The Farm (22 page)

“McKenna wanted to take a shower. Uncle Rodney was on well water and the house has a backup gas generator. Joe thinks he might be able to get it started. He said it runs on propane, so we couldn’t use the gas in the van anyway.”

The combination lock clicked open and Carter slid the shank free of the latch and slipped it into his pocket. As he stood to lift the door, Lily hung back, looking fragile.

As much as he hated to admit it, Sebastian was right, damn it. It was time to tell her the truth. Joe and McKenna were occupied. Sebastian wouldn’t interrupt them. As for Mel . . . hell, she seemed to just know things. It was possible that she’d already figured out the truth. He couldn’t think of any nursery rhymes that conveyed
You have the power of mind control
, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been humming one.

Of course, whatever they found on the other side of this door would certainly affect their conversation in the next hour.

There was another wooden door beneath the steel one, and beneath that a short flight of stairs into the underground storm cellar. Another steel door. This time with Priscilla Presley’s birthday as the combo.

Joe had gotten the generator on and it was humming loudly from the other side of the house. When Carter reached for the light switch on the wall, an overhead fluorescent flicked on.

Based on Lily’s crazy-redneck description, he expected the cellar to be stocked with all kinds of survivalist gear. Dehydrated food, gas tanks, bottled water, rifles, that kind of thing. And it was. It was just also decorated like a shrine to Elvis. Uncle Rodney had mounted a classic velvet Elvis painting on the wall opposite the door. Beneath it sat a turntable and a collection of LPs surrounded by unlit candles.

Other Elvis paraphernalia was scattered throughout the twenty-by-twenty-foot room—an Elvis wig, a pair of blue suede shoes, a TV and VCR and what had to be every movie Elvis was ever in.

There was a bed against one wall, well-stocked shelving on the other. A ratty recliner in front of the TV.

For a long moment Carter just stood there, blinking at the bizarreness of it all. He called out twice, but there was no answer. No lingering smell of death to ward them off.

Lily walked past him, smiling. It was one of the first genuine smiles he’d seen from her since he’d found her again. There was only a hint of sadness to her expression. Or maybe it was nostalgia. Maybe she hadn’t held any hope that her uncle would be down here.

She gestured to the Elvis shrine. “Weird, huh?”

“This is the man who hunted wild boar with a bowie knife?”

“Yep.” She crossed straight back to the velvet Elvis. On a table beside the LPs was a framed photo. She picked it up and looked at it.

Curious, he followed her and looked over her shoulder. It showed two little girls, two women, and a man. This must be Uncle Rodney. The two women looked enough like Lily—but probably thirty and fifty years older—that he figured they were her mother and grandmother.

“This was taken at Grandma’s house, out in Nebraska. We were ten. We spent summers there after Dad left.”

Only then did he notice the lines of strain around their mother’s eyes. The protective way Uncle Rodney draped an arm over his sister’s shoulder. Mel looked off into the distance. Lily was leaning against her mother and clenching her uncle’s hand. She looked small and frail. Helpless and vulnerable in a way she didn’t anymore.

Lily reached to put the picture back, but she stopped and picked something up off the table. An envelope that had been waiting beneath the picture frame, five pieces of Dubble Bubble gum sitting beside it. On the front of the envelope were scrawled the letters
R & L &
M
.

Lily carefully slid the envelope open and pulled out a page of lined notebook paper. Carter let her read it in silence. A moment later, she handed it to him.

Dear Rachel, Lily, and Mel,

I wish you had followed my suggestion and come up to stay here when the first wave hit Texas. I know those damn fools in the government said it was best to stay in our homes, but when have they ever known their asses from a bunch of skunk holes?

