The 6th Power (19 page)

All the saliva in my mouth decided to take the day off as my brain realized how much trouble I was in, but warring with the terror was an anger that made me want to grab Chet by the throat and squeeze. I’m not sure which emotion won out on my face, but Chet chuckled again.

“I sent Mom and Dad down to the cafeteria for some dinner. I told them to take their time, that I’d look after you.” He leaned in close. “And I will, shrimp. Believe it.”

An image flashed in my mind through the remnants of our mental link, not a memory, but an imagining:
Chet telling Mom that he was going to take me for a walk, rolling me in my wheelchair, out the door, down the specially constructed ramp, down the sidewalk, down to some quiet, hidden place. Chet looming over me. Tears streaming down my face…

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the image away. Yes, that was my future. Alone, with nothing and no one to keep Chet from hurting me.

I felt him shift and my eyes flew open. He had been reaching for my shoulder again, but stopped when he saw that I was still awake.

“Of course,” Chet continued, “it doesn’t have to be that way. If you behave, you won’t get punished.” He smiled. “Much. If you disobey me again, though…”

Images flashed through my mind of the things he would do to me. The machine parked next to my bed started beeping faster again.

“Now,” he continued, “first things first. I want you to tell me how you’ve been able to do all that stuff this week. Flying around and shooting bubbles and, oh yes, making me puke. It must have something to do with that pill you swallowed, so why don’t you tell me where you got it from. Now.”

I swallowed hard, still tasting smoke from the day before. No way could I tell Chet about Mr. Magellan and where the pills had came from. I mean, I wasn’t worried about keeping the old man’s secret, particularly if he was going back to Fallon, but if I did tell Chet the truth, it was highly unlikely that he would believe me, and then the pain would start up again. Of course, I was already in quite a bit of pain. The drugs must have worn off. But Chet was good at thinking of new ways to torture me. He’d been doing it all of my life. For the fun of it. Because I was weak.

Chet wanted the truth. It was time to give him some.

I opened the connection with his mind and started projecting again. It was a new slideshow called, “Chet’s Greatest Hits.”

I’m six months old, down for a nap. My brothers sneak into my room while Mom is in the shower. They attach a clothespin to my ear. I scream in pain and terror and keep crying even after the clamp is removed. Mom finally comes, worried, exasperated, but it’s too late. The boys are gone.

I’m three years old and my parents won’t believe me when I insist that I didn’t shatter their precious crystal vase on the kitchen floor.

I’m six and I go to bed happy because I’ve finally told on them and they got in trouble. Then I wake up and find the pacifier dangling from the ceiling at the end of a noose. I didn’t even hear them come in. I can’t fall back to sleep because I know that, even though I got them in trouble, they won’t stop. There’s nowhere I can go for help.

I’m eight and Billy has moved in two doors down and he likes action figures, too. We play together in the field and, for the first time in my life, I have a friend. Then I watch as the twins take one of Billy’s shoes, smear it in dog poo, hold Billy down, and press the shoe against his nose. Billy runs away. Chet yells at him, tells him never to come back. Billy doesn’t come back.

I walk to school and I talk to no one and I get to school and I talk to no one and I go home and I talk to no one.

I live day after day with the fear that I will draw attention to myself and Chet will pounce on me and rope burn noogie wedgie swirly shrimp and even though I’ve done nothing to him and I make no noise, he finds me every single day.

I projected each of these memories and so many more directly into Chet’s mind. Normally, he probably would have been delighted to relive his work, but he was experiencing these things from my point of view, feeling what I had felt. Chet’s eyes went wide, not understanding what was happening to him. He was scared, and a tear traced a path down his cheek.

I thought about Hannah and Mr. Magellan, and any sympathy I might have had for my brother dried up.

“You know,” he wheezed, gripping my arm. “You know what I did.”

Whoops. I needed to be careful about what I sent over to him. Had to focus my thoughts, but it wasn’t easy, crummy as I felt. Chet wiped his eyes and smiled.

