19

The police kept them until almost dawn. The four of them wore EMS blankets over their bedclothes, until neighbors brought over sweats and hot cocoa. The street was crowded with flashing lights and onlookers. Their home and Carver’s were both completely destroyed. Ash and cinder formed dark imprints over the cellars. The Charger was a total wreck. Again. Firemen swarmed through the smoldering debris. Over and over they heard the same words. How amazing it was that they survived. How no one could explain them walking away from this alive, much less without a scratch.

There was no sign of Carver. Sean gave the police the number Carver had supplied and shared a worried glance with Dillon. They had to assume the guy had already left for wherever home was. But still, not knowing whether their one connection to the new life had survived was almost as troubling as the attack itself.

The police drove them to a local Homewood Suites. The cops must have called ahead, because the night manager met them at the door and took them straight to adjoining apartments. Sean and Dillon bedded down without a single spoken word. Only when the lights were out did Dillon ask, “Shields up?”

“You bet.”

“Heebie-jeebies?”

Sean took a good long look. “Not a peep.”

“Good.” A few breaths, then Dillon finally got around to saying what Sean had been worrying over since they scrambled from the basement. “In the middle of all that, I thought I heard you.”

“I know.”

“But you didn’t speak, did you?”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Did you hear me back?”

“Loud and clear.”

Dillon breathed long and low, and Sean’s chest pumped in tandem. Dillon asked, “Can you hear me now?”

“No. But maybe it’s on account of how you don’t usually have a single interesting thought.”

“Oh. Look at the funny man. Okay, I’m going to concentrate really hard.”

“Don’t blow a fuse.”

“Quiet.” A pause. “Anything?”

“Nothing. Let me try.”

Then, “My brother, the blank wall.”

“Good.” Sean half meant it. “Stay out of my dreams.”

Dillon rolled over. “Like I would ever want to go there.”

They arrived downstairs for breakfast to find Carver and Counselor Tatyana already seated at a table together with their parents. Carver wore dress slacks and a polo shirt, their parents were still dressed in loaned sweats. Tatyana wore a business suit of muted blue. Sean’s folks looked red-eyed and severely shaken, and they listened in silence as the Counselor offered professional condolences. Sean and Dillon grabbed some food and took up station at the next table.

The Counselor was saying, “My company can’t be certain, but we fear that we may be at fault. There was apparently a leak in an old gas line. If so, we are to blame.”

“But we don’t have gas,” Sean’s mother protested.

“Even if you did, it would have come from a different line. The pipe in question was set in place back in the forties. It doesn’t appear on any current survey maps. But we fear we’re responsible.”

Sean’s father rubbed his face. “I’d expect you guys to show up with an army of lawyers and a hundred different excuses.”

“Quite frankly, Mr. Kirrel, we’ve decided to leave that option for our phase two. Which would only come into play if we can’t settle this with you here and now.”

Carver played the role of aggrieved homeowner. “You just want to make all this go away?”

“As quietly and quickly as possible,” Tatyana said. “Where were you last night, by the way?”

“Visiting relatives,” Carver replied.

Sean’s mother asked, “What about all our things?”

Tatyana said, “If you are willing to settle today, my company will write you a check this morning for five times the value of your homes and all your contents.”

Carver said, “I accept your offer.”

Sean’s dad said, “We need a minute.”

Their mother protested, “Five times the house’s value? What’s to discuss? That’s more money—”

“We need to talk this through,” Sean’s dad insisted.

She gave her all-too-familiar sigh and turned away.

Carver rose from the table and jerked his chin toward the motel entrance. The twins rose with him. Sean said, “We’ll just be outside.”

The day was fresh, the wind welcome, the sky clear. Carver walked them midway across the parking lot and said, “Give me your report.”

Sean let Dillon talk. His twin tended to punch words in the wrong spots, emphasizing what should have gone smoothly, dropping in phrases that did not build a solid picture. But he thought Carver’s frown was more to do with what had happened than Dillon’s manner of speech. Dillon was still trying to describe how it felt to turn the flames around when the motel’s glass doors slid back and Tatyana appeared.

Carver motioned for her to join them and said to Dillon, “Start over.”

Her high heels made a crisp accent to her impatient walk. “Really, Carver, there are far more important issues than the growing talents—”

Carver held up his hand, then said to Dillon, “From the beginning.”

Sean thought his brother did an even worse job the second time around. But the response of the two adults was surprising. Carver continued his frowning inspection of the surrounding trees. But Tatyana offered a patronizing smile. Her disbelief was so evident, Dillon fumbled through the end and finished, “I know it sounds crazy.”

