Here Today, Gone Tomorrow Page 8

  "I'll bet bigger guys are always challenging you," Howard commented.

  "Oh sure, all the time," Martin said. "Everyone wants to fight the champ, right?"

  Amanda-Sarah started coughing loudly, and Tracey looked down at her plate. Emily was positive they were trying very hard to keep from laughing out loud, just like her.

  She had to wonder why Martin wasn't more nervous about having to demonstrate his gift to Clare and the men. Had he managed to convince himself that he was in control of his strength? That he could turn it on and off at will? In her opinion, he was going to have more problems

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  than the fake Sarah. He didn't even have Emily and Tracey helping him out.

  Control . . . Did these kidnappers have any idea how hard it was for the so-called gifted class to use their gifts effectively? Tracey was making progress, but she still had to use her memory, and sometimes her mood just wouldn't let her disappear. Jenna could be blocked by strong people who knew about her gift and had worked up enough power to protect their thoughts. Amanda had to feel pity before she could take over someone's body.

  Emily wasn't sure if Ken could call on a dead person or if he had to wait until someone contacted him. Martin had to be bullied and teased before his strength emerged. And Sarah refused to use her gift at all.

  As far as she could tell, Charles was the only one in the class who had complete control of his gift-- which made her wonder why he hadn't been brought here. It seemed to her that he had the best gift for robbing banks--he could probably make all the money fly out of the bank and into the criminals' hands. And he'd be just as willing to get involved

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  as Martin was--neither of them had any sense of loyalty.

  She was pondering this question when Clare spoke to her. "Emily? Are you having a vision?"

  "No," Emily replied. "I was just . . . you know, thinking."

  George looked interested. "But isn't that how you see the future? By just thinking about it?"

  Emily squirmed uncomfortably. "Sort of, I guess. But not really."

  "Then how does it happen?" Clare demanded.

  "I---I don't know."

  "Personally," Howard said, "I don't care how she does it, I just want to see her do it."

  "Yes," Clare said. "I told you all we wanted to see demonstrations of your gifts. Let's start now." The frosty eyes were on Emily. "With you."

  Emily swallowed what felt like a peach stone in her throat. "Now? Here?"

  "Yes. I want you to tell us the future of our project."

  Emily took a deep breath. She looked at Tracey, and then at Amanda-Sarah, and hoped they'd

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  remember what they hadn't had time to practice. It was mainly up to her, though, and for Amanda's sake, she had to pull it off. "No."

  Clare frowned. "What?"

  "No, I won't do it. I won't try to see the future, and you can't make me."

  Martin stared at her as if she were nuts. "Of course they can! They're in charge, dummy. Haven't you ever heard of torture?"

  For a moment, Emily thought the snack she'd just eaten was going to come right back up. Her eyes darted between pretty, glamorous Clare; Howard who looked like a teddy bear; and serious, bespectacled George, who reminded her of a math teacher. Looks could be very deceiving.

  Tracey piped up. "They don't have to torture Emily to get information, Martin. They can use Sarah to get it out of her."

  Clare's eyebrows shot up. "Is this true, Sarah? I know that you're capable of making people move. Can you make them think and speak, too?"

  For a moment, Sarah's face was blank, like she was

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  totally bewildered by the conversation. Emily and Tracey both looked at her, and her expression cleared.

  "Yeah, sure. I can make Emily do anything. You want to see her act like a duck?"

  "No, that won't be necessary. Just make her see the future of our project and tell us about it."

  "Okay," Amanda-Sarah said. Looking at Emily and speaking in a very low voice, she growled, "Listen very carefully. You will do as I say."

  If she hadn't been playing a role herself, Emily would have burst out laughing. Amanda sounded like an amateur magician in a school talent show. Somehow Emily managed to keep a straight face and stare right back at her.

  "We want to know what's going to happen when we rob the bank."

  Martin broke in. "That's banks, plural. Right? We're going to rob a lot of banks."

