Edgewood Series: Books 1 - 3 (82 page)

“Man, she’s annoying,” Carly said loudly, and no one in our group contradicted her.

We passed a large metal waste can on the way to the security area. Carly spit out a wad of gum as she went by, and Jameson, walking right behind her, tossed in the stone Mrs. Whitehouse had just given him.

“Jameson!” Mallory said, coming to complete halt. “I can’t believe you threw that out.”

“Why, did you want it?”

“Well, no, I have my own.” Mallory pulled hers out of her pocket and ran a thumb over the letters. “Love. What did yours say again?”

“Hope.” He sighed. “So pointless. I don’t waste my time
hoping
things work out. I’m a man of action. I either do what I set out to do or I don’t. And I plan on doing it. Besides,” he added, “I don’t believe in new age garbage and stones that have been blessed. Blessed by whom, I ask? And what kind of blessing? No, I’m a little too savvy to just accept what I’ve been told. Especially by an unreliable source like Mrs. Whitehouse.”

Mallory turned to me. “He makes a good point.” She lobbed her stone into the trash and then turned to me. “What do you think, Russ? Want to make it three for three?”

With a shrug I pulled the stone out of my pocket and deposited it in the waste can. Normally I’d feel bad about throwing out a gift, but I wasn’t a fan of Mrs. Whitehouse and it wasn’t a very thoughtful gift. Who needed a stone that said
Peace
when we were leaving for a trip to guard the president’s daughter? I needed to be on guard and ready in case of attack. Peace was nice in theory, but it wouldn’t help me with what I needed to do.

“I’m not getting rid of the necklace though,” Mallory said. “That’s worth keeping.”

Russ

We were picked up at the airport in D.C. by a black stretch limo. Normally a limo stocked with chips and nuts and a full bar would be a reason to indulge, but the seriousness of our trip held everyone back. Mallory helped herself to a diet soda but no one else had anything. The windows were tinted but we could still see out. I watched the city stretch out before us and admired the clean streets and impressive buildings. I’d never been to D.C. before but it had a familiar look, probably from watching the news.

The driver had told us we’d be there in about forty-five minutes. I didn’t ask, but I assumed “there” would be a hotel or government office, so it was a surprise when we entered a parking structure, drove around and around all the way to the fourth floor, and then stopped in the middle of a row of parked cars. When the driver shut off the engine, got out, and opened the trunk, we realized we’d arrived.

“I guess it’s time to get a move on,” Rosie said, gesturing us to the door. Dr. Anton got out first, thanked the driver and made sure everyone had their stuff. Then he said, “I need to collect everyone’s electronics.” We all stared, not connecting the dots. “I mean it,” he said. “I need your cell phones, iPods, Kindles. Anything you have that’s electronic in nature.”

The women rifled through their purses, while the guys pulled their phones out of their pockets. The limo driver held out a cloth bag and one by one, we reached in and added to the pile. We’d been told we couldn’t make any calls while we were gone (and our parents knew not to expect them), but I didn’t know they’d be taking our phones.

“Are we getting them back?” Mallory asked.

“Eventually,” Dr. Anton said all too cheerfully.

After the driver finished gathering up our things, and got back in the limo, Dr. Anton gestured us to follow him across the parking structure.

“Where are we going?” Carly asked Rosie, who only shrugged.

“Just follow the doctor,” she said. “He’s the one in charge on this trip.”

The wheels on my rolling luggage squeaked until we came to a stop in front of a large steel door. Dr. Anton got out some keys, expertly unlocked it, and ushered us through. The next thing I knew we were headed down a short hallway to an elevator.

“Where exactly are we?” Mallory asked as the elevator descended. We dropped lower and lower, exchanging worried glances all the way. We seemed to be in an elevator heading toward the center of the earth.

“You shall see,” Dr. Anton said, a twinkle in his eye.

When the elevator lurched to a halt, I expected to come out somewhere damp and dark. Maybe a concrete bunker or cave or the lower level of the same parking structure. As it turned out, I couldn’t have been more wrong. When we stepped out we were in a space that reminded me of the Mall of America crossed with Grand Central Station. The ceilings were high and arched, the space was light and spacious, and the architecture was modern American with the addition of Roman columns flanking each side.

