erupting earth.
A boulder, twice as big as her head, flew over her shoulder, and Laura sped up, hurtling wildly through the path of an earthquake.
SIXTEEN
“THEY’RE CALLING IT THE FREAK WAR,” Sibley said. Aubrey, Jack, and a few others were sitting on nearby cots, listening as he spoke. “This thing that we’ve got, this disease, it didn’t start in America. They think it started in Russia, maybe, or China. No one’s sure. Before we even knew that we were getting sick, they had already diagnosed it and were training the freaks to fight.”
“They?” Jack said.
“Whoever it is,” Sibley answered. “Nobody knows.” He seemed to enjoy being the center of attention, the only one who knew what was going on. And he probably didn’t know very much—just more than the other teens in the warehouse. Or he could have been making it all up.
“So there’s a whole army of . . . ?” Aubrey started but didn’t know what word described people like her and Matt and Nate.
Sibley shook his head. “No, not an army. There’s not enough of us for that. They’re terrorists.”
Aubrey leaned forward. “What do you mean ‘not enough of us ’?”
He smirked. “I’m not dangerous, so don’t worry. Sitting right here, I can do exactly nothing.”
“What can you do somewhere else?” Aubrey asked, her eyes wide in the dim light of the warehouse.
“I can kill plants,” he said, looking almost embarrassed. “It’s not even a dramatic death. I touch them, and they’ll die over the next couple days. If it’s something big, like a tree, it’ll die in a couple weeks.”
“Wait,” Jack said, looking at Aubrey, concern spreading across his face. “This is a disease?”
Sibley laughed. “Well, it sure as hell isn’t the X-Men. I don’t know how it works, but everyone who has some kind of power—even stupid ones like mine—have a lot of side effects. Ever since I started, I’ve been getting ulcers. And if I get cut, I’ll bleed for weeks.”
Aubrey’s eyes met Jack’s, and she nodded. The fatigue of disappearing was one thing, but the blindness—it scared her to death.
“So, if it’s a disease,” Aubrey said, “then why is everyone different? If we all got a cold then we’d have the same symptoms. Why can you kill plants and someone else can turn into a monster?”
“I’m not a doctor,” Sibley said. “I don’t know. But what about something like schizophrenia? Two people may be schizophrenic, but they don’t have the same hallucinations. They don’t act the same. They just act different from normal people.”
“So what are we doing here?” Jack asked.
Sibley shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He gestured around the room. “Aaron over there is sure that we’re being protected from the war, because he’s an idiot who believes everything he’s told. That girl there with the red hair thinks that the government is going to run tests on us like lab rats. Those two guys with the blond hair think that the Freaks are going to be trained as supersoldiers, but I think they watch too many movies. Maybe we’re going to be locked up—prisoners. Or, maybe they’ll just lobotomize us all.”
Jack took Aubrey’s hand in his. His palm felt rough and dry, but she squeezed it tight and flashed him a weak smile. Somehow, holding his hand made it easier to breathe.
“Are there more?” Jack said. “More like you?”
“You mean here?” Sibley asked. “The test results come in every day. I don’t know why mine haven’t shown up yet. They don’t seem to come in order.” He stood up and walked to the enormous open door. Jack and Aubrey followed him, along with a few others. The chain-link walkway stretched fifty yards to a gate. Four guard towers, two on each side of the path, watched the open space.
“You see that?” Sibley said, pointing. “Your name gets called on a speaker, and you walk down to that door. It unlocks, you go through, and it locks behind you. Then they
A boulder, twice as big as her head, flew over her shoulder, and Laura sped up, hurtling wildly through the path of an earthquake.
SIXTEEN
“THEY’RE CALLING IT THE FREAK WAR,” Sibley said. Aubrey, Jack, and a few others were sitting on nearby cots, listening as he spoke. “This thing that we’ve got, this disease, it didn’t start in America. They think it started in Russia, maybe, or China. No one’s sure. Before we even knew that we were getting sick, they had already diagnosed it and were training the freaks to fight.”
“They?” Jack said.
“Whoever it is,” Sibley answered. “Nobody knows.” He seemed to enjoy being the center of attention, the only one who knew what was going on. And he probably didn’t know very much—just more than the other teens in the warehouse. Or he could have been making it all up.
“So there’s a whole army of . . . ?” Aubrey started but didn’t know what word described people like her and Matt and Nate.
Sibley shook his head. “No, not an army. There’s not enough of us for that. They’re terrorists.”
Aubrey leaned forward. “What do you mean ‘not enough of us ’?”
He smirked. “I’m not dangerous, so don’t worry. Sitting right here, I can do exactly nothing.”
“What can you do somewhere else?” Aubrey asked, her eyes wide in the dim light of the warehouse.
“I can kill plants,” he said, looking almost embarrassed. “It’s not even a dramatic death. I touch them, and they’ll die over the next couple days. If it’s something big, like a tree, it’ll die in a couple weeks.”
“Wait,” Jack said, looking at Aubrey, concern spreading across his face. “This is a disease?”
Sibley laughed. “Well, it sure as hell isn’t the X-Men. I don’t know how it works, but everyone who has some kind of power—even stupid ones like mine—have a lot of side effects. Ever since I started, I’ve been getting ulcers. And if I get cut, I’ll bleed for weeks.”
Aubrey’s eyes met Jack’s, and she nodded. The fatigue of disappearing was one thing, but the blindness—it scared her to death.
“So, if it’s a disease,” Aubrey said, “then why is everyone different? If we all got a cold then we’d have the same symptoms. Why can you kill plants and someone else can turn into a monster?”
“I’m not a doctor,” Sibley said. “I don’t know. But what about something like schizophrenia? Two people may be schizophrenic, but they don’t have the same hallucinations. They don’t act the same. They just act different from normal people.”
“So what are we doing here?” Jack asked.
Sibley shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He gestured around the room. “Aaron over there is sure that we’re being protected from the war, because he’s an idiot who believes everything he’s told. That girl there with the red hair thinks that the government is going to run tests on us like lab rats. Those two guys with the blond hair think that the Freaks are going to be trained as supersoldiers, but I think they watch too many movies. Maybe we’re going to be locked up—prisoners. Or, maybe they’ll just lobotomize us all.”
Jack took Aubrey’s hand in his. His palm felt rough and dry, but she squeezed it tight and flashed him a weak smile. Somehow, holding his hand made it easier to breathe.
“Are there more?” Jack said. “More like you?”
“You mean here?” Sibley asked. “The test results come in every day. I don’t know why mine haven’t shown up yet. They don’t seem to come in order.” He stood up and walked to the enormous open door. Jack and Aubrey followed him, along with a few others. The chain-link walkway stretched fifty yards to a gate. Four guard towers, two on each side of the path, watched the open space.
“You see that?” Sibley said, pointing. “Your name gets called on a speaker, and you walk down to that door. It unlocks, you go through, and it locks behind you. Then they
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