  "That's right, Martin," Clare said, and Emily could almost detect a hint of approval in those steely eyes. "But we'll be satisfied if we can just learn what's going to happen on the first mission."

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  Emily acted the way she would if she was truly trying to have a vision. She let her eyelids drop lightly to make her surroundings go hazy, and she tuned out all sounds.

  A few seconds later, she began to speak. "I see a big room. It's--it's a bank. The Northwest National Savings and Loan Association. There's a long counter, and a few people are standing in line waiting to see the people who work there. Behind the counter, there's a locked door that leads down a corridor and into a vault. Tracey . . . Tracey's invisible. She follows a banker through the door to the vault when he unlocks it."

  Clare spoke. "Tell us what Sarah is doing, Emily."

  "She's . . . she's doing something so people can't move. I think. It's hard to see her. She's blurry."

  "What does Martin do?"

  "He breaks down the door. Behind the door, there's a safe."

  "Do you know the combination of the safe, Emily?" Clare asked.

  "No, I can't see it. But the banker has gone into the vault to open the safe, so Tracey will see the

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  combination. There's a lot of money in the safe. You're waiting for Tracey, Sarah, and Martin outside in an SUV. You drive away."

  "So the robbery is a success," Clare said.

  "Yes," Emily replied.

  "Thank you, Emily." Clare permitted herself a frosty smile. "Well, we've now seen what Tracey, Sarah, and Emily can do. That just leaves Martin. But we're not going to ask Martin to demonstrate his gift right now. We've been told by a trusted eyewitness about the havoc Martin can create, and we don't want any broken dishes. We'll think of a way he can show us his talents later. Now, you're all free to do as you please this afternoon."

  "Can we leave?" Tracey asked.

  Clare gave her a chilly look. "No."

  Back in the living room, Martin returned to his video game. Amanda-Sarah and Tracey gathered with Emily.

  "I think we pulled that off pretty well," Tracey declared.

  "Oh, absolutely. We totally fooled them," Amanda-Sarah agreed.

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  "Not because of you," Tracey stated. "Where did you come up with that silly hypnosis voice?"

  "It wasn't silly!" Amanda protested.

  Tracey turned to Emily. "How did you keep from laughing?"

  Emily shrugged. "I don't know."

  "And that was a great story you gave them," Tracey added. "It sounded totally believable, like you were really seeing the future."

  Emily tried to smile. "Thanks."

  Amanda was still annoyed over Tracey's criticism of her performance. "I think I was very believable. I sounded just like Sarah."

  "How would you know what Sarah sounds like?" Tracey asked. "I'll bet you've never had a single conversation with her in your whole life."

  While the two of them bickered, Emily crept away. She took a book from the bookshelf without even looking at the title. Then she sat down, opened it, and stared at a page without reading a word. Maybe if she looked like she was engrossed in the book, the others wouldn't bother her. She couldn't

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  let them get too close--they might be able to see how upset she really was.

  There was a reason why she'd been able to make her story of the future sound so real. She hadn't made anything up--she wasn't that creative.

  It was a ve
ry precise and realistic vision--the clearest, most detailed vision she'd ever had. It didn't require any interpretation. It was a real vision of a very real crime. What she'd just told them was exactly what would happen.

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  CHAPTER TEN

  It was about three months ago," Jenna told Ken. She had to yell into his ear to be heard, since the crowd was still cheering that last unbelievable basket. "I was with these friends." She hesitated. Just about everyone knew about her reputation, but she didn't want Ken getting the wrong idea about her.

  "Well, they weren't exactly friends, just some people I was hanging out with because I had some problems at home, and--"

  "Yeah, okay, whatever," Ken said impatiently. "What about the house?"

  "We were looking for a place to sleep for the night," she confessed. "We'd been kicked out of the bus station ..." She paused again. Thinking about her past on the streets wasn't easy. "Anyway, we saw this abandoned house, and we tried to find a way in, but

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  it was all boarded up. I was kind of glad because the house looked so spooky to me. One of the guys, he had a can of paint, and he started spraying graffiti on the door. I don't know why. That was the house I saw in Carter's mind."

