فصل 29

Chapter 29: Back Home

Two undercover police cars were still parked on Taylor’s street when we returned, though not the same cars or officers. I figured that there must have been a shift change.

We turned onto the road past Taylor’s, drove to the end of the street, turned, and then again passed Taylor’s street, parking on Hampton Road, which ran along the south side of Meridian High. Fortunately there was enough light from the moon that the three of us wouldn’t be standing out like walking glowsticks.

Ian took one last long look around as we got out of the car and made our way along the school’s wood-slat fence to Taylor’s backyard, about seventy-five yards from our car.

“It’s right here,” Taylor said. She walked up to the wooden fence and ran her hand down it until she found the loose slats and pulled two of them aside. “I can’t believe that after all these years no one’s ever fixed this thing.” “Do they have a dog?” Gervaso asked.

“No dogs,” Ian said before Taylor could answer.

“There’s a woman inside playing the piano. And a cat.” “That’s Mrs. Glad,” Taylor said. “She teaches piano to half the kids in the neighborhood. Her husband owns some kind of metalworking place, so he’s always working late.” “Is anyone in Taylor’s home?” Gervaso asked Ian.

“No. Still vacant.”

“What about their cars?”

“They’re still there.”

“I wonder where he is,” Taylor said. “If he’s at work, his car wouldn’t be there.” “He’s not at work,” Gervaso said. “Remember, he’s been suspended.” “What if he doesn’t come back tonight?” I asked.

“If he’s not back by tomorrow, we’ll have to hunt him down,” Gervaso said.

“Maybe he went on vacation,” Ian suggested.

“With his wife just incarcerated?” Gervaso said. “I doubt it. Not if he loves her.” “Of course he loves her,” Taylor said tersely.

We crossed the back of the neighbor’s yard, then, on all fours, crawled into Taylor’s backyard behind an overgrown hedge. It appeared that all the lights were off except for one—a small dome light in the kitchen.

“Are we still safe?” Gervaso asked.

“Still safe,” Ian said.

“Does your home have an alarm system?” “It didn’t,” Taylor said.

“If they installed one, they would put stickers on the windows,” Gervaso said. “Ian, can you see an alarm?” “I don’t see any wires around the door.” “How about motion detectors?”

“Not that I can see.”

“All right,” Gervaso said. “Just be prepared.” “I’ll get the key,” Taylor said. She crept up to the back door, then squatted down and looked under a stone, lifting the key from beneath it. Then she got up, unlocked the door, and went inside.

“You’re next, Michael,” Gervaso said. “Then Ian.” “Okay,” I said. I stood, ran to the door, and slipped inside.

There was a single light on above the kitchen sink. Taylor was standing to the side of the kitchen, looking at a large family photograph on the wall.

“I can’t believe I’m finally home,” she said. Then she reached out to me. “Come with me. I want to see my room.” I took her hand, and we walked out of the kitchen and down the hall. For a moment she stood in her room’s doorway, just staring inside. I looked over her shoulder. “What are you thinking?” “It looks exactly the way it did the day I left.” She turned back to me. “They were expecting me back. They never gave up on me coming back.” “Of course not,” I said. “They love you.” I followed her into her room, which was only illuminated by our glow. It was feminine, with a four-poster bed and pink-and-red polka-dot wallpaper adorned with large pictures of Taylor cheerleading. Pinned to the wall above her bed were two felt flags, one goldenrod, the other purple, with the word “WARRIORS” next to a picture of Meridian High School’s mascot.

On top of her bed was a mountain of pillows and her cheerleading outfit, which looked freshly pressed and laid out, as if it were just waiting for her to return and put it on. Against one wall was a white antique three-drawer writing desk beneath a cork message board. The desk had a pewter desk lamp on one side hanging over a framed picture of Taylor and her two older brothers.

I picked up the picture. “Do you think about them very much?” “All the time,” she said softly. “I’d give anything to talk to them.” She corrected herself. “I guess anything but risk everyone’s lives.” She breathed out slowly. “Why do I have a feeling I’ll never see this again?” I didn’t know what to say. Finally I took her hand. “We better get back with the others.” We walked back out into the hallway and out to the front room, where Gervaso was standing near the front door. He held a small penlight in his teeth. He had taken the cover off the light switch and was doing something with the wires. Ian was sitting backward on the couch, staring at the wall, which would seem weird for anyone but him. To Ian pretty much everything was a window.

“Anything?” I asked.

“The cops are bored,” he said. “That one keeps picking his nose.” “Thanks for sharing that,” Taylor said. She sat down on a love seat.

“How does it feel to be back home?” Ian asked.

“It feels sad,” she said. “Like a morgue.” “That’s because no one’s here,” he said.

“Or maybe because I’ve buried so many of my memories here,” she replied.

“What are you doing?” I asked Gervaso.

“Just throwing him off a little when he gets here. Sometimes the simplest distractions are the best.” He put the switch plate back on and had begun to screw it into place when Ian said, “Someone’s coming. A police car.” “One of the undercover police?”