I took the rig down to Texas last month, but could find no sign of you. A friend has suggested heading east and I suspect it’s about time for it. On the off chance you make it up this far, I’ve left supplies for you and the girls. As always, what’s mine is yours,

R

He handed the letter back to her. She gave a loud sniff and swiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She immediately went to where Mel was sitting cross-legged in the recliner and handed her the letter to read as well. Mel took the letter and laid it across her knee. She’d found an old Rubik’s Cube and toyed with it as she read. Her Slinky, her first love, sat on her other knee and whenever she got stuck on the Cube, she pulled on the Slinky a couple of times.

He turned around in time to see Lily carefully tucking the photo into one of the pockets of Mel’s backpack. Then she unzipped the main compartment and dug around until she found a hairbrush and a small, ragged-looking stuffed animal.

It was odd, this surge of protectiveness he felt for her in that moment. The unexpected affection he felt for the man in the picture. If he didn’t know better, he’d rationalize it away. Say it was normal to be fond of the relatives who had cared for Lily during a tough time in her life. He might even chalk it up to relief at having found a safe haven for the night. But he did know better.

This rush of affection he felt, it wasn’t his own. These sentiments were Lily’s. She broadcast her emotions so clearly, he felt every one of them. Because she was an
abductura
, she had the power to force her emotions on others. Because she didn’t know about her powers yet, she did it unintentionally whenever her feelings were running high, as they had yesterday and today. All her fear, her panic, her relief at getting off the Farm, and now her fondness for her uncle. Her pleasure at finding some sign he was okay and, yes, even the hope she’d claimed not to have. He’d felt that, too.

He was keenly tuned in to her emotions—as was Mel—but Joe and McKenna were susceptible, too. He suspected Sebastian was also, though the vampire would never admit it.

Sometimes he resented the things she made him feel. Not the feelings themselves, but her blithe ignorance. She had him tied in knots half the time and she didn’t even know it. But she didn’t do it on purpose. She no idea what she was.

And it was time he told her.

He squatted down beside her and placed his hand on hers. “Lily, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“What is it?” She looked up. He got hit again by that surge of protectiveness. That bone-deep knowledge that he’d do anything in the world to keep her safe. And in that moment, he was equally sure that this wasn’t going to be easy for her to hear. He didn’t want to place this burden on her shoulders. He couldn’t even think of what the hell to say.

He cursed under his breath and scrubbed a hand down his face. “I . .
 
.”

She leaned closer to him and put her hand on his arm and even though the cellar had a dank, musty smell to it, suddenly all he could smell was the fresh, fruity smell of her hair. But it wasn’t her touch or even her scent that kicked him in the gut. It was the look in her eyes.

And he was about to destroy that trust.

Because he wasn’t just a guy who had rescued her from a horrible situation. He was a guy trying to save the human race. And he needed her to do it. Even if it meant she hated him for it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Mel

This rabbit hole feels cozy and we’re not trapped even though Carter’s still acting like Bugs. Uncle Rodney understands about music even if he worships a dead god.

Uncle Rodney knows it’s not just about the sounds, but the rhythm and beat. The notes
and
the silence. How I hear it, anyway. What Carter is not saying, more than what he is. Or maybe he’s more deaf than I thought and even he doesn’t hear what’s not there. Doesn’t he know he’d catch more bunnies with Rachmaninoff?

Elvis gets it. The King isn’t in the velvet; he’s where the velvet is not. The after-burnout image. It takes both to make the picture. But there’s beauty in the inky velvet, too. Not just the nothing counts. Rubik knew it, too. If I make those colors sing, will Lily hear it?

I can try. I have all night to find the music. The pink gum helps.

The shark is gone—out tocking after Ticks. Finding food before it finds us. But part of me misses his watery silence. Who will pilot
us
, if we’re not pilot fish to his shark?

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Lily

Carter was doing that weird stuttery thing. I knew he was trying to tell me something, and he just could not seem to spit it out. My heart started thumping nervously. He dreaded it. Whatever he needed to say, he absolutely dreaded having to say it aloud. Which so could not be good.

“Oh, God,” I muttered, standing. “You’re not a vampire, too, are you?”