  "Do you remember where it is?"

  "I think so. I'll bet that's where Tracey and the rest of them are."

  "There's only one way to find out for sure," Ken said. He stood up. "Is it far? Can we get there by walking?"

  Jenna rose, too. "Shouldn't we go to the police and tell them?"

  "Tell them what? That you read Carter's mind and now you know where the missing kids are? Come on, Jenna. They're not going to buy that."

  He was right---Jenna knew that. There was also the fact that certain police officers might recognize her . . . and they would be even less likely to believe any story she might tell them.

  "But even if we find the house, what can we do?" she asked Ken. "Break in and rescue them? Whoever

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  kidnapped them must be there, too, watching them. Maybe with weapons. How can we fight them?"

  Ken thought for a minute. "We need Charles," he said finally. "Even if the kidnapper has a gun, Charles could get it out of his hand. Come on, let's get him."

  At that moment, a whistle blew and a huge roar went up from the fans. Jenna glanced at the scoreboard and saw that Meadowbrook had won by a landslide.

  They pushed through the excited crowd and made their way to the gym floor. Charles was still in the same place, applauding wildly and watching the team congratulate each other, slapping hands in the air and clapping each other on the back. Ken and Jenna hurried to his side.

  "We think we know where the missing kids are," Ken told him hurriedly. "You have to come with us."

  Charles stopped clapping. "Why?"

  "Because you can make things move!" Jenna said in exasperation. "You might have to make a gun drop out of someone's hand or make a door open."

  "I can't," Charles said. "Mike and the guys are going out for pizza and they invited me to come."

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  He smiled happily. "They think I bring them good luck."

  "Oh for crying out loud!" Ken exclaimed. "Charles, your classmates could be in big trouble! Don't you want to save them?"

  "I'd rather go out for pizza with the basketball team," Charles replied.

  "Too bad," Ken growled. He went behind Charles and grabbed the handles of his wheelchair. Charles pushed on the brake so the chair couldn't roll.

  One of the players saw them. "Hey, what do you think you're doing? Leave Charles alone!" He started to come toward them, and several teammates joined him. They didn't look happy.

  "Ken, we can't force him to come with us," Jenna said hurriedly. "And I think we'd better get out of here or we won't be going anywhere either."

  Once outside the gym, Ken turned to Jenna. "Which way?"

  "You know the industrial park behind the bus station? It's just past that."

  Across the street, in front of the mall, they had to wait almost half an hour for a bus, which let them

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  off in front of the bus station twenty minutes later. It took them another fifteen minutes to make their way through the industrial park. But the house was right where Jenna remembered it was.

  Without speaking, she and Ken went to the front of the place and looked for an entrance. She recognized the graffiti on the red door. Without much optimism, she gave it a push, but it didn't budge. They wandered around and looked for another way to get in. But the house was so boarded up, they couldn't even make out if there was a light on inside. They couldn't hear anything either.

  Ken pressed his face up against a crack in a board. Seconds later he let out a cry of pain.

  "What?" Jenna cried out in alarm.

  "It's that woman in my head again!" Ken moaned.

  Jenna could hear her. Talk to my son! Give him a message from me! It's important!

  "Get out, get out!" Ken yelled.

  "Shh," Jenna hissed. "I'll go and check out the other side of the house."

  She didn't expect to find anything there that might give her a clue as to whether anyone was

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  inside, but she needed to get away from Ken and what was going on in his head. She had an idea.

  She thought about the time she'd been able to hear Emily's call for help. If Emily was in this house, Jenna was closer to her than she'd been that time. She pressed the side of her head against the house and concentrated.

  She heard nothing--not through her ears, not through her head. She knew Emily was capable of blocking Jenna's mind-reading skills, but surely at a time like this she'd be trying to make contact.

