Nightrise (35 page)

Barriers had been erected for crowd control, and by now people were lining the sidewalks, five or six rows deep. The local police were patrolling the edge of the street, occasionally barking out orders through their bullhorns — even though there was no need for it and nobody was listening. The atmosphere was lighthearted. It was obvious that everyone in Auburn supported John Trelawny, and if there were any protestors, they had been wise enough to stay away.

At midday exactly the parade began.

First up was the local high school marching band, the trumpets and trombones glinting brilliantly, the music blasting out. Among them was a tiny boy with a huge drum and a huge boy with a triangle. Two baton twirlers led the way and they were followed by a drill team — a dozen girls in sparkling silver, going through a series of tightly rehearsed steps. Someone threw a switch and a rap song burst out, fighting with the music from the band. But it didn't matter. The jumble of noise and color was what it was all about.

Then came the vehicles: open-top Cadillacs and sports cars. The president of the Chamber of Commerce, waving and looking pleased with himself. Miss Auburn and two other beauty queens with their sequins and sashes. A single fire truck with half a dozen firefighters (they got the biggest cheer from the crowd). War veterans, some of them in wheelchairs. Then dozens more children walking behind. Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, Cub Scouts. And flag bearers all dressed identically in silver and blue

— spinning flags over their heads and around their shoulders, perfectly in step.

As the procession made its way down the hill, two latecomers slipped through the seated dignitaries on the bleachers. One was a middle-aged woman with short, gray hair, a thin neck, and glasses that were slightly too big for her face. The other was a teenaged boy, rather strangely dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, open at the collar. The clothes didn't look right on him, as if someone had chosen them for him against his wishes. The boy was very pale. His eyes were empty. He had no expression on his face at all.

The woman muttered her apologies as the two of them took their places in their reserved seats. Susan Mortlake and Scott Tyler had arrived. Now they sat and waited for the man they had come to kill.

***

"We're not going to make it," Jamie said.

"This car won't go any faster," Alicia muttered. "I'm doing the best I can…"

But it was already twelve fifteen and although they had seen signs for Auburn along Highway 80, the town refused to come into sight. There were three of them in the car. Jamie was next to Alicia. Daniel was sitting in the back, leaning over them both.

Jamie hadn't been able to explain how he had worked it out but he knew, with cold certainty, that he was right. He had seen photographs of Charles Baker when he was in the Nightrise offices in Los Angeles and Senator Trelawny had explained how the corporation was bankrolling his rival's campaign. Perhaps this was why they had wanted Scott and Jamie in the first place. Scott could order Trelawny to throw himself under a car. He could tell him to stop breathing and the senator would suffocate then and there.

The two boys had always tried to keep their powers hidden. They had learned, from bitter experience, what they were capable of. If Scott had been turned into a weapon, he would be unstoppable, Scott. That was the other thought racing through Jamie's mind. Of course he wanted to save the senator's life. But if they got to Auburn in time, he would see his brother again, and that mattered to him more.

"We're here!" Alicia spoke the words and a moment later veered off the highway, taking an exit that sloped up to abridge and over to the other side. As they turned, Jamie saw the statue of Claude Chana crouching underneath him. Was this really the same figure that had haunted him, repeatedly, in his dreams? There could be no doubt of it. The statue might look harmless now. It wasn't a giant or a monster. But somehow it had been sent to bring him a warning. Jamie glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Twenty-five past twelve! He wondered if he was already too late.

They reached the other side of the bridge. Now Jamie saw some of the crowd spilling over the sidewalks and heard the music of the marching band. There was a policeman ahead of them, signaling them to move forward. But that was the wrong way. The road would lead them past the courthouse and up to the new town. Alicia needed to turn right — but that way had been blocked off. From this position, there was no sight of the bleachers, the post office, the platform where Trelawny would speak. But one thing was certain: There was nowhere to park, no way they could drive into the crowd.

The policeman was waving at them, more angrily now.

"Mom…?" Daniel muttered from the backseat.

