The Reds at Thurmond had moved strangely; they lurched when others walked, jabbed when others waved. But I’d just assumed the awkward jerks were because of the restraints the PSFs kept them in.
But Mason...the kids in Nashville, they’d called him Twitch. Twitch, because of the way his whole body spasmed with its strange rhythm. I thought...I don’t know that I’d even really thought about why; I’d just assumed it had something to do with the way he was trained, the way the government had broken his mind trying to mold him into the perfect soldier.
All of them, all of the Reds—they all must have had some version of this physical tic. And if I was able to recognize it after only being around a few of them, then how could someone who had been there—to make suggestions for and contribute to and witness the training—miss the signs?
“Clancy...” I started to say.
“This is too good,” he said with a bark of laughter.
Cole stiffened, his face turning to stone. The fury burning his pale eyes softened, going out of focus. I knew that look.
I threw my mind at Clancy’s, but it was like driving into a wall. I was thrown back, with a sting that zipped across my skull and turned into a pounding ache. We didn’t have time for me to break the connection that way, before something would happen—before he’d turn Cole into his little action figure. I drew my elbow up and hit him right where Instructor Johnson had taught me—in the temple. Clancy’s eyes rolled back and he slumped forward, knocking his forehead against the dashboard.
The wheels spun as I floored the gas pedal, trying to outrun the signal fire Cole had created. The smoke would be hard to miss for any helicopters or patrols. I didn’t need to think about the consequences of Clancy knowing. I just needed to get us the hell out of here.
My temples were still pounding and my heart was still sputtering at an unnatural speed when I looked over and saw Cole rub his forehead. “What the f**k...” The words grew louder each time he repeated them, until he was roaring them. “What the f**k?”
I smelled smoke—saw how badly he shook. “Cole, listen to me—you have to calm down, okay? Calm down, it’s okay—”
He fumbled with the leather case in his lap, ripping out a vial of clear liquid and a syringe. I tried to look between him and the road as he filled it, but missed my opportunity to stop him before he slammed the needle down into the back of Clancy’s neck.
“Cole!”
“That’ll keep the little shit under until the urge to beat his ass into next Tuesday passes,” he growled. “Shit. That was nothing like the way you did it at HQ—shit!” He tossed the syringe and bottle back into the pouch and let them slide down the dashboard.
His hand was steady now, but his anxiety charged the air; it made me feel like I was sitting next to someone who was debating whether or not to light a fuse.
He turned back toward the window, watching the buildings around us blur—but I could see his face in the reflection there, and it said everything he couldn’t. He hadn’t been in control when the Humvee caught fire—not even remotely.
“What did he show you?”
“Myself.”
“What do you mean?”
Cole leaned his forehead against the glass and shut his eyes. “It was a Red camp. Somewhere. What they did to the poor kids to train them. I saw how everyone must see us, if that makes any sense...it was just...it felt like I was being smothered with smoke. There was nothing in their expressions, but, for a second, I was scared shitless. It was like I was really there. They had me and I was next.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, unable to keep the tightness out of my voice. “I realized what was happening a second too late. I should have...”
“It’s my fault he figured it out,” Cole said sharply. “Don’t take that blame, Gem, it’s not yours to shoulder. You told me he was involved with Project Jamboree. I should have checked myself instead of acting like a monster, it’s just—dammit!” He slammed his fist against the door. “I wasn’t thinking at all. I just—it won. For a minute, it won.”
His words wrapped around my heart like a fist. I knew that feeling. It didn’t matter how much power you possessed, how useful your abilities were. They had a will of their own. If you weren’t constantly on top of them, they found ways to crawl out from under you.
“Those kids, those Greens and Blues especially, it all comes to them so easily, doesn’t it?” Cole said quietly. “Easier to control, easier to hide. It doesn’t f**k up their lives the way it does for us. We have to be focused, otherwise we slip. And we can’t slip.”
Liam—and Chubs, and Vida, and all of them—hadn’t been able to understand how much work went into controlling what I could do, so it didn’t control me. Loosening my grip on the leash even for a second could mean hurting someone. Hurting myself.
“It feels like I’m always at the edge of it, and I can’t...I can’t step in, not without feeling so damn scared I’m going to ruin everything. I want to stop ruining every good thing that comes my way. I couldn’t control it for a really long time—”
“And you think I can? Jesus. Half the time I feel it boiling me alive under my skin. It simmers and simmers and simmers until I finally release the pressure. It was like that even when I was a kid.” Cole let out a faint, humorless laugh. “It wasn’t...it wasn’t like a voice or anything, not one that whispered to me. It was just this urge, I guess. It was like I was always standing too close to a fire and needed to just stick my hand in once, to see how hot it really was. I couldn’t sleep at night. I thought for sure it was because my dad was actually the devil. Really, truly, the Prince of Darkness himself.”
“Harry?” I asked, confused.
“No, bio dad. Harry’s—”
“Right, forgot,” I said.
“Lee talks about him a lot, then?” He didn’t wait for me to confirm before continuing. “Yeah, our real dad...that man...dumb as a bag of hammers, mean as a snake. Not a good combination. I still fantasize about looking him up, breaking into the old house, and setting his whole world on fire.”
“Liam only brought him up once,” I said, trying not to pry no matter how much I wanted to. This was the one part of his life Liam wasn’t willing to share, and as horrible as it was, it only made me want to pick at the scab more. “When he lost his temper.”
“Good, hopefully that means he doesn’t remember the half of it. The guy was—he was a monster. He was the devil himself when he got his temper up. Guess one of us was bound to be a chip off the old block. I used to wonder, you know, if the abilities we have are somehow dependent on something we already have inside us. I thought, this fire—this is his anger. This is my dad’s rage.”
I knew it wouldn’t do anything, or at least reassurance had never done much when it was delivered to me, but I had to say it. I had to tell him. “You’re not a monster.”
“Don’t monsters breathe fire? Don’t they burn down kingdoms and countries?” Cole sent me a wry smile. “You call yourself that, too, don’t you? No matter how many times others tell you it’s not true, you’ve seen the proof. You can’t trust yourself.”
I settled back against my seat, wondering, for the very first time, if he wasn’t just as desperate as the rest of us for a cure.
“This isn’t about the camps for you...is it?” I asked. “It’s about the cure.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Got it on the first try. Feel free to think I’m an ass**le.”
“Why? Because you don’t want to suffer like this?” I asked sharply. “Because you want to be normal?”
“What’s ‘normal’?” Cole asked. “Pretty sure none of us remember what that feels like.”
“Fine,” I pressed, “then because you want a life where you’re free from all of this bullshit. I want the cure more than I want my next breath. I never used to. I never let myself think of the future, and now it’s like a compulsion. I want that freedom so badly, and it seems like the more I strain to try and reach it, the further away it gets.”