Mindburst
Chapter One — Promise
Alex glanced up from her math quiz, the hurried scratching of pencils on paper grating at her ability to concentrate. Five minutes left and she had only answered one problem. No chance of finishing, now. The room was otherwise silent—but for Alex, jumbled voices screamed inside her mind.
...twenty divided by four is...
...think, think, think...
...thirteen hundred miles? That can’t be right...
Closing her eyes, Alex struggled to mindblock the thoughts and emotions that swarmed around her. The effort only made her head hurt more. But gradually, the voices softened to a murmur until the only emotion left was her own—anticipation. Only two more hours until—
She opened her eyes again, Mr. Flannery staring at her, his gaze burning into her thoughts.
“Miss Delaney,” he said, smoothing down the blond stalk of hair that always stuck up on the back of his head. His other hand sort of twitched at her, disapprovingly. “Please keep your eyes—and mind—on your own paper.”
“But I’m not—”
A finger to his lips cut off her protest.
—cheating. Although maybe she should. Glancing across the room, she knew that Red would give her the answers if she wanted him to. Or she could just pluck the answers from minds of the kids around her. How would anyone even know? But right now, all she wanted was to speed up time and be done with this class, an ability she hadn’t learned to do. At least not yet.
The bell rang and twenty-three other twelve- and thirteen-year-olds filed to the front of the classroom, planting their quizzes on Mr. Flannery’s desk. Alex sat there sighing at her own nearly-empty paper before falling in behind Red. His paper was covered in little geometric designs, she noticed. More importantly, he had answers for every problem on the page. The right ones, no doubt. She rushed past Mr. Flannery, slipping her quiz onto the pile.
“Miss Delaney,” he said, his nasally voice cutting into her.
She flinched, tempted to pretend she hadn’t heard. Red was waiting for her just outside the doorway.
Turning around, she swallowed. “Yes, Mr. Flannery?”
Her test dangled from his fingertips. “Just what, exactly, have you been doing for the past hour? Clearly, not cheating.”
Alex stared at the floor.
Mr. Flannery set the paper down. “You’re smarter than this. Though, frankly, I would have preferred it if you had been cheating. That’s something I could deal with. But this...”
Her gaze met his.
“I spoke with Dr. Felstoy about your declining performance, and he agrees with me that there’s something going on. Or should I say, someone going on? You’re supposed to see your little sister later today, are you not?”
She nodded, hesitantly.
“As I figured. Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to report this...” His finger fell to the pile of math tests. “...to Dr. Felstoy.”
Without warning, the word burst from her lips. “No!”
Mr. Flannery sat back, as though to pondering her reaction.
“I’ll do better,” she said. “I just need to focus more, is all. Let me take the test again. I’ll ace it this time. I promise.”
“I’m sorry, Alex. I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way.”
“Please!”
Mr. Flannery pressed his lips into a tight line.
Just then, an impulse washed over Alex from the hallway. A mindburst, out in the open where any of the guards could have sensed it. Alex spun around, a knot tightening in her stomach. Red was standing there, eyes half squinting.
Kevin rushed into view, clawing at the back of his pants. “You’re gonna pay, Redding!”
Red caught Alex’s eye, then winked at her. Another mindburst, and Red’s body flung up against the wall, pinned there for several seconds before plummeting to the floor.
Mr. Flannery was already out in the hallway, holding back Kevin, Red’s supposed attacker. Only, Kevin wasn’t strong enough to do something like that. Was he? Alex ran out to see if Red was okay.
“Calm down, Kevin,” Mr. Flannery said.
“He gave me a wedgie,” Kevin yelled, reaching out to get his hands on Red.
Red rose to his feet, slowly. “I was nowhere near him!”
That, at least, was the truth, Alex was sure. But Red could cause trouble from fifty feet away.
Mr. Flannery swiped his hand over his hair again, frowning, his gaze volleying between Red and Kevin. He turned to Alex, an imploring look on his face, but Alex just shrugged, not willing to admit that Kevin had nothing to do with it. Kevin made another attempt at strangling Red, but Mr. Flannery jerked him back. “Okay, Kevin. You come with me.”
“But—”
“You need to calm down.”
And as Mr. Flannery escorted Kevin down the hallway, Kevin glared back and bared his teeth. You’re gonna get it, Red. You just wait...
A minute later, Red and Alex stood there, alone.
“What were you thinking?” Alex asked. “You’re just lucky Mr. Flannery is recessive, or that there were no guards nearby. What if you had gotten caught?”
“Eh, it’s okay. You can thank me later.”
Alex squinted, unsure of herself. “Thank...you?”
“Oh, you’re welcome.” Red smiled. The white of his eyes and teeth seemed to glow, mischievously, against his black skin. “Besides, I had to do something to distract old Flann-man, didn’t I? I know how important seeing Jessica is to you.”
“You mean you did that for me?”
Red nodded.
Unsure of what to say, Alex glanced around the hallway. “Have you seen Greg?”
Red shook his head. “He might be in the Birdcage. I’m headed there now, if you want to join me. It’s supposed to be nice outside.” He grinned. “Thought I’d work on my tan.”
