The Boy Who Knew Everything (32 page)

Piper considered this answer. “If you hadn't flown I would've died.”

“Yes,” said Letitia with a shaking voice. “It was good—my flying helped.”

Piper offered Letitia her hand and Letitia placed her trembling fingers on Piper's small ones.

“There is a boy named Max, and he has tricked us all into being afraid of our abilities and made other people afraid of them too.”

“Max?” Letitia let the name settle into her and it opened her mind like a key. “Yes, I remember now. Max. Yes, his name is Max. He was the one who took my memory away.”

Piper nodded. “He did the same thing to Conrad's father, and everyone else for that matter.” Piper turned to the others. “Conrad figured out the truth and Max is behind everything. It's up to us to stop him.” Piper knew, without having to ask, that her friends would stay at her side and fight, no matter where that fight might take them. But they weren't enough—they would need everyone.

Piper turned to Letitia. “Will you join us, Dr. Hellion?”

“Me?” Letitia Hellion drew her hand away in surprise. After everything she had done to hurt these kids, how could they possibly want anything to do with her? “You want me?”

“We want everyone, but especially you.” Piper shrugged. “If you're able to change your mind then there's hope for everyone else, too.”

Letitia Hellion inhaled Piper's sentiment so that it would reach every place in her body. When she was able she nodded her wholehearted agreement. Not long after that Piper related in detail the happenings of the time in Xanthia, and the kids were shocked to learn the truth, overcome with emotion, passionate about the cause, and ready to do as Conrad had asked of them.

“We should move out.” J., in particular, was ready to get going and had already gathered his backpack and prepared to leave. “Max already has a head start and we don't want to lose him.”

“No,” Piper disagreed. “Conrad wants us to take care of something else first.”

Piper then flew them to Xanthia with Letitia's help. Once there, Piper did not look at that beautiful place the same way; the truth had changed everything.

“My son? Where is my son?” were the first words out of Harrington's blue lips once he had been released from his icy prison and healed by Jasper.

It nearly broke Piper's heart to look at Harrington, so striking was the similarity between father and son.

“I am here for Conrad,” Piper explained to him, valiantly keeping the quaver out of her voice. “Because he can't be.”

And then Piper took Harrington deep into Mother Mountain and Starr stopped what she was doing and put down her rock for the last time. She held out her arms to her son and they held each other for so long and with such joy that Mother Mountain herself trembled with their salvation.

It was with great satisfaction that Harrington broke the bloodstone from around his mother's neck, and no sooner had the evil thing been crushed than Starr's gruesome lumps and humps dispersed. As if by magic, Starr returned to her graceful and lithe form, albeit with a few gray hairs and wrinkles.

Piper was careful to bear witness to every word and feeling because it was such a grand victory: Conrad's victory—a testament to his smarts and his sacrifice—and no one understood that better than she. The next time she saw him, she promised herself, she would tell him everything.

*   *   *

When the kids returned to Lowland County, much to the delight of Betty and Joe McCloud, not to mention Fido, they had precious little time to rest with Max on the loose and up to no good. After everything that had happened in Xanthia, Max was more desperate than ever to feed off the energy of havoc and mayhem, and the kids had to react quickly to the various emergencies at hand. First Max staged an international incident designed to ignite a world war and the kids had to rescue hostages and expose key evidence to foil his plans. Next Max showed up in the Middle East with a rare strain of a deadly flu virus and the kids worked as a team to keep it contained. Seemingly there was no end to Max's devious plans, but no matter how tired or disheartened, the kids battled on and on, yearning daily for the genius of their fallen friend.

But even in their darkest hours Piper refused to give up and would say confidently, “We've been through worse. When Conrad gets back he'll want to know that we gave nothing less than our best.” To which no one had the heart to suggest to Piper that Conrad would most likely not be coming back—which was what they feared. Not Piper, though.