He gaped at me for a minute and then burst out laughing. He stood and then pushed his hair back out of his eyes. “No. God, no. Here’s the thing. It’s not an accident that I found you on the Farm. I was looking for you.”

“What?” I asked, figuring I’d heard him wrong. Or just misunderstood.

“You’re special, Lily. There’s something about you. Something I don’t think you even know.” He searched my face for an instant, then turned away. “I’m doing this all wrong.” He looked up and gestured to the velvet Elvis. “It’s like Elvis.”

“Huh?”

“Elvis!” Carter’s tone had
Eureka!
all over it.

“You lost me,” I admitted.

“Did you ever see Elvis perform?”

“No,” I said, stating the obvious. “’Cause he died, like, two decades before we were even born.”

“Not live. I mean like in a movie or on TV. Footage of him with all those screaming fans.”

“Sure, I guess.” I walked over to Mel and carefully showed her the brush to let her know what I was planning. She didn’t flinch away or scream. Which meant she
might
be okay with me brushing her hair. When she kept twisting the Rubik’s Cube, I laid the stuffed squirrel on Mel’s knee next to Uncle Rodney’s letter and picked up a section of hair.

Carter was going on and on like I was supposed to follow his conversation. “Girls and women, even some men—obviously your uncle Rodney—acting like crazy people. Over a singer. Yeah, he was good, but did he really deserve all that craziness?”

I didn’t know how we’d gotten on this topic, or why Carter suddenly seemed so excited about Elvis. I tried to joke. “Don’t let Uncle Rodney hear you talking that like. Especially not in front of the shrine.”

“He was the kind of guy people build shrines to. The vampires have a name for people like him.”

“Rich? Talented?” I ran the brush through just the bottom inch. When it came to Mel having her hair brushed, you had to do just as much as you could and be happy with the progress you’d made.

Carter laughed, but I couldn’t tell if it was in relief or at my lame joke. “No. The term they use is
abductura
.”

“Abductor?”

“No,
abductura
. Not one who steals. Literally, one who leads. There have been
abducturae
throughout history. King Arthur—the real guy—apparently, he was one. Martin Luther King. Martin Luther, for that matter. And Elvis.”

“That’s a lot of Kings. What are you talking about?” It felt like it was time to take a big step back from this crazy-ass conversation. I stopped brushing to turn and look at him.

“There are other, more recent examples. Adolf Hitler. The Beatles. Steve Jobs.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, certainly not when you’re settling into full-on history-teacher mode, but is there a point to today’s lesson?”

Carter’s cheeks reddened, like he was chagrined. “Yes, the point is, all these people—people who have this incredible charisma or power. It isn’t an accident. They’re not just lucky. Or talented. They’re not just politicians around at the right time and place; they have an actual gift. They can make people feel the emotion they’re feeling. It’s a power they have over others.”

“Like a superpower?” I asked dubiously, running the brush through a section of hair. Her hair—like mine—was thick and had just a hint of wave to it. She messed with hers more, so it always looked a little off, but it was still pretty.

“Exactly!”

“Cool. So Hitler was one of the X-Men? Great.”

Carter’s blush deepened. “I told you I was saying this all wrong. If you think about it, it’ll all make sense.”

This was so not the conversation I’d been expecting and my annoyance came through in my voice. “I don’t need to think about it to know that this is the stupidest, most ridiculous fantasy I’ve ever heard. People don’t have superpowers.”

“Why not?”

“Because . . . because it just doesn’t make any sense. If people—if anyone—had this power back in the Before, why didn’t everyone know about it? Wouldn’t it have been studied and reported on? Why weren’t there scientists analyzing these so-called powers?”

“Who says there weren’t?” Carter asked quietly.

My hand stilled on Mel’s hair and I noticed suddenly that she’d stopped working on the Rubik’s Cube. She was listening, too. “Were there?”

Doubt started to creep in.

“Not many, but some. The vampires have known about it for centuries. Apparently they tried to re-create the powers of the
abducturae
, but it doesn’t work.”

