Date: Mon, 4 Jul 2016 11:45:45 -0700 From: Garth Eads Subject: A Secondary Chance - Part 3 Disclaimer: This is a work of science fiction/fantasy. None of the characters are real or based on real people. The author holds no responsibility for any similarities readers find to real life. All characters engaged in sexual acts are of legal age. Please do not copy this story or ideas without the author's permission. Once I arrive close to my destination, I have Rusty drop me off on the side of the road. "It's at least another five miles." He says as he tries to keep me in the car, hoping that I might invite him inside and `Thank' him properly. I need to get out of the car and clear me head. The news brought up too many memories and I need to sort them out, focus myself before I go waltzing into a heavily populated areas and do gods knows what to the general population. I smile at my driver and with a twist of his mind tell him to meet his friends and very carefully implant the idea of staying one more night in the hotel and `enjoy' each other's company. I am such a bastard sometimes. As Rusty and his jeep make a u-turn and head back the way we came, I try not to think about the last time I watched a car leave like that because I am too old to be thinking about things like that and nothing changes the past, any of the Strangers with temporal abilities will go on and on about that. I turn around and head towards my destination, in the heart of wealthiest and heaviest protected areas in the East Coast, Rittenhouse Square. As I walk, I reach up and feel the pearls around my neck again and despite my best efforts, a smile forms and I remember. (Six years ago) "...ley...ke up." I'm trying to sleep and someone keeps shaking me. Sleep is hard for me so when I am actually able to get some, I hate being disturbed. I swat at whatever is shaking me but apparently miss as I am being shaken again. I growl or at least I think I do, it's kinda hard to tell. "Wesley, wake up." The voice is right next to my ear and I almost scream and fall. My eyes hurt and feel heavy as I try to glare at whoever just woke me up. "Why?" I scowl. The person sitting next to me has a large muffin that seems too warm to be store bought. She grins at me with that annoyingly too cheerful grin of hers and waits for me to sit up before handing me the muffin. As I bite into the muffin, the girl gets up, allowing me to get off the thing that was suppose to be a couch. I scowl at her again as she continues to grin. "Why did you wake me up Quaternary?" The girl waits a moment, as if thinking then answers in a careful, thoughtful tone. "Because we have a problem." I take another bite of muffin. She must have microwaved it before giving it to me. "What kind of problem?" She moves her head back and forth in the kinds do when they can't sit still. She grin is still present but I can tell its strained. I stand up and notice that we are no longer moving. "How long have we been stopped?" "Ten minutes." Another voice answers and another young girl comes in from the back. It's obvious that they are sisters or related. She is identical to the other one though there are some difference. The new one's hair is long and straight and in pig tails while the one has short curly hair that took me forever to get right. The muffin girl tended to wear more pinks and yellows while new girl liked blues and purples. Aside from that, they could be the same person. It's doesn't help that their Japanese ancestry gives them the same physical characteristics. Only the eyes are different. Muffin girl has green eyes and new girl has blue. I stretch and belch and try to bring myself back to reality. "Why did we stop?" I ask. Muffin girl shrugs while new girl rolls her eyes. "They're discussing the plan." She says, her voice filled with too much irritation and sarcasm for one so young. The girls just barely turned 11 a month ago and one of them is already jaded. Lovely, I'm rubbing off on them. "Again? What's wrong this time?" Both girls look at me and answer simultaneously. "Michelle." I groan. I get out of the RV that I managed to `borrow' from some couple back in Florida a week ago. It's a really nice one, with a full bedroom, kitchen and bathroom. It's by far one of the nicest places I've ever lived. It's not quite morning but there is a hint of sunlight coming from a ways off, turning the sky just the barest shade of pink. Looking around, I breath in the air and notice how much chillier it's gotten but that to be expected. Having spent the last four months in the deep south to come all the way up north is a bit of a shock to the system. I sense more than feel a burst of heat coming from somewhere up ahead of me. I groan again and start making my way in that direction, finishing off my muffin. It's doesn't take me long to find the source of the heat, it's still dark enough that the bonfire on the side of the road is fairly obvious. I don't even have to guess at what's happening. It's the third times in five days this has happened. It's warmer over here and I get closer to wake myself up some more. The fire muffle the voices but not by much. "....Stupid!" "...Not!" "Yes, it is!" "Not it Ain't! It's a good idea." "How?! What part of it even seems like a good idea to you?" "All of it!" The bonfire is growing hotter and brighter and I notice a stiffness to the air. Not the feeling of humidity but more of a physical pressure. I also notice several large rocks floating flying about overhead. There are scorch marks on the ground as well. I make my way over to the center of the tiny storm and stop about a yard or so away. Raising my hands, I wiggle my fingers the same way children do when they pretend to cast a spell. The effect is almost immediate. "Son of a bitch!" The bonfire went out and the rocks fall not too gently back to earth. I smile at the two people in front of me. "Good morning Primary, Tertiary. What's wrong this time?" My voice is so full of sugar and sweetness that I want to puke. The person on my left