49: Don’t we ever get a break?

Between the beating he’d received at school and the thrashing from Simba, Jack was worn out. Lying on his back, he twisted his head, looking around the room in awe. Things were flying everywhere, some crashing through windows. Items collided midair, both being broken and doing the breaking. It was a nightmare.

Michael, Amanda, and Juliette, seemed to be holding their own against the two other Kinetics, while Clair—when she was visible amid the chaos—had a wretched and frustrated look on her face. The psycho girl was biting her lip, and every time she tried to use Manipulation, another table would fly in her direction, obscuring her vision.

Melissa eyed the Reinforcer like two cowboys before a shootout. For a few moments neither of the two made any move, and then in the blink of an eye it started. Melissa and the man dashed at each other, their fists colliding.

Jack wondered what he could do to help. He tried again to sit up, but his body was too exhausted. It’d been a grueling day. His only option was to lie there and hope backup arrived soon.

Wait a minute. Does anyone even know this is happening?

Jack replayed the last few minutes in his mind, trying to recall if anyone had actually managed to call for help. While he had no doubt the frightened diners would alert the police, he didn’t think anyone who really knew what was going on had been in the restaurant. That meant …

H.Q doesn’t know!

It would only be a few minutes before the police showed up. They’d surround the area, but they’d have no idea who or what they were up against, which meant there was something Jack could do after all. He looked around the room, and with a semi-satisfied grunt, he realized he was being completely ignored; everyone was occupied doing some Psych-thing or another.

Jack rolled over on his stomach—then paused. When no one paid him any mind, he removed the phone from his back pocket. Jack flinched as Melissa’s body soared overhead. She landed on her feet and dashed forward the moment she hit the ground, charging at the lion-bearded man for another round of attack.

The door to the kitchen was ripped free and sent hurling at Davie, who responded by picking up a booth from the waiting area and flinging it in defense. The booth won, knocking away the door, but it was slowed just enough so that Juliette was able wave her hand at it. She sent it crashing back to the floor, still upright and in a sitting position.

Jack hovered over his phone, hiding it under his body, and dialed. There were only two rings before someone picked up.

“Hey, sweetie,” answered his mother’s voice. “Having fun? Listen, umm, I’m glad you called. I think Melissa might be heading your way, and in case you actually well, you know, managed to … yeah. Just make sure you—”

“Mom,” Jack interrupted. He forced his voice into a whisper, despite the desire to scream. “Umm, I need your help. Like, right now.”

His mother’s voice was stern, but there was still some softness in it. “I can’t deal with your lady problems, Jack. You need to learn to—”

“No!” Jack screamed, no longer caring who heard. “Those Psychs from before, they … they’re back! I don’t know how they found us, mom, but there’s like a, umm, Psych-fight going on or whatever it’s called, and we’re dying and stuff.”

“W-what?” Alana shouted. “Jack, don’t joke around about these things.”

“I’m not joking! We were eating, and then there were gunshots, and then the people came and killed the chefs, and then—I mean now—everything’s all flying and being exploded and Melissa is doing karate on someone and … gah! I don’t know what to do!”

“I see …” In an instant, Alana’s voice hardened. The warmth was gone, and the voice on the other end was the one Jack had come to fear. “Listen carefully, and listen well. You’re to remain low, stay on the phone, and report everything that’s happening.” There was a beeping sound, and a myriad of voices entered the conversation.

“This is Kelp,” said a voice.

“E.R.T officer James Hayworth,” said another. “General Harris, please state your emergency.”

More and more voices entered the fray, and within a few moments, it sounded like a hundred people were joining in on the conversation. Alana spoke to each one of them. Some were even generals, or at least they identified themselves as such.

“Twice in one day?” asked a woman’s voice. Jack remembered hearing it before. It was an older woman, Grace Flores. She was what they called a Sr. Commander. “Alana, I’d like to give this entire rogue Psych team a mark, if I may. To attack our agents twice in one day, especially after being chased away … hmm, we need to elevate their status.”

“I agree,” Alana said. “How soon can we get people there? Do we have anyone in the immediate area?”

Another gruff sounding voice answered, “No, General Harris, but we can have an Op. team there within in ten minutes.”

“Negative!” shouted yet another voice. “It’s too soon to be putting out kill-orders. We haven’t even given the suspects a chance yet.”

“Oh?” answered even another voice. Jack had no idea who was saying what anymore. Each time someone spoke, it was a different voice.