“No. It’s a third car. This one’s marked and has a rack on top.” Taylor walked over and took Ian’s arm. “That’s my father in the passenger seat.” “Who’s that with him?” Ian asked.

“I think that’s his boss. The chief.” “They’re pulling into the driveway.”

“I’m going to the kitchen,” Taylor said.

“They’re in the driveway,” Ian said. “He just shut off the car. They’re talking.” “What do we do if the chief comes in with him?” I asked.

“We go out the back door,” Gervaso said. “Ian, tell us if the chief starts to get out of the car.

“Will do.”

For a moment none of us spoke. Then I asked, “What’s going on?” “They’re just talking.”

“Can you read their lips?” Gervaso asked.

“No. Now they’re shaking hands. Taylor’s dad just opened the car door.” “Is he armed?”

“No. He’s not in uniform.”

“Give us the step-by-step,” Gervaso said.

“He’s getting out. They’re still talking . . . still talking. . . . He shut the door. . . . The chief’s pulling out of the driveway; Taylor’s dad is waiting . . . waiting. . . . He waves. . . . Okay, he’s walking to the front door. He’s taking out his keys.” His voice fell to a whisper. “He’s on the front porch. . . .” Gervaso raised his hand to stop Ian from talking. We could hear the sound of Mr. Ridley’s key enter the doorknob. The handle turned, and a moment later the door opened. Mr. Ridley stepped inside, reaching for the light switch. He flipped it several times.

“What the . . .”

Still in the dark he shut the door and locked it. Then, as he turned, he saw us. Or at least our glows. For a moment he froze; then he reached for his gun before realizing that he wasn’t carrying it.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” Gervaso said. He turned on the lamp on the sofa’s end table.

Mr. Ridley looked at us anxiously. “Who are you?” “We’re your friends.”

“I know my friends,” he replied. “I don’t know you.” “Still, we are your friends,” Gervaso said.

“Why is their skin glowing like that?” “We’ll explain later,” Gervaso said.

“Mr. Ridley, you know me,” I said.

Mr. Ridley’s eyes narrowed. “Vey. What have you done with my daughter?” His hand clenched into a fist.

“You should have a seat,” Gervaso said, motioning to an armchair across from us. “Please.” Mr. Ridley stood for a moment, as if not sure what to do. Then he slowly went to the seat and sat down. He looked at us for a moment, then asked, “What cartel are you with?” “We’re not with a cartel,” Gervaso said.

“Are you the people my wife said are going to kill her?” “No. We’re here to protect her from those people. Like I said, we’re friends.” Mr. Ridley just looked confused. “Did you take my daughter?” “Again, you’re confusing us for the other side. Michael rescued your daughter. We’re the ones who brought her back.” “Back? Back where?”

“I’m right here, Daddy,” Taylor said, turning the hall light on. Tears were running down her face.

Mr. Ridley swung around. For a moment he just stared in disbelief. Then he said, “Taylor!” They ran to each other and embraced. “My girl. Oh, my girl.” They held each other for several minutes. “I’ve missed you so much,” Mr. Ridley said. “I can’t believe you’re really here.” “I’ve missed you, Daddy. More than I can say.” He leaned back, kissed her on the forehead, then hugged her again. “I just can’t believe you’re really here.” After another minute he looked into her eyes. “Please don’t ever leave us again.” “She didn’t leave you,” I said. “She was kidnapped. The day before you came to see me.” He looked back at me. “Who kidnapped her?” “A group of people called the Elgen.” He looked back at Taylor. “Did they hurt you?” She hesitated, then lied. “No.”

“Thank God. I thought you ran away. The texts I read . . . they broke my heart.” “I’m so sorry. Michael told me the Elgen had done that. They must have made it look like I’d run away so you wouldn’t get the police involved.” After a while he looked back at me. “You knew she’d been kidnapped?” I shook my head. “No. I only suspected it.” “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t that simple,” Gervaso said. “This organization is very secretive and very powerful. It’s also international. If the police had gotten involved, the Elgen would have taken your daughter to some remote part of the world where no one would ever find her again. Michael did the right thing.” Mr. Ridley turned back to Taylor. “Why would they kidnap you? They didn’t even ask for a ransom.” “They kidnapped her because she’s special,” Gervaso said. “Just like Michael.” “What do you mean, ‘special’?” Mr. Ridley asked.

Gervaso looked at him intensely. “What I’m about to tell you is going to be a little difficult to believe.” Taylor took his hand. “Dad, you need to listen very carefully. What we’re going to tell you is really weird.” “How weird?”

“Like aliens, UFO weird,” Ian said.

Mr. Ridley glanced back and forth between us. He looked skeptical. “You’re going to tell me she was abducted by aliens?” “No,” Gervaso said. “Not aliens. Worse.” “All right, try me.”

“We don’t have time to explain everything, but your daughter was born different from other children. She’s electric.” He looked at us, then back at Taylor. “I don’t understand.” “Michael and Taylor are both electric,” Gervaso said. “So is Ian. They are three of seventeen electric children who were part of a failed hospital experiment. Electricity runs through their bodies. That’s why they glow. It also gives them special gifts.” “What kind of gifts?”