“That is not the word I would use.” Her reply carried a surprising gentleness. “Do you remember what the Examiner said when we met in the clinic?”

Dillon kicked at a stone and did not reply, so Sean said, “About recruits and stress.”

“What you are describing, the passing of thoughts from one individual to another, is a feat we have aimed for but cannot achieve with any regularity or clarity.”

“But these are twins,” Carver said, his gaze still on the weaving pines.

“It means nothing.” She looked from one to the other. “Repeat the process now.”

“We can’t.”

“As I thought. Shields can serve as amplifying chambers for those encased in their force. You spoke, you might even have whispered. The murmur carried.”

“This is a common battle tactic,” Carver said. “Linking shields, passing messages in the din of combat.”

“Now, as to the other issues.” Tatyana counted them on her fingers. “The extension of your awareness. Hunting, you called it. This is a highly defined tactic of those individuals we refer to as Watchers.”

“We had a team of two Watchers in place,” Carver said. “Their report is that Tirian initiated the attack. The female Watcher is both a pro and a friend. She is highly trained. She says there is no question.”

“But it wasn’t him,” Dillon said. “There were four of them.”

“The Watcher says otherwise,” Tatyana replied.

Sean demanded, “What about Dillon turning the flames around?”

“Impossible,” the Counselor declared. “With time and extensive training, perhaps this may be utilized. But at this stage . . .”

“Battle stress can make for some very bizarre experiences,” Carver said.

“You young men have survived by shielding yourselves and your parents,” Tatyana said. “That in and of itself is unheard of for recruits with only a few weeks of training.”

“A few days,” Carver corrected.

“Truly astonishing,” Tatyana said. But already her attention was back on the couple in the motel lobby. “Now I must ask for your assistance. We need to clean this up quickly and quietly. No press, no complaints, no lawyers.”

Sean didn’t want to let it go, but he could tell now was not the time to press their case. “We could go talk with them.”

Tatyana told Carver, “Go with them. We can offer more. Whatever it takes.”

Sean was heading for the motel’s entrance when he saw how Dillon’s head was planted straight down. It took him back to the early days, the hard times when they both first realized things weren’t right in their family. That it wasn’t just how their dad never played with them, or how their mom never laughed, or how the television was used to puncture the home’s silence. Around their seventh year, Dillon took to hiding himself away at home. Whenever he had to be around his parents, he lowered his face so his hair created a veil between him and the world that hurt him.

It twisted Sean’s gut to see his brother respond to Tatyana and Carver that way. People they liked. People they trusted.

It gave Sean the strength to swing back around and say, “We’ve spent our whole lives waiting for this one chance. We figured it would never come. We thought we’d grow up and get fitted for our Armani prison suits and take our place in line. So you need to understand, what you’ve given us is the most important thing ever. But with this attack, no matter what you say or think, you’re wrong.”

They took their time responding, long enough for Dillon to lift his head and give Sean a look that eased the wrench in his gut.

Carver said, “If you can repeat the occurrence, we will talk.”

“The hunt or the chat or the fighting technique?” Dillon asked.

“Any or all of them. Until then, I agree with the Counselor’s assessment. On all counts. Including the culprit we must now track down.”

Tatyana added, “The Examiner has vanished. What innocent person disappears before being questioned?”

“Someone who knows they are being set up,” Sean said.

She sniffed.

“All those things happened. And if Dillon says it wasn’t the Examiner, you better listen.”

“Watchers are trained to see beyond the physical,” Carver replied, his tone both gruff and gentle. “Even if your brother managed to extend himself, which is a senior-level talent, he is not trained to see beyond.”

“He did it,” Sean maintained. “He saw.”

Dillon said, “You’re going after the wrong man.”

Tatyana waved that away. “Enough. We must resolve the crisis with your parents. And then we must determine where you will go for further training.”

“What about Carver?”

“I’ve been assigned to hunt down the Examiner,” Carver said. He smiled at their disappointment. “We can still communicate occasionally, if you like.”

“We like,” Dillon said. “A lot.”

The idea came to Sean with such clarity it was like somebody whispered the idea into his head. “I know where we can go. Send us to the Examiner’s school.”

Dillon gaped at him. “Are you serious?”

“Totally.” He found it easier to focus on his brother. “Look. Carver’s headed off into the wild blue. We’ve got to go somewhere. And they’ve already said they’re not going to check this out.”

“Your job is to learn,” Carver said. “Not play investigator.”

“I’m not aiming to play at anything,” Sean shot back.

Dillon said, “Sign me up.”

Tatyana replied, “Carver and I must discuss this. Go and see if you can convince your parents to accept our offer.”