“Come on,” Dr. Anton said. “If we hurry we can catch the next subway.”

“Holy crap there’s a subway down here?” Carly said.

Mallory stood stock still, just staring. With her chin raised and eyes wide, she had the amazed look of a toddler seeing snow for the first time. People in business attire crisscrossed all around us. A security guard stood watch, his back against a column, while customers waited in line at a coffee stand that also sold baked goods. Two young men manning an information kiosk looked bored. We could have been in almost any public place except for two things that really stood out: no one was talking on a phone and there were no kids around. We were, in fact, the youngest people I’d seen so far.

“What is this place?” I asked, catching up to Dr. Anton. He was walking quickly, making the rest of us scramble to keep up.

“PGDC,” he said. “There’s a whole city beneath the city. And this is it. Everyone you see here is with the Praetorian Guard.”

“No one else knows about this?” I looked around.

“No.”

How could something this big be secret? “But like the FBI must know about this, or the CIA?”

“Only if they’re members of the Guard.”

I saw the subway terminal ahead. A large monitor off to one side listed times and destinations. “But doesn’t anyone question people coming and going and all the electricity being used and everything else?” I asked.

“No,” Dr. Anton said, “no one questions it.” I must have had a worried look on my face because he added, “Don’t worry about it, Russ. There are systems put into place to ensure nothing is disclosed to the public. If anyone gets wind of it and tries to go public with the information, they are discredited or they wind up changing their mind. Entrances to PGDC are periodically changed and they’re always monitored.” Dr. Anton paused to look up at the subway schedule display. “Looks like our timing is going to be perfect.”

Rosie came up behind us and said, “That’s good because I am ready to take a load off. Traveling always wears me out.”

“Have you been to this place before?” Carly asked.

Rosie shook her head. “I’ve been hearing about it for years, but this is my first time.”

When we got to the subway platform, Dr. Anton finally filled us in. “We’ll go to the hotel first and drop off your things. Then dinner and then the briefing room.”

“You don’t want Russ to do his thing right away?” Mallory asked patting my arm.

Dr. Anton said, “We follow the schedule we’re given.” He cast a wary glance at two men who came up alongside us. They were talking to each other and had no interest in us as far as I could tell, but he was still being careful. I remembered Dr. Wentworth saying that only a few people knew that the president was in a coma. Even among other Praetorian Guard members there were still secrets.

The subway ride was comfortable and fast, and before we knew it we’d arrived at the hotel. Since everything was indoors, the space from the subway to the hotel felt like we were walking in a mall or airport. Once inside the lobby, Dr. Anton checked us in and got key cards for our rooms. Just like in Peru, I was rooming with Jameson, but with Nadia gone, Mallory was now doubling up with Carly. As the leaders of our group, Dr. Anton and Rosie had their own rooms.

I was hoping the rooms would be special in some way, full of Praetorian Guard spy gadgetry or photos of PG history throughout the last century, or at least luxurious beyond belief, but our room had the standard hotel layout. Our headboards were bolted to the walls as was the hair dryer in the bathroom. We each had our own dresser. Between the two dressers hung a flat screen TV, and over by the window overlooking a courtyard, sat a desk and chair. I threw my suitcase on the bed closest to the window and said, “I call this one.”

Jameson grinned. “This is mine.” He pointed to his suitcase and used telekinesis to lift it off the floor and onto the bed. “Are you sure that’s where you want your suitcase to be?” He raised one eyebrow and turned his attention to my bed. A second later my suitcase hovered over the bed and started levitating around the room. “Oh look, I’m Russ’s suitcase and I’m confused about where to go. Doh. Doh. Doh. Maybe I should go see if I can heal someone in the bathroom.” I watched as my suitcase turned into the open doorway to the bathroom. “I think your suitcase wants to take a shower, Russ. Better go check on it before it gets all wet.”

I hated Jameson when he got like this. I didn’t think he could turn the water on from the next room, but I wasn’t taking any chances. “You’re an idiot,” I said before going to retrieve my suitcase. When I came out he was still grinning, hands on his hips, like he’d done something clever. I said, “Don’t push me, Jameson. I could send a blast of electricity and fry that smile right off your face.”