“Michael?” Gervaso said. “Show him something.” I held out my hand, then pulsed, creating a grapefruit-size lightning ball.

Mr. Ridley stared in disbelief. “How did you do that?” “Like I said, they’re electric,” Gervaso said.

He turned to Taylor. “You can do that?” “No. I have other powers.”

“Like what?”

She took his hand. “Think of something.” “Like what?”

“Anything. It doesn’t matter.”

“All right.”

Taylor closed her eyes. “You’re thinking this is crazy. And you still want to hit Michael for not telling you I was kidnapped.” “That’s good to know,” I said. “I saved your daughter. You should want to hug me or something.” “That’s not going to happen,” he said. “And you could have guessed that.” “Then think of a number,” Taylor said.

He looked at us all skeptically, then said, “Okay. I’ll play along.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then said, “You thought of number three thousand, two hundred and sixty-eight, our address. Then you changed your mind and decided that you’re not going to think of a number so you can ruin my trick.” Mr. Ridley looked at her. “How did you do that?” “That’s my gift. I can read your brain’s electrical signals—your thoughts. I can also reboot people’s brains.” “What do you mean?”

“Remember that time when Ryan was in the final round of the spelling bee and the best speller in the state suddenly choked and kept asking over and over again for the word?” “Yes. . . .”

“That’s because I kept rebooting him.” “You were only eight.”

“That’s about the time I was figuring out what I could do,” she said.

Gervaso said, “The people who made these children electric have been hunting them down. Michael and Taylor were the last ones they found. They tried to kidnap Michael, but something went wrong and they took his mother instead. They knew if they had her, Michael would come after her, which is the same thing the Elgen did to your wife. Only they framed her and, we assume, leaked the information to the police. Probably an anonymous caller.” “You’re right, it was an anonymous caller,” Mr. Ridley said.

“They knew that if she was in jail, Taylor would come to save her. And that’s when they planned to capture her.” “That’s what Julie was saying,” Mr. Ridley said. “She said they were just using her to get Taylor.” “She’s telling the truth,” Gervaso said.

“Do you know my wife?” Mr. Ridley asked.

Gervaso nodded. “I met her three weeks ago. In Mexico.” “So that’s why she went to Mexico.” He turned to Taylor. “Did you see her there?” Taylor nodded. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She was going to, at the right time.” “She said she didn’t know where you were,” Mr. Ridley said.

“She didn’t. I left Mexico before she did.” “Your wife did as she was instructed,” Gervaso said. “To protect you and her. Had you known the truth, you both would be in jail right now. Or worse.” Mr. Ridley raked a hand back through his hair. “This is unbelievable.” “The Elgen think we’re going to try to break your wife out of jail. But we have a different plan. You’re going to post bail and get her out.” “I don’t have that kind of money. Not even if I put my home up as collateral.” “Which is what you’re going to do,” Gervaso said. “You’ll still be about ten thousand short. But you’re going to suddenly remember that you have a special investment account that has fifteen thousand dollars in it. Then, after she’s out, we’ll take all of you to a safe place.” Mr. Ridley thought a moment; then he said, “Just a sec.” He walked over to the coat closet near the doorway and reached inside.

“He has a gun,” Ian said.

Mr. Ridley turned back around, holding his police revolver.

“Daddy!” Taylor said.

“Just stay calm, honey,” Mr. Ridley said. “I know what I’m doing.” He looked at me. “Let me tell you what we’re going to do. I’m going to turn you in to the police, show them my daughter, and they’re going to let my wife go.” “No they won’t,” Gervaso said calmly.

“Dad,” Taylor said, “put the gun down.” “Six bullets in the chambers,” Ian said.

“You’re making a mistake,” Gervaso said. “We are not your enemy.” “You’ve had my daughter, and now you’re using me to get to my wife.” “We’re trying to protect Mrs. Ridley,” I said.

He scowled at me. “I don’t know how old you are, Vey, but you’re not too young to be tried as an adult for kidnapping.” “Dad, Michael didn’t kidnap me. He rescued me.” “Put the gun down, Officer Ridley,” Gervaso said.

“That’s not going to happen.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. “You can tell your crazy story down at police headquarters.” “I’ll take care of it,” I said to Gervaso. I reached out my hand. “Your phone’s no good. I’ve already scrambled it.” Mr. Ridley looked down at his phone, then back up. “What are you doing?” I took a step toward him. “Now put the gun down or I’ll take it from you.” He looked at me anxiously. “Stop right there. If you don’t think I’ll shoot, you’re mistaken.” “No, I just don’t care if you do.” I put my hand out. “Try it.” He leveled the gun at my chest. “Don’t try me, Vey.” “Dad, don’t!” Taylor shouted.

“Go on, Mr. Ridley. Shoot me. At least try to.” His hand was trembling. Finally he said, “You’re just a kid.” Then he pointed the gun at Gervaso. “But he’s not.” That’s when I blasted him.