I frowned as I shifted from disbelief to confusion. “But how . . . Why don’t people know about this? I mean, I’m still not saying I believe you, but if this is a real thing and scientists have been studying it, then why wasn’t the news of it everywhere?”

“What purpose would that serve?” Carter asked. “What would happen if the entire population knew that there were a few special people who could control the emotions of everyone else?”

I thought about it for a second. When I spoke, dread dropped my voice to a low whisper. “There would be fear. Paranoia. No one would know who to trust. Every bad decision you made you would blame on someone else.”

“Exactly. So instead, the truth was kept hidden, usually even from the people who had the skills. Very few
abducturae
know the gift they bear.”

“If someone did know . . .” My voice trailed off.

Carter pressed the point. “If someone did know, they would have tremendous power at their fingertips.”

I studied his face then, dread starting to churn in my empty belly. “What kind of power? I mean, it’s just a localized thing, right? Like at an Elvis concert. Other people share the emotions of the
abductura
. That’s it.”

Carter jumped in to explain. “It’s more than that. Human emotion affects everything we do. Every decision we make. According to Sebastian, an untrained
abductura
will affect the people immediately near him or her. Someone who knows what they’re doing could affect the decision making of the entire country. Martin Luther King inspired an entire nation. Hilter convinced Germans to do unthinkable things. An
abductura
can heighten someone’s emotional experience and inspire him to greatness, or they can convince someone to act in a way that’s contrary to his personality. To his beliefs. To his very nature. Trained soldiers can be overwhelmed by panic. Police officers can be crippled by fear. Brave men and women can be convinced their fight is hopeless. Parents who would otherwise die to protect their young can be talked into leading their children to internment camps. And it can all be done with the subtle manipulation of emotion.”

I felt the blood rushing in my ears and I set down the brush. “What are you saying?” He didn’t answer but waited for me to fill in the blanks. “That that’s the reason the Ticks took over? Because some
abductura
made us surrender?”

“Did you never wonder how we got to this point so quickly?” Carter asked. “You start with half a dozen victims in an unpopulated area of New Mexico. Within six weeks, there are Tick outbreaks in every major city in the South, Southwest, and Midwest. Within three months, the government is mandating internment of all teenagers. Less than a month after that, the government falls completely. It took the Ticks less than six months to conquer the U.S. No nation in the history of the world has fallen that quickly. Do you really think a bunch of animals with brains the size of kiwis were responsible for that?”

“The Ticks were unbeatable. It was smarter for the government to try to placate the Ticks rather than kill them off completely. We had to try to contain . . .” I trailed off, realizing I was only parroting the propaganda that had played on the news.

“What do you think now?” Carter prodded. “Now that you’ve seen them in action? Do you still believe they are unbeatable?”

I frowned. “They were crazy fast. And obviously strong. But we made it out. If the six of us were able to get away, then trained soldiers should have been able to fight them off. . .
 
.”

This, I realized, was the answer to the question I’d asked in the van. The question neither he nor Sebastian had wanted to answer.

After a long moment, I kept talking. “So that vampire Roberto, you’re saying he’s one of these things? He’s an
abductura
? He just convinced humanity that these things couldn’t be killed?”

“No,” Carter said. “There are no vampire
abducturae
. That’s what I was saying earlier. As far we know there are several human traits that don’t survive the change. That’s one of them. We know it’s not Roberto.”

“So there’s a
human
who is working with Roberto?” All that blood that had been rushing around in my ears dropped into my belly, making me feel light-headed.

“Yes,” Carter said. “He’s extremely powerful.”

“I can’t believe a person would do that.”

I felt horror rising off me, like steam. A bone-deep revulsion rolled through me.

Carter was watching me closely and I could tell he half expected me to freak out. “So you believe me? About the
abducturae
?”

I blew out a sigh. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.” Then I paused, my mind clicking away. “But if you’re right, then it changes everything. We could destroy the Ticks without ever fighting another one. All we’d have to do is find this
abductura
. Take him out and the Ticks lose their advantage.”