takes a deep breath and lets it out. "Good Morning Secondary, would you please stop with the brain freeze, it's too early for one." "Yeah, Bro, what the hell. Warn a dude." The other says. The smile slips and I purse my lips. "It's also too early for you two to be arguing like five-year-olds, again." I counter. They both glare at each other. I wiggle my fingers again. They both cringe. "The Fuck dude?" "I could ask you the same thing. Quaternary tells me we've stopped because of Michelle, is this true?" One glares at the other who snarls but doesn't return the look. "It is." I turn to the person my left again. "Primary, would you care to explain so I can go back to sleep." Primary is a tall Mediterranean woman in her mid to late thirties who carries her weight well. Her amber colored hair is all natural with not a gray to be seen but in her eyes which a quite prominent when she glares at you as she was with the younger man across from her. "You tell him Tertiary. Tell him what that strumpet suggested." Tertiary growls. He's caucasian like me but there's where the similarities end. Where I am of average height and thin, he's shorter and all muscle. His blond hair comes from a bottle and a box. He's from somewhere in redneck country by a beach. At 25, you'd think he could be a bit more level headed but he has a devil in him that just won't quite. His near red eyes turn to me and I wait for his answer. "So Bro, look here. Michelle says she wants to go over the plan and we do and some more if you know what I mean." I do and I don't want to. "Anyways, she says that she has an idea. Instead of simply waiting about like a bunch of pussies, we should act offensively." He pauses. I look at Primary. "Act?" Primary rolls her eyes but Tertiary continues. "Michelle thinks that If we act offensively, then we could get a bigger haul." He grins as if he just had an epiphany. I doubt it since he can't even spell epiphany might as well recognize one. I stare at him some more then turn back to Primary. "What?" I ask. "The strumpet wants us to go fishing." My eyes go wide and I shake my head then turn to Tertiary. "Is she stupid?" "Yes!" and "No!" "Dude, how can you say that. It's a brilliant plan." I blink, then close my eyes. Without asking permission, I push into Tertiary's head and teleslap him, hard. He cringes. "Bro! The Hell?" The air around him is getting hot again and sparks start to materialize. "What does she want us to go fishing with, exactly?" I ask, ignoring the potential firestorm. Primary answers. "With us." We all get back into the RV with Primary and Tertiary not talking to each other. Primary takes her place in the driver's seat and blue eye quaternary takes shotgun. "Alright, is everyone sitting down and buckled up to the best of their ability?" Primary asks. There are sounds of acknowledgment and Primary starts up the RV and we're off again. Our destination is Chicago and from the GPS, we're about 150 miles out of the city. I manage to sneak into the very back and get the bed before anyone else and try to sleep some. It's hard with Tertiary mumbling about how Michelle's plan is a good one and why they should just listen to him but I can ignore it and do. I tend not to dream or I simply don't remember my own dreams but I do remember other people's dreams. My powers tend to let loose while I'm asleep which can be a bit of a bother if I accidently slip into Tertiary's wet dreams or Quaternary's visions. It also allows me to participate in group discussions without being conscious. Primary is talking to Quaternary about tonight's plan and if everything is set up. "Mostly. We have the invitation and work orders but there has been a slight change in the original plan." "What kind of slight change?" There is typing then, "It appears that the jewels might not be on display after all." There's some internal swearing from Primary and external swearing from Tertiary which goes ignored. "Secondary?" "Hmmm?" "Is there a possibility you can find out why for us?" Primary asks as she tries to change the plan to fit the new changes in the schedule. I make some sort of sound which she takes as `I'll try'. "Good, good. While you do that, let's find a place to eat breakfast." Quaternary cheers and Tertiary mumbles about how he's fine with what we have in the fridge which is nothing but meat and potatoes. The couple we borrowed the RV from weren't big on cooking apparently. While the others are discussing where we should eat, I let my mind wander to my task. This part is easy because now that we're getting closer, I don't have to stretch so far. When we had come up with the plan in Florida, I practically had to comatose myself to reach that far. My telepathy is strong but reaching a mind across the country is hard. Since I know who exactly I'm looking for in the maelstrom of minds and personalities in the state, finding my target takes less time than it does to fall asleep. Mrs. Ima Pratt is one of the wealthiest women in the world and every year she holds a grandiose party for her husband, who incidentally never comes to them. The parties change location based on where the Pratts are staying. This year, there at their house in the heart of the Golden Coast in Chicago. Anyone of great importance attends, whether they be celebrities, the elite and wealthy, politicians or more importantly, superheroes. The most popular superheroes are always invited in some vain hope that the American people will support them if they are friends with heroes. Why? I don't know and I really don't care. I'm not a superhero so it doesn't concern me. It doesn't take me long to find Mrs. Pratt and easily slip into her head. I sometimes find it strange how easy that is becoming. Three years ago, I couldn't enter someone's mind unless I made eye contact with them. Now, It's a piece of cake. It's also not terribly difficult to sort through the woman's mind to find what I need. There's nothing of importance in here so I simply search for party plans and find my answer. It's not