“I agree,” said someone. “They’re too dangerous. We need a kill order, and we need it approved right now.”

“It’s way too soon!” demanded someone else. “I agree!” said another. “We don’t even know who we’re dealing with,” said another.

“What does it matter? These people clearly need to be put down,” responded another.

What in the heck is going on? Jack wondered.

His phone call was turning into a massive debate over what to do about the people that were currently trying to murder his friends. He growled and hung up the phone. Jack didn’t care if he was ordered to stay on the line; he wasn’t willing to sit there and listen to ridiculous politics.

I thought Psychs were smart. They sound like the kids that are always yelling at each other in philosophy club.

Melissa and the other Reinforcer appeared evenly matched. Melissa spun, bringing up her back leg into a powerful kick. She connected, slamming it into the man’s face. He retaliated, hitting her in the gut. They were engaged in a full-on brawl. They locked arms and began tossing each other around, the two damaging everything they came in contact with. Melissa crashed into a wall, leaving a large dent, and then she grabbed a hold of the man in turn, spinning around and slamming him into the same wall.

Michael and Amanda were now on their knees, sweating and panting. Juliette was standing, but she too looked about ready to collapse. Davie and his brother were in similar positions, but they, along with Clair, wore menacing grins, and Jack knew why: once the Kinetics had all worn themselves out, Clair would be free to go around and clean up house. Without all the hazards flying through the restaurant, nothing would be left to stop her from strolling up to them and turning them into bloody puddles.

Jack closed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate. It was impossible for him to draw power without remaining focused. He ignored the sounds around him and took labored, relaxing breaths. He searched for that vile part of himself, the place that made him sick … and he drew on it. It disgusted him, as it always did. He felt the power surge into him, drawing on it until the last possible moment. A millisecond longer and he wouldn’t be able to stop.

Despite the pain in his arms, Jack pushed himself back to his feet, standing on shaking legs. The power filled him, but he didn’t know what to do with it. Melissa was right. It didn’t matter how much he could draw if he didn’t have the experience or knowledge to properly use it. He searched his mind, seeing all of the unfamiliar triggers, which shifted away into levers, buttons, and then back into triggers: moving, rotating, and shifting.

Jack knew instinctually that it would be dangerous to pick one at random, but what was he supposed to do? This was a situation that required more than simple Telekinesis to fix. Jack yelped as another booth raced towards his three exhausted Kinetic friends.

Michael squeezed his hand into a fist, and the booth was sent flying back at those who’d thrown it. It seemed to be the breaking point for him. He collapsed, landing face-forward on the floor. Juliette was now on her knees, and her mother seemed moments from joining Michael.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Davie said from across the room. “I think we’re about to win this. Clair, you ready, girl?”

She answered by chortling. Apparently, she had a yes-chortle and a no-chortle. Jack didn’t think he liked her very much.

“Look out!” screamed Melissa. Jack turned around and barked a half-cry half-grunt, then ducked under the rogue Reinforcer’s flying body. He crashed into a table behind Jack, smashing the thing. Melissa’s outstretched fist and sly grin were the only indications Jack needed to know she’d landed a powerful punch.

The man spat, bloody drool trailing his lips. He pushed himself back to his feet. Then the two resumed their brawl, while Juliette tried her best to hold off the more powerful Kinetics across the room. Things were falling out of their favor and into the rogue Psychs’. Melissa seemed to be the only one on their side still doing well.

Jack decided to intervene—enough was enough. He walked to the other end of the room, ignoring Michael and Juliette’s protesting shouts.

Davie’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? What’s this? Hey, he’s coming right to us.”

“What a good kid,” Robby said. “Making our life easier. Right, Clair?”

“A good boy indeed,” she chortled.

The three seemed unworried as Jack approached them. He folded his arms and curled his lips. He gave them the same disappointed look his mother sometimes gave him.

“I want you three to cut this out. More people are gonna start dying if you don’t knock it off.”

Davie looked at the two next to him, before turning over his hands in a gesture of confusion. “Well, duh, that’s kinda the point, no?”

“Maybe,” Jack said. “But I’ve called more Psychs while you guys were fighting. They’re on their way.”

“You did what!” Robby shouted. “Dammit, I knew we should’ve kept an eye on this kid. It’ll take us at least two more minutes to finish this up.”

“Well,” Jack said. “They actually won’t be here for another ten, but the thing that’s important here is—” Jack covered his mouth, realizing how stupid his words were. “Ah! Ah! I meant two, I meant two minutes! Not ten! Two!”