  She thought she heard something--a dull, low murmur. It could have been the wind in the nearby trees, she supposed. Or maybe her own heartbeat. But somehow, at that moment, she knew for certain that Emily was in this house. The others, too, probably, and whoever was holding them captive. But it was Emily she sensed. Emily was close by, maybe even leaning against this very same wall on the other side. If only she could understand what Emily was thinking. She was a mind reader, so why couldn't she read the mind behind this wall?

  Because the mind on the other side of the wall

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  wasn't sending a message. It was showing her a mood. Jenna could feel it. It was like a thick, dark cloud coming down over her, enveloping her in despair. Sadness. Hopelessness. That was what Emily was feeling at that minute.

  Ken joined her. "I got rid of that woman. Have you seen anything?"

  "Emily's in big trouble," Jenna told him. "Which means they all are. We have to get in there, Ken."

  Ken nodded grimly. "Which means we have to get Charles."

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  Chapter EleveN

  HEY, CHECK THIS OUT! Emily, come over here!"

  Emily looked up from the book she wasn't reading. Amanda-Sarah beckoned to her. Listlessly, she rose and went to the sofa where Amanda-Sarah and Tracey were sitting. "What?"

  Amanda-Sarah's eyes were bright. "Watch this." She looked at Martin, who was in front of the screen by the Xbox console, holding the controller. His thumbs moved rapidly, hitting the buttons that controlled the action of the characters on the screen. Suddenly, he let out a yelp.

  "Hey! That's not what you're supposed to do!"

  Emily shrugged. "Martin's talking to the TV. So what?"

  "No, you don't get it," Tracey said excitedly.

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  "Sarah--Amanda--whoever she is, she made Martin hit the wrong button! She's getting Sarah's gift!"

  "So far, I can only make his thumbs move," Amanda-Sarah said. "But I could get stronger, I think."

  "That's nice," Emily murmured.

  "Nice? Emily, don't you see what this means? If she keeps practicing, maybe she can end this crazy business!"

  Emily shook her head. "I don't think so."

  "You don't think I'm going to get any better?" Amanda-Sarah asked.

  "
I didn't say that. You'll probably get better at using Sarah's gift, but it's not going to stop the robberies."

  "Why not?" Tracey asked.

  "Because ... I just don't think it can."

  Amanda-Sarah looked annoyed. "You know, you're being a real downer, Emily."

  Tracey agreed. "Yeah, what's wrong with you? You act like you've given up."

  Emily raised her head. What was the point of

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  hiding the truth anymore? They might as well know why she was so depressed.

  "That story I told at lunch--it wasn't a made-up story. It was my real vision. We're going to be robbing banks."

  Neither Tracey nor Amanda-Sarah responded immediately. They both stared at her like she'd lost her mind.

  "I don't know why, but for some reason, we're all going to help them. When I had the vision, I didn't understand how this could happen because Amanda can't do what Sarah can do. But now that Amanda's getting Sarah's gift . . . well, it all makes sense."

  They still didn't look convinced, so Emily went over the vision again.

  "Remember what I said? Tracey would disappear and follow a banker into the vault, where she'd see the combination to the safe. Martin would break down the door leading to the vault. Amanda would stop the security guards from interfering. And Clare would drive everyone away in an SUV."

  "I remember what you said," Tracey told her. "But

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  there was something you left out. Where are you when all this is going on?"

  "I'm not absolutely sure," Emily said. "I wasn't in my own vision. Maybe I'm being held hostage. That could explain why the rest of you go along with the robbery--because they'll hurt me if you don't."

  Amanda-Sarah looked skeptical. "But you're just guessing, aren't you? You didn't see yourself as a hostage in your vision."

  "That's right," Tracey said. "Maybe you're not in the vision because you escaped."

  Emily drew in her breath as a tiny bell rang in the back of her memory. "I forgot about that!" She sat down between the two girls. "I had another vision just before lunch. It was a vision of Martin throwing this sofa across the room with so much force that it broke the door down."

  "And we escape through it?" Tracey asked excitedly.

  Emily tried to remember. "That wasn't part of the vision. But somebody should be able to get out the door, shouldn't they?"