minute she’d been watching Ragnarök’s henchman trying to find a way to hurt her and the next she was here, in this place, on the floor, wracked with pain.

So where the hell am I?
she wondered.
Where’s everyone else? Maybe Ragnarök has a teleportation device. Maybe he zapped me with it and sent me here.

She went up to the door again and listened. A few minutes earlier, she’d heard two men talking nearby. Now, there was silence.

Renata carefully eased open the door and glanced out. She stepped out onto a wide metal walkway, one of many that were suspended around the edges of a large open area.

Some sort of cave. There has to be a way out other than by teleportation.

The complex was made up of a series of large caverns connected to each other by winding tunnels, corridors and stairwells. Each of the caverns was at least three stories high. There didn’t seem to be any windows anywhere in the complex: no vents or doorways that led to the outside world.

Affixed to one wall Renata found a very old map that showed she was in an abandoned gold mine, but apart from that it wasn’t much use; although a few of the old tunnels were still there, most of them had been filled in, replaced with newer tunnels that didn’t match the map.

At the lowest level, Renata found a large, mostly empty cavern, four stories high, surrounded by levels and walkways. She was hiding in the shadows on a gantry close to the ceiling of the cavern.

So far she had managed to avoid being spotted, but she figured it wouldn’t be long before someone went into the storeroom and realized that the diamond statue had gone. She knew that she should probably keep moving, but this was the best hiding place so far.

Below, at the very center of the cavern, was a large silver ball, two meters in diameter. It was spinning rapidly, floating unsupported in midair a meter above a large metal base.

What
is
that thing?
she wondered.

A dozen technicians were working on the machinery that was connected by thick cables to the ball’s platform.

Whatever it is, it’s important,
she decided.

As she watched, one of the technicians called out, “Mr. Cross? We’re ready.”

A young man in his early twenties approached. “I don’t want any more power surges like the last one.”

“That won’t happen,” the technician assured him.

“OK…Everyone step back. Laurie? Fire it up.”

There was a brief flash of light and the ball began to rotate faster.

She heard the technician say, “Activating the null-field.”

There was a second flash of light from the ball and the technicians all took another step back.

“It’s steady. Three-meter radius, Victor.”

Cross asked, “So who wants to test it?”

There were no volunteers.

“All right,” the young man said. “I’ll do it.” He took a pen from his pocket and threw it at the ball.

The pen disappeared.

Renata crouched down, trying to get a better view.

“Looks like it’s working,” Cross said. “Let’s see how close we can get.” He took out a second pen and, holding it in front of him at arm’s length, walked forward cautiously.

When he was about three meters away from the ball, the tip of the pen disappeared.

Renata watched as he pulled the pen back and examined the end of it.

“OK,” Cross said, tossing the ruined pen aside. “We’ll need the data from the kid before we can calibrate the nucleus. Everyone get some rest. It’s going to be a long night.”

When the last of the technicians had left, Renata silently climbed down to the floor, carefully avoiding the huge spinning ball.

She found the discarded pen and took a close look. It was as though an incredibly sharp knife had sliced off the nib.

Just as the man called Victor Cross had done, Renata held the pen out in front of her and slowly approached the nucleus.

She watched, fascinated, as the end of the pen disappeared.

So what’s a null-field?
she asked herself. Then she looked up at the silver ball.
And what’s this all about? Why does it need such a lethal defense?

Her stomach growled and she realized that she was hungry. She had a look around the room in the half hope that someone had left a sandwich lying around, but found nothing edible. There was a jacket hanging on the back of a swivel chair and Renata went through the pockets, but all she found was a folded newspaper. She was about to put the newspaper back when she spotted a familiar face on the front page.

It was Max Dalton.

That’s not a good photo
, Renata thought to herself.
It makes him look old.

She unfolded the newspaper to read the article, then spotted the headline: “Mystery Day—Tenth Anniversary Exclusive!”

Mystery Day?

As she read the article accompanying Max’s photo, Renata felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck.

“Maxwell Edwin Dalton—billionaire founder of MaxEdDal Pharmaceuticals—yesterday spoke out for the first time about the events of Mystery Day. Following his interview on
The Garth Russell Show,
Dalton held a short press conference. Reading from a prepared statement, he said, ‘I wish to thank everyone for their support over the past ten years. I know that my siblings and I have remained silent and I realize how frustrating that may have been for many of you, but in our defense we lost some very good friends that day. We honestly do not know what happened when they went up against Ragnarök’s battle-tank. Likewise, we don’t know what happened to the other superhumans, be they heroes or villains.’”

This is impossible!
Renata told herself.
It’s a hoax. It
has
to be!

She checked the date on the top of the page; it was ten years later than it should have been.

No, this is crazy! Someone’s playing a trick on me!

But even as she thought that, Renata knew it couldn’t be true.

She looked around the room, hoping to find something—anything—that would prove that the newspaper was a fake.

Because if it
wasn’t
a fake…

None of Renata’s family had known about her powers. Max had told her that they would be safer not knowing.

If it
is
real, that means that as far as my family and friends know, I’ve been missing for
ten years!