“Conrad is our friend,” Piper would remind them. “He wouldn't leave us. He'll be back as soon as he can and when he gets here he'll know exactly what to do—just like old times.” And despite everything the kids would put aside their fears and believe Piper McCloud and rise to the fight with everything they had, exactly as Conrad had trained them to do, and would have wanted.

 

CHAPTER

48

Bella Lovely was weeding in her mother's vegetable garden, preparing it for the winter months ahead. It had been a decent harvest that year but there was nothing but dry stalks and wilting plants now. It was Bella's job to trim away the old to make way for the new growth of the coming spring. She had been working for hours when the sound of birds filled the air, and not just one bird, but hundreds of them. Getting to her feet, Bella scanned the sky, catching sight of an approaching mass of fluttering wings. The flock was flying straight for her and she watched them with curiosity and wonder.

Cupping her hands over her eyes to cut the glare of the sun, Bella suddenly noticed that the lead bird was no bird at all … it was a girl.

It was the girl who could fly.

Bella trembled at the sight of the girl, overjoyed and self-righteous all at the same time; she knew it, she'd known it all along. Finally she had proof.

Like a gunslinger in a Western she whipped her iPhone from her back pocket and clicked pictures and took video. There was a growing movement of Seekers just like her, and these pictures would feed them like manna from heaven.

Even after the girl who could fly and all the birds were long gone Bella kept her eyes on the sky. She wished she could go with them, that she could be part of whatever was happening.

Sighing, Bella holstered her iPhone and reluctantly drew her gaze down. No sooner had her eyes lowered than she gasped and started, unable to believe what she saw. Bella was suddenly standing in a garden that was in full bloom! While Bella had been distracted her dead plants had come back to life; the flowers had bloomed and the vines were bursting with ripe fruit and vegetables.

Bella's skin tingled.
How could this have happened? What made my garden transform?

Bella had no answers, only questions bubbling inside her, and throughout the rest of her day everything she came into contact with began to blossom. That night she uploaded her pictures and videos onto the web. All across the nation Seekers feverishly drank in every pixel and watched the footage over and over. They wrote about it too.

The time has come
.
The future is here. Rise up. Rise up.

 

CHAPTER

49

He had no shoes, no water, no identification, and no memory. On a day when the temperatures hovered above 130º he had been discarded like a dirty candy wrapper on a lonely stretch of Nevada's Highway 93. By the time Officer Felt picked him up his skin was flaming a deep angry red and flowering with blisters.

“What's your name?” Officer Felt badgered, like he was accusing him of stealing.

The boy looked at Felt with endless confusion. Everything startled him—the car, the doors, even the way Officer Felt spoke.

“Where ya from? Vegas?” Felt waited for the boy to answer. “You get lost or something?”

The boy had no answer.

The precinct in Wells, Nevada, was so small it consisted of nothing more than a small office and a holding cell. They placed him in the cell with an old man who was sprawled haphazardly on the floor, snoring loudly. He had to gingerly step over him and huddle in the corner.

The woman who came for him introduced herself as a social worker from Child Protective Services. She asked a lot of questions he couldn't answer.

“What's your name?”

He shrugged.

“Where are you from?”

He looked away.

“Who are your parents?”

He had no answer.

He was shivering from dehydration so she gave him some water. He said no more.

No sooner had the social worker completed her assessment than Peter Harrington walked into the small Wells police station and approached the front desk.

Ever since he'd been woken by the kids in Xanthia and learned that Conrad's body had not been recovered, Harrington had been filled with hope. It wasn't a hope he wanted to share with the kids because he didn't want to create false expectations that might or might not come true, and frankly, when you are dealing with someone like Max there's no certainty whatsoever. All the same Harrington knew that Max was a creature of habit and had a thirst for symmetry, as well as a twisted delight in having fun. Nothing would tickle Max quite so much as having history repeat itself again, thanks to him.

It made Harrington feel queasy to see that the precinct hadn't changed in the forty years since the day they had brought him in off the side of the road. The police officer by the front desk lumbered to his feet when he approached.