“You go ahead,” she said. “If you see him, tell him I need to talk.”
Red nodded, started to turn, then stopped himself. “You can always talk to me, you know. If you want.”
Alex smiled. “I know. And thanks for helping me out with Mr. Flannery.”
They parted and she headed quickly toward the girl’s hallway, hoping to meet Greg in her room to talk and help get her mind off the one hour and fifty-six minute wait to see Jess. As she rounded a corner, she collided into one of the guards. Her books scattered across the hallway floor. Like a daddy-long-legs crawling up the back of her neck, his mind penetrated hers. Smiling faintly, she blocked her thoughts, reciting the Declaration of Independence in her head.
When in the course of human events...it becomes necessary for one people...
He helped gather up her books, his gaze following her as she started back down the hall. She half-walked, half-ran the rest of the way to her room. Once inside, she fell against the door to catch her breath.
Greg wasn’t there.
She slid her three textbooks into the three empty slots on the rickety bookcase beside her bed, her fingers lingering on the spines of the adjacent books. Anne of Green Gables. Little House on the Prairie. Little Women. Little Men.
Alex tilted one out and opened its pages, inhaling the musty scent. She loved these books—and not just the crinkly feel of the paper, the way the edges had yellowed through the years, or the stories that told of families living in a world without walls—but also the mystery behind the books. Their history. Where they came from. And the secrets hidden within. They weren’t just any old books—they were left specifically for her.
Flipping to the front revealed a single piece of paper, brittle and faded. She peeled open the two halves and smoothed the crease, studying every inch of the scribbled handwriting, the letterhead, and the slightly uneven way it had been folded, trying to grasp anything new she could from the person who wrote it. Her mother.
To my dear Alexandria,
Though time may separate us, it will not diminish the love I have for you. We will see each other again one day. I promise.
All my love,
Mom
She savored the words, reading them twice, then refolded the note and shoved the book back into its place, trading it for another. Plopping onto her bed, she opened the book to chapter one, enjoying the quiet moment free from anyone else’s thoughts but her own.
* * *
Greg checked his watch. Foster was late. The Hub, weight room, three o’clock. That’s all the note had said. Greg settled back onto the weight bench, gripped his fingers around the bar, and lifted.
Ten reps later, the pole clanked back onto the rack. Greg sat up, sweat trickling down his neck. The door opened and Foster appeared. Greg stifled a laugh. Foster’s skimpy legs barely filled the leg holes in his gym shorts. His black hair and thick eyebrows only added to his awkward proportions.
Greg remained silent as Foster positioned himself under the weight bar. He grunted, failing to budge the pole.
Greg removed a weight from each end. “Is everything ready?”
Foster looked irritated. “You tell me.”
“How am I supposed to know?”
“Uh...Alex?”
Greg shook his head. “I haven’t told her anything yet. I know her, Foster. There’s no way she’s gonna go along with this without some serious convincing. Not after what happened last year. Lately, she can barely keep her thoughts to herself. She doesn’t need the pressure...not until everything’s ready.”
“Yeah, well. Everything is ready.” Foster shoved the weights off the rack, his arms shaking.
“I just want to make sure we won’t get caught.”
“We...won’t...get...caught,” he said as he lowered then raised the bar.
“Yeah, well, that’s what you said last year.”
Foster sat up and gave a sly grin. “How cute. You’re trying to protect her.”
Greg didn’t say anything. Foster stood and offered the bench to Greg.
“I understand, you know,” Foster said. “You’ve been friends a long time. But this isn’t gonna happen without her.”
“Listen, if I can’t convince her, then I can get you out by myself. I’m ready.”
“Really?” Foster’s gaze narrowed. Unexpectedly, he grabbed the weights and yanked them from the rack.
Greg wasn’t ready. The bar plummeted to his chest, pinning his arms to his side, the pole crushing into his windpipe. Greg couldn’t breathe. He grappled for the bar, trying to free his neck, but it was too heavy. He silently pleaded to Foster for help, but Foster just stood there, arms folded, watching but doing nothing. Greg’s lungs ached for breath.
A fog settled over everything and the room began to darken. Foster’s lips moved as though saying something, but there was no sound. Just as everything began to fade to black, Foster heaved the weight upward enough for Greg to roll his body out from under it, collapsing to the floor.
Greg gasped, clutching at his searing throat. He tried to speak, but nothing came out.
“You say you’re ready, but you’re not,” Foster said. “You can’t even save yourself. Find a way to convince Alex to help, or else I will.”
Sitting up, Greg rested his back against the bench, wiping away the tears leaking down his face.
The door opened, and in walked Mr. S, one of the night guards, dressed to work out. He eyed the two of them. “You two should be going. You only have a couple minutes.”
Foster grabbed Greg’s towel and wiped some imaginary perspiration from his forehead. “We’re just finishing up.”
Mr. S seemed to sense something, his gaze following Greg. Did he know? Could he tell what was going on?
“Are you okay?” he asked, stopping Greg by the shoulder.
Never looking Mr. S in the face, Greg cleared his mind and nodded. Foster was right. He wasn’t ready.
To be continued...