Her hands shaking, Renata skipped to the end of the article: “In closing his statement, Dalton said, ‘All that I can conclude is that superhumans—myself included—are an aberration. An inexplicable blip on the human race. The Earth was not designed for us, but for ordinary humans. Our time has now passed. My sister, my brother and I would like to leave those days behind us, leave the past buried with our friends Energy, Apex, Thalamus, Titan, Paragon and the others. Though our friends—and every other superhuman on the planet—are now long gone, they will not be forgotten. They will never be forgotten.’”

15

“I’
M SORRY, SIR
. I
DON’T HAVE A PUBLIC
listing for a Solomon Cord in New York,” the operator said. “Your friend could be ex-directory.”

“OK, thanks anyway,” Colin said. He hung up the phone.

He was in a large shopping mall about seven kilometers west of the airport. According to the ornate clock that was set into a fountain in the center of the mall, it was one o’clock.

He still had the ten dollars Marie had given him, but—despite the hunger gnawing at his stomach—he refused to let himself buy any of the delicious-looking doughnuts from the café opposite the bank of phones.

Colin had managed to get this far only because of the free bus service from the airport to the mall.

As he was about to walk away from the phone, he spotted a poster offering to help out runaway kids. Beneath a photo of a wide-eyed little boy were the words, “Lost? Scared? We want to help! Call our toll-free number! 1-800-HERE-4-U. Confidentiality assured.”

It’s worth a shot,
Colin decided. He phoned the number.

“We’re here for you,” a woman’s voice said. “How can we help you?”

“I…” Colin stopped. He didn’t know what he was going to say.

The woman assumed his hesitancy was fear: “Are you OK? Are you lost?”

“Sort of…Look, my name is Colin Wagner. I was kidnapped. I’ve escaped, but I don’t really know where I am.”

“I see. Where are you calling from?”

“A shopping mall. It’s called The Twin Pines, or something like that.”

“I know it. Do you want me to contact the police?”

“No! No, sorry, I don’t trust them.”

“Can you tell me why?”

“The kidnappers said that they had people working with the police.”

“All right…,” the woman said. “How old are you? Where are you from? How did you escape?”

Colin told her a shortened version of his story—leaving out the truth about his parents’ past—and finished with, “I have ten dollars. How far would that get me?”

“About as far as the door,” she said. “If you want to get to New York on ten dollars, you’ll have to go back in time about a hundred years.”

Despite the seriousness of his situation, Colin couldn’t help laughing at that. “What can I do?”

“If you really don’t want to talk to the police, we can send someone to pick you up. They’ll take you to a shelter for the night. At least you’ll get a warm bed and a good meal. You can also talk to a counselor, if you like.”

Less than an hour later, Colin was sitting on the edge of the fountain when he was approached by a short, fat, balding man. “Are you Colin?” he asked, sounding a little nervous. He pronounced it “Coe-lin.”

Colin nodded.

“Hi. My name’s Gene.” He showed Colin an ID card. “I’m going to take you to the shelter. Is that OK?”

“Thanks,” Colin said, getting to his feet. He was surprised to find that he was taller than Gene. “What did the woman on the phone tell you?”

“Just that you needed a lift. They tell us only the bare minimum. But you can feel free to talk to me about anything you like. I’m training to be a counselor.”

They walked out into the parking lot. “You’re not from around here?” Gene asked.

“No.”

“That’s fine.”

Gene’s car was a huge, brand-new sport-utility vehicle. He noticed Colin’s expression. “Nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s great. My dad’s car is about half this size.”
Or was,
he added to himself.

“What sort of mileage does he get?”

“I’ve no idea.”

Gene opened the passenger door and let Colin in. “This baby’ll do twelve in the city, maybe sixteen on the open road.”

“That’s not bad,” Colin said, though he didn’t know whether it really was bad or good.

Gene climbed into the driver’s seat and put on his belt. “OK, then. Let’s go.”

They drove out of the parking lot and—after a series of turns and junctions that Colin found completely baffling—onto the freeway. Colin felt weird, sitting in what he felt should be the driver’s seat.

“So have you been doing this long?” Colin asked. “Helping kids, I mean.”

“A couple of years,” Gene said. “I took early retirement and needed something to fill my time.” He turned to Colin and smiled. “I’m really only a driver, for the moment. But it’s good work. Very satisfying.”

“Do you have to pick up many people?”

“A couple a week. Though it gets a little worse around the holidays. Lot of kids can’t take the pressure at home. That the case with you?”

“No, not really.”

“That’s fine.” He paused. “You want to talk about it?”

“No, sorry.”

“That’s fine.”

Colin couldn’t help smiling to himself. Everything seemed to be fine for this man.

“You celebrate Mystery Day in your part of the world?”

“We do,” Colin said. “Doesn’t every country?”

“Yeah, I guess…We had a big parade in Jacksonville, lots of guys dressed up as superheroes. Most of them were Titan, of course. Here’s a story for you: I met him once.”

“You met Titan?”

“Sure did. He saved my life. This was…oh, about sixteen years ago. Remember a villain called Terrain?” Before Colin could answer, Gene said, “No, of course you don’t. I forgot. You’re too young to remember him. But you’ve heard about him, right?”