“Yes, but you won’t,” he said. “Because then you won’t be the golden boy of this whole trip. The savior of the nation.”

“That’s right,” I said. “And don’t forget it.” My words were more confident than my feelings. Golden boy? Savior of the nation? Who nominated me for that kind of responsibility? Until recently I had trouble remembering to put the lid down on the toilet. Who in their right mind expected a sixteen-year-old guy to fix the problems of a whole country? And how could it be that I was so valuable someone wanted me dead? The whole thing was messed up.

By the time the others knocked on the door and collected us for dinner, I was done with Jameson. The guy had a lot of good qualities, but every time I’d decided he was okay, he made some jerk-move and undid every bit of good will. I couldn’t decide if he was immature, insecure, or just had a flawed personality. Nadia, a much better person than me, said Jameson had a terrible home life and I should cut him a break. Easy for her to say. He wasn’t threatening to give her suitcase a shower.

Dinner was fine dining and included some of the best food I’ve ever had. We never actually ordered; they just brought food. And more food. Soup and salads and rolls. Trays of crab cakes, medallion-sized slices of beef tenderloin, shrimp on skewers. Fish stew in a kettle. Pasta primavera. I kept eating thinking each course was the entrée only to find out that there was still more to come. By the time they brought the dessert tray we were all stuffed. I had a harrowing thought during all of this, remembering that condemned prisoners always got one last outstanding meal. And that led to me thinking about another last meal, the Last Supper from the Bible, the one Jesus shared with his apostles before his crucifixion. And another example: the tradition of fattening up animals before they went to slaughter. I looked around the table at our group of six, all of them satiated and raving about how great the meal had been and all I could think was: this is the beginning of the end and we are totally screwed.

I hoped I was wrong.

Russ

After dinner we were off to a briefing, which was, we were told, was one short subway ride away. I was glad Dr. Anton knew the way, because the rest of us were clueless. I was struck by how perfect everything was. This underground city, PGDC, was like the idealized version of the real world. There was no graffiti here or smog or rude employees. It was the Disney World of the Praetorian Guard. I wondered if this was where the top PG members would hole up if the Associates succeeded in their plan and everything topside went to hell. The rest of us would be fending for ourselves while they waited safely underground.

Finally after we’d walked a few blocks, we arrived at our destination. The briefing room was bigger than your average room, to say the least, closer in size to an auditorium and shaped like a boomerang. Like half of an IMAX theater. The long curved wall ahead of us was a screen with nature images that changed periodically. “A giant screen saver,” Carly observed, taking a seat next to me. “I almost feel like I’m in the Grand Canyon right now.”

“I’d rather be at a fake Grand Canyon than be back at home right now,” Mallory said. She and Jameson had taken seats on the other side of the aisle. “Hey Russ, how do you feel about missing the beginning of junior year?”

The next day was the first day of the school year. I always hated the first day—the getting used to a new schedule, memorizing a new locker combination, getting up early after three months of sleeping in—but still I regretted not being there. If I could have been two of me, I would have played it both ways, living as Russ the average teenage guy and also seeing how it went for Russ, the guy with superpowers. But I didn’t have that option and if something had to go I would choose to let go of the conventional life. I shrugged and said, “I’m okay with it. I’m sure we’ll get caught up when we get back.”

We’d arrived at the briefing area right on time, but still they made us wait. Dr. Anton went to confer with some unseen person in charge, leaving the rest of us behind. Carly assumed they were unorganized, but I knew the real reason for the delay because I sensed the electricity all around us. Cameras and microphones were planted everywhere in the room. I wasn’t sure why, but they were deliberately leaving us unattended and paying attention to everything we said and did. Carly snapped her gum, while Jameson made Mallory’s ponytail rise off her shoulders. In response, Mallory shrieked and grabbed at her hair. Whoever was watching saw all of this. “Stop it, Jameson,” Mallory said, slapping him in a flirtatious way. Knowing we were being watched, I made a point to come off as the mature one in the group. When Rosie, sitting to my left, leaned over and asked if I was nervous, I said, “No, not nervous. Ready.”