"Hold on," Alicia said.

She spun the wheel to the right and slammed her foot down on the accelerator. The tires screamed. The car shot forward and down the hill toward the crowd.

***

John Trelawny was in the back of a vintage 1960s Cadillac. The mayor of Auburn was next to him. As usual, there was a Secret Service man driving. Warren Cornfield was in the front passenger seat, his eyes completely hidden behind a pair of solid black, wraparound sunglasses. There were two more Secret Service men walking with the car, one on each side. They had followed Trelawny all the way down the street, and the strange thing was that, despite the heat, they had barely broken into a sweat.

Trelawny could see his wife sitting in the bleachers next to another woman whom he had met earlier that morning — she was married to the mayor. His two sons were sitting there too, and he knew that they wouldn't be enjoying this. Both of them felt shy about being out in public. His car had almost completed its circuit around the bleachers and any minute now it would stop and he and the mayor would get out.

The speeches would begin. It seemed so strange to be here. Trelawny remembered playing in these streets as a child. And now here he was, fifty years old, and all these people had turned out on account of him. He wished his parents had been alive to see this moment. He also hoped the speeches wouldn't go on too long.

The car slowed down and stopped. Warren Cornfield was the first out, his hand resting on the car door, his head swiveling to take in the crowds.

About twenty-five feet away, in the middle of the bleachers, Susan Mortlake leaned over and rested her hand on Scott's arm.

"All right, my dear," she whispered. "It's time. Do it now."

***

There was a filling station at the bottom of the hill and it was the one thing in the town that hadn't closed. Alicia drove off the ramp and into the driveway, skidding to a halt beside the pumps. She and Jamie left the car. Daniel scrambled out after them.

"Hey!" The garage attendant had come out of his office. 'You can't leave that here!"

But they were already on their way, abandoning the car, pushing their way through the crowds. Alicia knew that they were in danger. The policeman at the bridge must have seen what they had done, and he would have put out a radio alert. There was a presidential candidate in the area and anyone behaving strangely would have to be brought down quickly. In other words, shoot first — ask questions later. She wished now that she had left Daniel behind.

"How are we going to find him?" Jamie shouted.

He couldn't absorb it all: the people in the thousands, the band still playing, the welcoming banners, the sunlight, the flags flying red, white, and blue. He felt he was being stifled. The wound in his shoulder was throbbing badly. For a moment, he lost sight of Alicia.

"Watch where you're going!" He had barged into a family. The father was a fat man, wearing a Homer Simpson T-shirt. He was scowling at him.

Alicia was a little way behind him, clinging tightly on to Daniel. "Use your power!" she called to him.

'You can find Scott. You don't have to look for him."

Jamie understood. He didn't need to look. He could think. If Scott was anywhere near, surely he would be able to sense him. He turned his head…

…and saw his brother.

Scott! He was here!

At first, Jamie could barely recognize him. Scott was sitting so still. And he was pale, as if the life had been sucked out of him. His hair had been cut short in a style that didn't suit him and he was too smartly dressed in a black jacket, black pants, and a shirt that was a brilliant white. It was Scott but it wasn't him.

Jamie had never seen him like this before and he was suddenly afraid.

He noticed the woman sitting next to him and recognized her immediately, even though he had only ever seen her once…and then very briefly. She was part of Nightrise. She had come out of the Los Angeles office when he was there. Her eyes, behind the oversize glasses, were fixed on Scott. She was like a mother who was overly proud of her son but —-Jamie could see it in her face — this was a son who was about to do something horrible.

"Jamie!" Alicia had called out a warning. The policeman who had seen them drive down the ramp was searching for them. He was in front of the filling station — and would have spotted them if it hadn't been for the crush of people between them. There were three more policemen with him.

"Ladies and gentlemen. It is my very great honor to welcome a fine politician and a fine man back to his hometown on this —- his big day…!"

The mayor was speaking. His voice was being amplified by speakers positioned all the way up the street.