“Afternoon,” said Officer Felt. “Can I help you?”

“Yes,” Harrington said, smiling. “I am—”

Before he could continue Officer Felt put his hand up in surprise. “Hey, anyone ever tell you how much you look like President Harrington? God rest his soul.”

Harrington nodded and shrugged it off good-naturedly. “Yes, I've heard that before, but my name is Peter.”

“It's like you're twins. Got the same eyes, same hair.”

“As I said,” said Peter, “it's a coincidence.”

Officer Felt instantly accepted the explanation and felt no need to think on it further: like a thought had been placed inside his head that wasn't his own.

“I understand that you picked up a boy today,” Peter said, and smiled. He'd been monitoring the police frequencies for weeks waiting to hear the call.

“Yeah,” said Officer Felt, wiping the sweat from his brow and leaning against the desk. He knew better than to give out information, but there was just something about this Peter guy that was so friendly he couldn't help himself. “I gotta tell you it was the darnedest thing. I was driving down ninety-three and I sees him wandering around like a stray dog. It was hotter than Hades out there and this kid is burnt to a crisp. Heck if I know how long he's been out there. So I pulls over and talks to him and he can't put two words together. Doesn't even know his name. A mess, I tell ya. I got Child Services on the line pronto.”

Peter nodded and smiled. “I'll take a look at him.”

The idea wormed itself into Officer Felt's brain, but he resisted. “Well, now, that ain't protocol.…”

“Of course,” Peter said understandingly. “It would be a big help, though.”

Officer Felt's face was suspicious, but Peter's words washed the lines off his forehead. He smiled affably and shrugged.

“Guess it couldn't hurt. Right?”

“No, it wouldn't hurt at all,” Peter agreed.

“Right this way.”

Officer Felt led Peter through the office and into the holding area.

The memory of the place almost knocked Peter off his feet. The boy huddled in the corner of the room, burned and shaking, looking but not seeing with vacant blue eyes.

“I guess you have work to do,” Peter said to Officer Felt.

“You bet I do,” Officer Felt agreed, even though there was exactly nothing that he needed to do. Still, he turned and left the room.

Peter looked at the sad offering of a boy before him and shook his head in disbelief. The boy's blond hair was full of sand and dust and his clothes were nothing more than shredded rags.

Peter walked slowly to the middle of the room and sat down opposite the boy, crossing his legs. The boy watched him with curiosity.

“My name is Peter, and I have been waiting for you,” he told him.

“For me?” The boy's lips were cracked and bleeding and his voice was hoarse.

“Yes. For you.”

“D-d-do you know me?” The boy's face created a painful picture of hope.

“I know everything about you. I know where you come from and where you are going. More than that, I know what is in you.”

The boy let out a long shaky breath of relief. “Really?”

“Your name is Conrad and today is your birthday.”

“My birthday?”

“Yes, you are thirteen years old today. And you are very, very smart.”

“But … I don't know anything.”

“Then I will help you remember again.”

Conrad nodded, satisfied and relieved by Peter's calm assurance.

“Peter?”

“Yes.”

Conrad struggled to arrange his thoughts. “Who are you?”

“I am your father. I am here to claim you and take you home. Okay?”

“Okay.”

For some reason that he would never be able to explain to Child Protective Services, Officer Felt let Peter take the boy away without so much as showing a single piece of identification.

All Peter said was, “It's probably best that the boy comes with me.”

The minute Peter said it, it seemed like the most natural and most reasonable course of action in the world to Officer Felt. “Sure thing,” he said, and waved them out of the station.

Conrad's body was stiff and sore and he had a hard time walking to where his father had parked the car. Peter slowed his pace and patiently walked next to him. Suddenly they both stopped, arrested by the sound of a thousand birds passing overhead. As they looked up at the sky it began to fill with birds, and leading the birds was a girl.