good. "Ah Fuck!" Mrs. Pratt flinches and looks around confused but I'm already gone. Back in y own head, I get up from the bed and move to the driver's seat. "We have a problem." Primary doesn't look at me but nods her head for me to continue. "I have good news and bad news." "Good first." "The Jewels are still going to be out." Primary nods. "And the bad?" "She's increased security." "Right, that's how we're sneaking Tertiary in." "Not that kind of security. The Pratt's have hired freelance work." "Mercenaries?" Quaternary asks from her seat. "Nope." I pop my p. "A League." "Ah FUCK!" "Now let's not get carried away." Primary says in her mom voice. "Were you able to find out which one?" I shook my head. "Must be a new one or a small one." Primary turns to green eye Quaternary, playing with her hair in the back. "Can you find anything?" She shrugs. "I can try but I won't promise anything. If Secondary can't find it, I don't know how much more I can do." "Try please. This might change everything." Quaternary nods and puts her head down as if going to sleep. Blue eye Quaternary gets up and moves to sit next to green eye Quaternary and I take shotgun. "This could just be a publicity stunt. Mr. Pratt is running for governor or at least he will be. Mrs. Pratt is going to announce it tonight." I say as I watch the country become more city. "Can't take that chance." She calls back to Tertiary. "Call Michelle." I look at her concerned. "We might not have much of a choice." She whispers to me. Tertiary is already on his phone. "Hey, baby cakes. It's me, your flaming hunk of love. Listen, can you talk?" I can hear Tertiary but my attention is on Primary. "Should we change the plan then?" She shakes her head. "Quaternary is 95% sure that if we don't do this tonight, we won't get another chance. It's literally now or never." I grimace but accept it. "And we're certain about our information." She nods again. "Quaternary was able to confirm everything." She looks at me and gives me her mom smile. "Listen, I know this is going to be tough, believe me I know, but we'll get through this." Another smile then, "Oh look, a Mr. Whisk," Calling back "Who wants french toast?" As Primary pulls off the freeway to the family style restaurant, I go over what I saw in Mrs. Pratt's head and a name that I just can't shake. "Who in the hell are the Gem Knights?" (Present day) I still find it strange that such a simple thing as pearls can bring back such powerful memories but as my husband said earlier, I am thankful to them. Not simply because they brought him into my life but also because of what they gave me: A purpose. I realize in my day dreaming that I have actually made it to my destination. The house is enormous and beautiful. A manor house not unlike those seen on tv. It actually might have been on tv. The fence and gate are cast iron and the faint sound of electricity is in the air. I make my way to the front gate and wave at the camera. A second or two later and the gate opens to a beautiful front lawn that puts the cover of home and garden to shame. Making my way up the walkway, I hope that my being here doesn't put others in danger. It would just be my luck for the fight in New York to make its way down here. The door is already opened and a body throws itself at me before I reach it. I just barely manage to catch it without falling over. I laugh, "It's good to see you, Rebecca. How's school?" Green eye Quaternary, now 17, grins at me as I set her down. "I'm so glad you're here. He's been driving us nuts." Practically dragging me inside, the young Asian woman pushes me into the living room where a massive 60-inch tv is on some Asian drama and blue eye Quaternary is watching, her feet on the glass table in front of her. She doesn't turn her head. "There's waffles in the kitchen if you want." "Thank you Allison, but I already ate." I answer politely. "That and you probably can't eat with the fight going on, right?" I try to grin. "Is it that obvious." Allison changes the channel to the news and pictures of the fight are flashing across the screen. I don't see my husband but I do see him. Even though he's almost 2 hours and 100 miles away, the look of pure hatred in his crazed eyes is enough to make me nauseous. Rebecca hands me a glass of water. "Here, you'll need it." I take it and drink. Looking at her, I ask, "Is there anything more?" She shakes her head. "Neither of us can see anything concrete. It's all very scattered at this point. The only thing we know for certain is that you'll be involved in the end." I accept that. I have to, because this is my doing. "Anything from Quinary?" A shrug. "She's busy out there." She points to the tv. "No time to answer her phone. You could always reach her." She gives me knowing look and a sigh. "Not with Snowy Owl there, I'll end up exposing all of us." "Yes, please don't do that, I have an interview with MIT next week and can't afford to be sent to federal prison or some concentration camp for the gifted." Allison says as she picks up a piece of paper next to her and begins writing. "Don't worry sis, I'm sure Logan would come visit you in prison." Allison picks up a pillow to throw and I smile. I'm glad these two are happy. They were the only thing I've done right in my life and I'm proud of what they've accomplished. Still, it wasn't all a spring picnic for them or any of us. Looking at the TV, I watch as my husband comes charging across the screen, is black uniform ripped and torn with splashes of blood here and there. I don't want to watch but I have to. In the silence of my head, I do something I haven't done since that night in Chicago. I pray. Please God. Don't take him from me. Not him too. Please let him come home alive and in one piece. Please. In the silence, I hear Quaternary begin to speak something all too familiar. "The enemy of all men will be brought down by the dark but only by the endless light will we be saved." I hate prophecy. Please send all comments and questions to gartheads@gmail.com