Davie scratched his head. “Well, which is it, kid? Are they gonna be here in ten minutes or two?”

Both Robby and Clair smacked Davie on the back of the head. “You’re both idiots!” they yelled. Clair turned back to Jack and smiled. “Scream for me, boy.”

She extended her palm, and in an instant, Jack felt the first flash of heat. It was exactly the same as when Andy had tried to use Manipulation on him. His face began to sweat, but he ignored the urge to succumb to fear. Jack reached into himself, visualizing all the switches and triggers, the buttons and levers, and he reached for one, grabbing at random.

The Manipulation stopped at once. Jack, along with everyone else in the restaurant, fell to his knees as an ear-splitting ringing sound filled the room. It was hideously loud, drowning out all other noise. Jack screamed, unable to hear even that. From the looks of the three Psychs in front of him, they too were shouting.

What did I just do? Oh, God, what the hell did I just do? This is so loud!

Jack cupped his hands over his ears, a gesture mimicked by all. Clair’s mouth was moving, but Jack couldn’t hear her words. He didn’t need to be a lip reader to know what she was pleading, though. “Make it stop,” were the words her lips formed at him. “Someone make it stop!”

Whatever Jack had done, in addition to causing the unbearable ringing, seemed to make it impossible to use power.

“Make this horrible noise stop!” Clair’s lips repeated.

Jack yelled back at her, slowly, hoping she could read his lips. “It’s still not as bad as your laughter!”

Clair’s features tightened in anger, and she lip-synced back, “You’re a jerk, and a stupid one. You’re so stupid that you look into the mirror to see if your eyes are open.”

Dark anger flooded Jack and, despite the desperate cries from the Psychs falling to the ground all around the room, he ignored the ringing. He took a deep breath before mouthing back, “Oh yea? Well, you’re so stupid that you managed to trip over a cordless phone!”

“Oh no you didn’t,” Clair lipped back. “Yo momma’s so fat she could be the eighth continent!”

Even though Jack couldn’t actually hear the words, they still registered in his mind. He boiled with rage, and a single thought came to the center of his awareness.

This girl is too dangerous. She needs to be stopped.

Jack moved his lips with fury, hoping his rage came through with the gesture. “Yo momma’s so ugly, that they knew what time she was born because her face stopped the clock!”

Clair spat at him, grossing Jack out, so he spat back, and for the next few moments the two lobbed globs of spit at each other. Jack had never disliked anyone as much as he disliked this crazy nutcase.

“You are now my gravest enemy,” Clair lip-synced, standing to her feet and pulling up Davie and Robby by their arms. “Don’t think this is over.”

Jack nodded and lip-synched back, “This will never be over.”

He tried to stop the ringing; it was beginning to drive him crazy. It was hard to walk, but he limped over to Michael, Juliette, and Amanda, the three rolling on the ground with their hands covering their ears. Clair followed behind him, limping just the same. She covered one ear, and with her free hand, she pulled the lion-looking man away from Melissa. The two were still on their feet, but they too struggled against the sound, hands clasped tightly over their ears.

Jack trembled when he met Melissa’s gaze. She was giving him an evil look, as if to say, “I know this is your doing.”

Jack wanted to make it stop, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t even know what he’d done in the first place. The four Psychs fled the restaurant through the door in the back, and Jack made no attempt to pursue them. At least whatever he’d done had put a quick end to the fight. Jack knew that the ringing would continue for as long as he held onto the power. He tried to throw a few Telekinetic bursts, to use what he still held, but the ringing prevented even his own use of power, despite being the one making it happen.

Oh maaaan, what did I do this time?

He searched his mind for the trigger, for some way of deactivating whatever he’d turned on, but he was as much a victim of his own ability as anyone else was.

There was one thing Jack was certain of, however. The ringing wouldn’t harm any of them. He didn’t know how he knew, but he was positive. It was painful and disorienting, but it would pass, and there would be no lasting damage.

The ringing softened a little, and five minutes later faded completely. Michael sighed in relief when the last of it had passed. Then he crawled back to his feet. His shirt was soaked with sweat, his hair drenched from the exertion. He was the first to speak.

“Juliette, Amanda, I’m so sorry. My team is a bit cursed these days. I reckon I just brought you into some trouble.”