Carter shook his head. “Impossible. There’d be no way to get close to the
abductura
. He’s probably the most closely guarded person in the country.”

“We could try,” I said.

Carter grinned. “We?”

Okay, so, yeah. I was starting to think of this as my battle, too, but I couldn’t let myself get distracted.

“Is it hopeless, then?” I asked.

“Not at all. The
abductura
working with Roberto isn’t the only one out there. All we need to do is convince another
abductura
to fight on our side.”

I frowned, picking up the brush again and returning to Mel’s hair. It soothed me and her. I heard the
click, click
of her turning the sides of the Rubik’s Cube punctuated by the occasional
sllluuunk
of her Slinky. “That’s what you’ve been doing at the Farms, isn’t it? You haven’t just been helping Greens escape.” I looked up and met his gaze. “You’ve been searching for an
abductura
.”

“Yes.” His breath seemed to catch and I got the feeling that he was waiting for me to figure something out. Suddenly I didn’t feel smart, but incredibly stupid.

And sad, too. Because once Carter dropped us off in Canada, he’d be back in the fight. Searching for his
abductura
. It was what he had to do. I knew that. But I realized that some tiny part of my brain had been hoping I could convince him to stay with us once we found safety. Now that I knew what he was really doing, I knew there was no way that would happen.

“I’m sorry you didn’t find what you were looking for at our Farm.”

“But I did.”

“What?” My hand stilled, the brush stuck in midstroke. For a long second I just stared at him blankly. Then I looked around, half expecting to see McKenna or Joe in the room.

He did chuckle then. “No. Not them. You. I came looking for you.”

I waited for Carter to deliver the punch line of the joke, but he didn’t say anything for a long time. He just stood there, waiting. Maybe waiting for me to speak. Maybe for the full impact of what he’d said to cut through the fog that seemed to envelop my brain.

I just looked at him. “You’re not serious, right?”

He placed his hand over mine. “Yeah, I am.” Finally, he asked, “How you doing there, Lil?”

I let out a snort of disbelief. “Oh, I’m great.” Suddenly the dank walls of the storm cellar seemed to close in on me. “You know, besides the fact that I’m trapped with a delusional wack job.”

Carter arched an eyebrow. “I seem delusional to you?”

“Hey, you’re the one who thinks Mel and I are the wonder twins. You tell me.”

My voice sounded less quippy than I meant it to and more like I genuinely wanted an answer. I shot Carter a look. I expected him to look away. He didn’t.

After a minute, I gave a strangled, nervous laugh and suddenly found that I couldn’t look at him. So I wandered off a step or two to stare at the shelves and shelves of supplies. And to think, once upon a time, I’d believed my uncle Rodney was crazy for being this prepared. Now it turned out he was the right amount of prepared, and I’d thrown in with people who were way crazier than he was. My laughter turned sour in my stomach. So I was thankful when Carter interrupted my thoughts.

“Something funny?” he asked.

“There aren’t a lot of benefits to having a sister who’s autistic and parents who are desperate for any cure that will help her, but one of them is that you learn to tell when people are lying to you. The bad liars, they can’t hold your gaze. But the charlatans, they’ll look you right in the eye while they sell you some crazy-ass ‘cure’ for five grand a treatment.”

I glanced back at Carter. He still met my gaze, not even flinching. “That means either you think you’re telling me the absolute truth or you’re a sociopathic liar.”

His gaze dropped for a moment and his lips curved into a wry smile. “Which do you think it is?”

“I can’t—” I broke off, shaking my head and staring mindlessly at the black flocking on the Elvis painting. “That person you described? That person who is charismatic and persuasive? That person who other people can’t help but follow? That’s not me. I don’t have any of those characteristics.”

“Maybe you do and you just don’t see them yet. Many
abducturae
are older than you when their talents develop. Still, you may not see it, but I do.”