Jamie saw him, standing on a platform in front of a bank of microphones. Senator Trelawny was next to him.

The crowd burst into applause.

Scott was staring at something, deep in concentration. Jamie couldn't run over to him. He would have to push his way through four lines of people, climb over the barrier, and cross the road. He would never even get close. There was only one thing he could do.

"Scott!"

He projected his thoughts over the crowd, directly into his brother's head.

And reeled back, stunned.

It was as if he had run into a brick wall. He actually felt it, a physical blow. His head snapped back. He tasted blood.

"Jamie? What are you doing?" Alicia had managed to reach him. Daniel was with her. But Jamie couldn't explain it to her. Not now.

"Fifty years old today — and before he's fifty-one, he'll be the next president of the United States." The mayor grinned and put an arm around Senator Trelawny. The crowd applauded again.

"Scott! It's me!"

Jamie tried again. Once again, he was rocked backward. His brother had built a sort of force field around himself. It had never happened before. Scott wasn't letting him in.

"Mom…!" Daniel pointed. The policemen had seen them.

What was

Scott doing? His eyes seemed to be fixed on the senator. No. It was the big, fair-haired man next to him.

The security chief. What was his name?

Warren Cornfield removed his sunglasses. Jamie saw him drop them on the ground as if he no longer cared about them. Then he took out his gun.

Jamie understood exactly what was happening. He could see it in the eyes of the gray-haired woman, her expectant smile. This was her doing. It was all happening exactly as she had planned.

A presidential candidate may feel safe, but he is always surrounded by men with guns — and one of those men had just been turned against him. Scott's powers must have grown stronger than ever. He was giving orders telepathically, without opening his mouth. Jamie could see it happening now.

He was ordering Warren Cornfield to assassinate his boss.

And standing next to him, Susan Mortlake felt the power flow and almost wanted to laugh out loud.

How ironic it was that it should be one of the Five who would be instrumental in creating the new world…and one that would have President Charles Baker in the driver's seat. It was perfect. The blond-haired man would kill Trelawny. There would be thousands of witnesses. Nothing would connect him with Nightrise. Later on, they would assume he had gone mad. And she and the boy would slip quietly away. It was almost too easy. And this was just the beginning…

Jamie was sweating. There was nothing he could do. He couldn't break through the crowd. He couldn't connect with Scott. But now he could see the gun in Warren Cornfield's hand. The security man was staring into space, unable to stop himself. Nobody else had seen him. Everyone was watching Trelawny and the mayor.

"Ma'am — I want you to come with us…" The policemen had reached them, the crowd parting to let them through. The officer who had seen them on the bridge was leading them. He was short and plump with brown-tinted glasses and a moustache. Alicia turned to argue with him.

Warren Cornfield aimed his gun at Trelawny.

Jamie was still fighting, trying to reach Scott. But the wall was solid. There was no way through.

It was over.

No.

There was another way…

Jamie turned away from his brother and focused all his mental energy on Cornfield. He sent his thoughts across the street, through all the noise and the confusion, the cheering and the applause, and immediately it was as if he had broken into a private room and Scott was there with him, inside the security man's head. Jamie heard him giving the orders that were forcing Cornfield to commit murder. At the same moment, he felt the gun in his hand, his finger tightening on the trigger, and knew that it was already too late, that he couldn't stop the man from firing.

The Secret Service men closest to the platform saw the gun.

Somebody screamed. The policeman had taken hold of Alicia but now he turned to see what had happened.

He couldn't stop the man from shooting. So Jamie did the only thing he could do. He knew he was about to make the most terrible decision of his life, but he could see no other option.

He gave the order.

"Not Trelawny. The woman!"

Warren Cornfield fired.

But at the very last moment, he had swiveled around and shot directly into the bleachers. His bullet hit Susan Mortlake in the center of her forehead. She was thrown backward. And at once everything changed as the crowd went crazy, screaming and struggling to get away, and the entire parade exploded into chaos.