Amanda came to a slow rise then put an arm around Michael’s shoulder. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. If you’ve done your job well enough that the bad guys are the ones looking for you, then you’re pretty cool in my book. Heck, I’m just glad my daughter and I were here to help. But what was that ringing sound that chased them away?”

“Ah, that was me,” Jack said. “Sorry about that.”

Juliette shook her head, blinking in confusion. “But you’re a Kinetic like I am, Jack.”

“Okay, see … here’s the thing. I’m kind of an Unrestricted. I’m sorry. Even among Psychs I’m a freak.”

Juliette didn’t flinch as Jack expected her to. “No, you’re not. You’re wonderful, that’s what you are. Hey, who’s that person?” she asked, pointing to Melissa, who was dusting herself off.

“I could ask you the same,” Melissa said. “Michael, Jack, what are these Psychs doing with you two? They were here from the start, so I know they’re not back up. Did they just happen to be in the same restaurant at the same time?”

Jack’s mind exploded in a panic. Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap!

Jack needed an excuse, and he needed one now. He tried to think of some explanation, something that would get him out of hot water.

That’s right! I don’t even have to lie.

Jack forced calm into his voice before answering. “Oh, Michael and I did a freelance job with them.”

“In the pizzeria?”

“No, in the park nearby. We just came here for some food, and then those guys showed up.”

“Where’s the rest of her team?”

Melissa had a skeptical look, yet behind her dubious glance, Jack could see genuine hurt. Could his mother have been right? Was it possible that Melissa actually did like him?

When Jack didn’t answer, Juliette stepped to his side and answered for him. She put an arm around his waist and pulled him close to her.

“He’s on a date with me,” she said. “I’m Juliette, by the way, nice to meet ya. Jack and I are going to the camp together on Friday, but I’m guessing you’ve already been through it. Don’t worry; I’ll take good care of your teammate.”

Jack felt his heart bursting in his chest. What was Juliette trying to do?

“I see,” Melissa whispered. “Well, that’s nice.” The pain in her eyes was unmistakable. She looked betrayed, broken, but at the same time managed to hide it behind a mask of confidence. “Anyway, I’m sure this place will be swarming with activity pretty soon. It’s going to be just like earlier, Jack, so cooperate with whoever shows up. We’ve now got a mountain of work to do.”

She turned away, sauntered over to the other end of the restaurant, and then sat down on one of the few unbroken tables. Jack looked over to Juliette, his emotions running wild. “Juliette, why did—?”

“I know her type,” Juliette said. “Jack, you asked me out on a date, and I accepted. But I won’t be used, and I won’t be toyed with. You told me you liked me. Did you mean it?”

“Yeah, but I—”

“Then it’s settled. Like I said, I know that girl’s type. She’ll make you go to the ends of the earth just to reject you again. By the time she deems you worthy, you won’t even want her anymore. Before these lunatics attacked us, what did you blurt out to me? Let me remind you: ‘You’re so beautiful, and I know I’ve got no chance with you.’ It was something like that, right?”

Jack blushed, remembering his humiliating slip of the tongue. “Ah … yeah, I remember.”

“Well,” she said, nodding in Melissa’s direction. “Now I know why you feel that way. I hate girls like her; they’re the reason you feel the way you do. But guess what?” She smiled and her cheeks brightened. “I’m gonna show you that you are good enough.”

Jack opened his mouth to reply, but he was silenced as Juliette’s lips filled his own. It was so sudden that he didn’t have a chance to react. Juliette pulled him in, and Jack’s mind became a torrent of passion and confusion. She was sweaty and worn, yet that didn’t slow her down. She grabbed his face in both of her hands while she kissed him. It was only a few seconds, but Jack fought through the confusion and pulled away. He couldn’t do something like this in front of Melissa. It was cruel.

The damage was already done, though. Melissa eyed them from across the room, with a bitter and dark glow in her eyes. Juliette grinned at her, and Melissa stood from the table and stormed out of the restaurant.

“Hmm?” Amanda said. “Does that girl not know protocol? She can’t just leave. Michael, we need to—”

“Let her go,” Michael said. He whispered something into Amanda’s ear, and the team-leader relaxed, nodding.

“I see. That’s unfortunate. And sad.”

****

“Like I’ve been saying,” Deven continued. “If you continue to tell me nothing, then I continue to know nothing, Rose.”

Deven sat back in his chair. Anyone who wished to deal with General Rose needed to learn patience, or they’d instead learn disappointment. Deven hoped this time she’d only read a few pages before answering.

