Leaping by J Bennett Page B

“But
not close enough.”
    ***
    Tarren allows us exactly seven
minutes and twenty-six seconds in the motel room before he suggests leaving.
Okay, not “suggests,” because when Tarren makes a suggestion, it’s always just
an order wrapped in a pretty bow.
    Rain’s left leg is encased from ankle
to hip joint in a plaster cast wrapped in paw-print bandages. He’s hilariously
loopy, telling us that scientists should build little mechanical legs for
snakes so they can walk and that he thinks penguins might actually be able to
talk but just choose not to. I’ve laid him out on a springy queen bed below an
impressive black and white framed photo of an old train. Each wall in the room
holds a similar old-timey picture. A photo next to the door features a woman holding
a parasol over her head. She wears a dress with buttons up to her throat. I
catch a whiff of mildew in the room and wonder if anyone else can smell it, or
if it’s just another pleasant gift of my enhanced senses.
    “We should go to the lab” Tarren
says. “Lab,” is the code word for Lo’s mansion in Las Vegas. I guess since
Francesca and Dr. Lee are in the room we’re back to using our system of code
words to protect our sources. I decide not to mention the fact that Lo drove
down to Dr. Lee’s cabin when Gabe was in the coma. Mixing allies is a big
“no-no” in Diana’s rulebook, but at the time I couldn’t have cared less.
    Gabe and I exchange expressions. I
don’t despise Lo the way he does, but every trip to Lo’s mansion means I have
to reprise my role as their unenthusiastic lab rat. I’m pretty sure Lo spends
the time between our visits thinking up creative new ways to poke, prod, and
humiliate me.
    Gabe is still convinced that Tarren
is working on a cure for angeldom, something that will change me – all of us – back
into full humans. I’ve never let myself even open that door of hope. But
Tarren did create the Prism, I remind myself. My hands throb, just thinking
of the powerful beam of sunlight the curved mirrors can generate on a sunny
day. The heavy black backpack in the back of the jeep has changed my life over
the last seven months. It has given me strength and clarity. If not complete
freedom from the hunger, it’s at least lengthened my leash enough that I don’t
constantly despair about giving in and hurting someone I love.
    “I’d like to stay here a little
longer. At least until Bear arrives,” I say and try to find that same ‘not
really asking’ tone that seems built into Tarren’s voice box. “You and Gabe can
go ahead.”
    “I should wait for Bear too,” Gabe
says immediately. “We need to strategize. You know, make sure we aren’t
pursuing the same leads, exchange intel, really important stuff.” He sounds so
natural, so earnest that if I didn’t know him down to his very Gabe core, I
might almost believe that he wasn’t completely bullshitting.
    Tarren also knows his brother well,
but he doesn’t call Gabe out on the lie. He looks between us, and I know he’d
like to break out his disappointed expression and say wearied team leader things
about how we’re a family and have to stick together, but he won’t show division
in front of Dr. Lee and Francesca. He merely nods, his blue eyes hooded from
emotion.
    “I’ll go ahead. I want you both on
the road in twenty-four hours,” he says.
    Tarren looks tired. The scruff is
darker and thicker along his jaw, almost covering the long, white scar. He
needs to stay here with us and catch a few hours of sleep. We could rent a
second room, so he’d feel more comfortable. I open my mouth. Gabe clears his
throat and gives a tiny shake of his head.
    I guess he knows me to my very Maya
core too.
    “Guys, guys, guys,” Rain says into
the awkward silence. “That leprechaun on the cereal box, I don’t trust him.
I’ma…not sayin’ he’s guilty of anything. But really, I don’t think he should be
around children. Just to be safe. You guys feel like that