“That’s good. I’m glad you know. I don’t know how you’re doing this, how you’re getting into my mind, but it’s pretty weak.” Chet let go of my arm and covered his face. “Oh, boo hoo! Shrimpy’s had such a rough life!” When he lowered his hands, he was laughing. “Could be worse. You could be your girlfriend. You shoulda seen the way she bounced off the pavement when…”

I couldn’t scream, so I settled for roaring my rage directly into by brother’s mind. He flinched, his smile falling. I yelled again, pouring out my hate for him, and he actually staggered back. Then Chet let out a growl of his own and reached for me again. I let him. I welcomed it.

When he squeezed my shoulder, I took the pain of it, the pain of all of my injuries, and sent it right back at him.

I think he knew that it was coming. The white walls went up in his mind. He’d had years of experience in putting up those barriers, but at that moment I had a perfect knowledge of the greatest telepaths that had ever existed on a comic book page. It wasn’t even a contest.

Chet fell to his knees with a grunt, reaching out for the railing on my bed.

What’s worse, Chet? The burn on my back?

Chet let out a low moan.

The smoke inhalation?

Chet’s breathing got raspy, shuddery, as he struggled to suck in air.

Yeah, that’s no fun. But you know what the worst part is? It’s the nothing from the waist down. It’s like my legs don’t even exist.

There was a smacking noise as Chet fell to the floor. His whimper was like a song.

Of course, I’ve still got a little of the pain killers running through my system. None for you, though, huh?

“Please…”

Remember all of the times I said, “Please?” All the times I begged you to stop? Never worked, though, did it? I know you think that it was all for my own good, that you were making me strong. Let me return the favor. ‘Course, I don’t think I have quite enough pain to do the job. So let’s look around for some more.

I reached out with my mind. In a hospital, there was no shortage of people that weren’t feeling good. On the floor above, there was a place called Oncology. The suffering up there was so bad that I almost passed out, but I managed to shove most of it onto Chet.

I moved along, down to the maternity ward. There was a whole different kind of pain down there, but too much happiness mixed in. I wasn’t interested in happiness. Where else could I go?

Wow. Hey, Chuckles? Did you know that this hospital has a burn unit? I mean, I got toasted yesterday, but there are some people in here, people who got caught in the fire that you caused, in case you forgot, and man, they do not feel well at all! And you can feel it now, too, can’t you?

“Please… I’m sorry… make it stop…”

You’re really blubbering, you know? That is so pathetic. Come on! You’re a big man! You’re tough! You can beat up kids half your size! You must be able to take the hurt. Let’s go!

‘…nate…’

Huh?

‘…nate…’

Who’s…?

‘…what’re you doing’…’

Hannah?

‘…stop it…’

What? Hannah? Stop what?

‘…not you…’

Where are you? Hannah? Where are you?

But the voice was gone. I cast my mind out again, but I couldn’t hear it anymore. Had that been Hannah? Chet had said she was just a few rooms down, but when I looked there, I couldn’t feel anything. If it had been Hannah, what did she want me to stop?

On the floor beside me, Chet was coughing and gasping. I’d forgotten him for a moment. Man, he was so weak and pathetic.

Just like you.

That voice didn’t belong to Hannah. It sounded like me, but it wasn’t making sense.

You were the weak and pathetic one, and Chet hated you for it. Now you’re becoming exactly like him.

Well, that wasn’t true. Chet deserved what he was getting, after everything he’d done.

You are torturing him
, I told myself.
Does he deserve that? Is that what a hero does with his powers?

I blinked. I swallowed hard. The anger drained out of me, leaving a hollow space behind. I withdrew from my brother’s mind, taking the pain with me.

The hollowness filled with revulsion as I thought about what I’d just done. That was bad. I’d gone too far. How could I do that? I mean, I was furious with him, but… Maybe some of Chet’s hate got projected into me? Maybe I really was just doing what Chet would have done? Maybe. Maybe not. To be honest, I knew that I’d been pretty angry for a pretty long time. This was the first time I’d ever really let it all out. I wondered how far I would have gone to hurt Chet, to pay him back for everything, and I shuddered at the possibilities.