Deven had only known Rose for a few years, but in that time he’d come to learn one thing for certain about the woman: she’d rather die than say something she’d later regret. Rose never uttered a single word until she was positive she’d formed her response perfectly.

Today was proving to be among the most hectic in Deven’s recent memory. He’d been back and forth to Jersey so many times he’d lost count. After dropping Jack and Alana back home, he’d returned to H.Q to speak with Rose. Before he’d so much as poured himself a cup of coffee, he’d gotten the disturbing phone call. The same clowns from before had attacked yet again. Paro and the forensics teams were still held up in Kazou’s apartment collecting evidence, and already there was a second scene to attend to.

To make things worse, it was now common knowledge among every Psych in the organization ranked captain or higher, that Jack Harris was an Unrestricted. There’d been an uproar between the Investigative and Operations departments. The Op. teams were furious, demanding to know why “Carebears” needed an Unrestricted. The Investigative teams, on the other hand, demanded to know why the Op. teams needed more weapons of mass murder.

Some of the former Op. team generals had even threatened to take Deven to the high courts for his actions, but they were of course only bluffing. No general in their right mind—and even those in their wrong ones—would bring any other general to court over anything. It never ended well.

Usually, the proceedings had a pattern. For the first day they’d discuss the issue that brought them there. Then, they’d dig up dirt on each other, exposing the myriad of past wrong-doings that every general had under their belts. Finally, after months of scandal and accusations, both generals would be sentenced to death, as every mistake they’d ever made would be laid on the table before the judge.

Much like any other Government organization, The Psych Operatives were just as prone to corruption, wrongdoing, and a host of other problems. The generals did the best they could to run the organization, and over the years, they’d learned the consequences of bringing each other to the courts.

More than likely the Op. teams would retaliate, however. They’d be voracious in their revenge, they always were. In response to Deven placing the Harris-kid with the Investigative. teams, Op. teams everywhere would begin hunting down line-breakers, the people who barely crossed the line that qualified them as targets.

It filled Deven with sadness. His actions were going to result in the deaths of the others. Yet, he knew better than to take responsibility for the Op. teams’ actions. No, he did not deserve the blame.

The thought of line-breakers reminded him of Cemmera Wilson. Now there was someone that liked to go after helpless prey. She enjoyed picking the most innocuous of targets. Under law, when a Psych had illegally acquired any combination of money, goods, or services, valued at twenty thousand dollars or higher, they “technically” qualified as Op. team targets.

Most Op. teams avoided them, because despite all the bad blood, Op. teams still required the assistance of Investigative teams, so they allowed the smaller fry to live. Now, however, that would change for a while. Because of Deven’s actions, minor criminals were going to be slaughtered all over the country.

Rose removed the book hiding her face. “I’ve told you what I can, General Moore. I will tell you this, though. I’m going to meet with the Harris-boy, sometime soon. I need to spend some time with him, probably on Friday. I’ll take him to the airport, and fly with him to the camp. You, in the meantime, need to return to New Jersey and bring him back here. Keep him at H.Q until I come to pick him up on Friday.”

Deven shrugged. “Again I’ve gotta go back to Jersey? Why, Rose?”

Deven waited patiently while she flipped through the pages in her book. He tapped his fingers on his desk and even had time to play a game of solitaire on his computer. Asking Rose a question was a demonstration of patience. She’d flip through her book until she was ready to answer.

“Because,” she said finally, “while few things in the future are certain, one thing is clear: tomorrow, at twelve-forty-five P.M. Jack Harris will allow himself to be killed by a psychotic girl in a bloodstained wedding dress.”

Deven became alarmed. “W-What? Time out, Rose. What do you mean he’ll be killed? By who? You said he’ll ‘allow himself,’ how so? Stop reading and answer me, dammit!” Deven slammed his fists on his desk. Neither the gesture nor the following bang broke Rose’s concentration. Deven grunted and leaned back in his chair.

A quiet settled over the room, the only sound being the soft sliding of paper as Rose turned yet another page. When she finally spoke, she closed the book entirely. “These people are persistent, and they will not give up. The girl will approach Mr. Harris, and she will attack him. The boy will draw on his power, but he is inexperienced, he will draw too much. He will realize he doesn’t know how to be gentle; he doesn’t know how to moderate it. He will have a choice between killing the girl, and being killed. And then he will die. This, I have seen. You should leave now.”

Deven sighed and picked up the wired phone on his desk. “This is General Moore. I need another ride. Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”