“I have.”

“Well, I was working in construction at the time. We were putting up an apartment complex. Expensive place, riverside view and everything. And there I am, working away—I was a plasterer—and the whole damn building begins to shake. We thought, ‘Earthquake!’ and we got out of the building as fast as we could. And outside we saw Terrain and Titan beating the living crap out of each other. Terrain was using his powers to throw cinder blocks and huge chunks of the sidewalk at Titan. Then he saw us standing in front of the building and he made this sort of gesture with his hand…” Gene held up his hand palm out, then clenched his fist and pulled back. “Next thing we know, the whole damn building is coming down. And Titan flies up to us, grabs hold of me and my buddy Carl and pulls us out of the way. We didn’t even get a chance to thank him, because Terrain had split and Titan went after him. Pretty cool, eh?” Gene said.

“Yeah.”

“Did you have many superheroes back home?”

“A couple.”

“I wish I knew what happened to them. A lot of folks say that they were all killed, but I don’t believe that. They couldn’t’ve
all
been killed. What about the ones who weren’t in Pittsburgh that day? Why haven’t they shown up?”

“Maybe they decided to retire.”

“Nah…How could you give up something like that? You know what my wife thinks? She thinks that they never really existed. She says that it was all a stunt rigged by the government to make all the crooks think that there was more to worry about than the cops. I say to her, ‘Bridget, if they didn’t exist, then I was flattened under a thousand tons of concrete and steel, and I’ve been
imagining
the past sixteen years.’” He laughed.

“If someone
was
making it all up,” Colin said, “why would they stop?”

Gene nodded. “Good point. Good point.”

“Do you know what happened to Paragon?”

“Oh, that guy. Bridget calls him ‘the creepy one,’ ’cause of how he used to just sort of skulk around in the shadows. I guess he went the same way as the others, whatever that was.”

“It’s just that I’ve been thinking about him a lot…If all the superhumans died or just disappeared, then what about their secret identities? Wouldn’t there be people thinking, ‘I haven’t seen Uncle Pete since the day all the heroes disappeared’?”

“You’re a smart kid, Colin.”

“Thanks.”

“You doing OK in school?”

“About average.”

“Got any brothers or sisters?”

“There’s just me.” Colin decided to switch the conversation away from himself. “What about you? Any children?”

“We have a son in medical college. He’s getting married after he graduates. A real nice girl, she is. I have to tell you, I’m real proud of him. I should have done something like that, you know? Something to help people.”

“My dad’s a paramedic,” Colin said.

“Yeah?” Gene steered the car onto the freeway’s exit ramp. “Good work, that. What about you? Are you going to follow in your father’s footsteps?”

“I hope so.” Colin couldn’t help wondering where his parents were now, whether he’d ever see them again.

The task ahead of him seemed impossible.

A week ago all I had to worry about was getting my homework done and remembering when it was my turn to peel the potatoes.

His mouth was suddenly dry; Colin felt as though he were trying to swallow sand.

Now I’m on my own in God-knows-where and my parents and my best friend have been taken hostage. What if they’re already dead?

“Hey,” Gene said. “You OK, Colin?”

Colin brushed the tears away from his eyes. “Yeah, I’m OK. Allergies.”

“Uh-huh…You sure you don’t want to talk about what’s going on?”

“I wish I could. But…it’s complicated. Sorry.”

“No, no, that’s fine. We’re here to make things easier for young people like yourself, not to make things harder! You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Without pausing, Gene changed the subject: “It’ll take us about thirty minutes to get to the shelter. Traffic is crazy downtown. It’s been getting worse the past few years.” They turned right into a residential area, where they made another complicated series of turns.

Colin was looking out of the window. “Some of these houses are huge!”

“Yeah, this is what you might call an upmarket area. I have to tell you, Colin, the shelter is not in the best part of town. It can be a pretty rough area. Fact is, I’m going to park half a mile or so from the shelter. You don’t mind walking the rest of the way?”

“No. Listen, thanks for this. I can’t pay you back.”

“You don’t owe me anything. We’re here to help. I mean, if my boy was in trouble, I’d like to think that there would be someone he could turn to for help.”

Eventually, Gene steered the car into the parking lot of a small mall, found a spot and shut off the engine. “OK…Colin, you ever spend the night in a shelter before?”

“No.”

“Right. There’s a few things you should know. You’re about twelve or thirteen, right? Well, most of the other kids are fifteen, sixteen, some are older. They can be pretty tough. When we get there, I’m going to hand you over to one of the helpers. You stick with them, do exactly what they say, OK? If any of the other kids give you trouble, try to get to one of the helpers. If there’s no one around, whatever you do, don’t accept anything from the other kids. You got that?”

Colin nodded.

“I’m serious. Don’t eat, drink or smoke anything they give you, no matter what they say. The bad kids tend to hang around in gangs of three or four. They’ll want to check you out. Best thing to do is say as little as possible. Don’t make eye contact if you can avoid it. They call you any names, don’t respond.”

“OK,” Colin said. “Thanks.”

“Let’s go, then.”