There was a snuffling sound below me. Chet was trying to get up. What would he do when he did? Had I scared him off, or did I just give him an excuse to hate me even more? I could open up the link again, scare him, tell him that if he didn’t leave me alone, he’d get more of the same or worse.

Threats. Just what Chet would do.

When I linked with my brother again, I expected fury and maybe some embarrassment. But his walls were back up, and this time, I didn’t batter my way through. Instead, I tried to project a sense of resolve.

I’m done, Chet. I went too far, and for that, I’m sorry. Just because you’ve hurt me all these years, just because you hurt Hannah, that was no excuse. I’m sorry.

Nothing.

Like I said, I’m done. I’m tired of being scared and I’m not going to do it anymore. You can beat me into jelly now, but I’m not going to lie down anymore. It doesn’t matter whether I have powers or not, I’m not going to lie down anymore. Do you understand? I’m done.

As I thought this, I knew that it was true, and it was a weight falling off of my aching shoulders. I hoped that Chet would believe me, that he’d feel it through our link, but I couldn’t tell for sure.

Chet stood up. His face was covered in shadow, but I knew that he was staring at me. I had time to hope that it was over, that there’d finally be some peace between us, but then Chet spoke and that hope was crushed.

“It’s doesn’t matter how long it takes,” he whispered. “Days, months, years. I’ll wait. There won’t be any more pranks or picking on you. I’ll just wait until the moment is right. Then I’m going to kill you. I’ll make it look like an accident and I’ll cry at your funeral for everyone to see. But inside, I’ll be laughing the whole time, remembering this moment. It’s going to happen. So go ahead and live your life, Nate. You tell yourself that I’ll get over this, that I’ll come to my senses, but it’s not true. I… am going… to kill you.”

I thought that my resolve would persuade him, but his resolve hit me like a hammer. He absolutely meant it, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to change his mind. The old familiar helplessness settled on me. Now, instead of worrying about Chet giving me a wedgie, I had to worry about him poisoning me tomorrow or cutting the brakes on my car years from now. Nothing had changed after all. The rule of Chet was going to continue.

But hadn’t I been breaking those rules all week? All except for one. All except for the first rule.

I opened my mind again and went looking for my neighbors. The hospital was on the northern edge of Coralberry, so I sent my thoughts out like a wave over my town. Each time I encountered someone else’s mind, I linked with them and moved on to the next. It didn’t take long, but it wasn’t easy. It felt like my brain was going to split open with the effort, and several times it told me that this was impossible, but I knew that Charles Xavier could do this, so I could do it, too. And I was right.

Chet, being part of it all, felt the connections that I was making. He took a step towards me and said, “What are you doing?”

I pulled in the memories. Chet starting the fire at Mr. Magellan’s shop. Chet sneaking up behind Hannah, shoving her into the path of an oncoming car. I took these memories and, when I was ready, sent them out, a little email message, directly into the minds of every man, woman and child in the town of Coralberry, Connecticut.

“What are you doing?” Chet roared, reaching for me.

I managed to pull down the oxygen mask, gave my brother a small, sad smile, and whispered, “I’m telling on you.”

His hands were on my throat in an instant. The mask fell back on my face, but the air had nowhere to go. I didn’t even bother to try to push him away. There wouldn’t have been any point. It felt like something was collapsing in my throat. My lungs burned and the edges of my vision started getting fuzzy. I thought about taking this pain and pushing it back at Chet, but instead, I took the experience, my final moments looking up at my brother, his hands around my neck, fury and insanity on his face, and I sent it out to everyone. One last message to make sure that Chet wouldn’t have the opportunity to cry at my funeral.

I thought about Hannah and wished that I could have said goodbye to her.

Then Dad was there, bursting into the room, wrapping his arms around Chet and pulling him away, throwing him against the wall.

Thanks, Dad. Better late than never.

I closed my eyes.

Chapter 25

I
floated away from my body and the people rushing into my room and the yelling and the crying and all of it. I floated, and I thought about just keeping on floating. How far could I go? What would happen when the effects of the last pill wore off? Would I just keep floating away, back to the clouds, away from my family, away from all of the anger and the sadness?