Matt climbed out of the Suburban and glanced around to make sure no one was looking. The rear passenger window lowered and a hand reached out. He clasped palms with Manny.
“Good luck, man,” Manny told him.
“Thanks.”
Shay leaned across Manny and said, “Remember, keep it simple. You don’t know anything except that you were held captive for several days.”
Matt grinned. “I think I can handle that.” If anyone could tell a convincing lie it was Matt. Having the ability to hear what people were thinking let him know the effect his words were having on the person he was talking to. If they weren’t buying what he was saying he could adjust his story to make it whatever they wanted to hear.
“By the way,” Matt said to Manny, “how’s the shoulder?”
Manny rotated his arm and grinned. “Like new.”
During their brief ride after escaping from the warehouse, Tom had used his ability to heal Manny’s injuries. It had been Shay’s idea. She remembered how Reed had been able to share his ability with James to help him find the gas tank that was feeding the flamethrowers in the Arena. She reasoned that Tom might be able to share his ability as well. While Reed maneuvered the SUV through the narrow streets, looking for a quiet place to park, Tom had grabbed Manny’s arm and concentrated. They all watched as Manny’s wounds slowly closed, tissues growing and weaving together. In the space of a few minutes the last traces of his injuries had faded completely.
With Manny’s wounds healed, the only thing they had to explain was Matt’s absence. James was going to tell his parents that he had spent the last couple of nights at Tom’s house. Paige and Magda would spend the night at Amanda’s then return to their own homes at the end of the day. The bad guys had already taken care of the girls’ explanations by texting their parents that they were staying at each other’s house for a few nights. Everyone else was going to sneak back into their homes and give a variation on the story: “Sorry I didn’t call. I came in after you were in bed.”
Some of them were probably going to catch attitude from their parents, but none of them expected to have a real problem. They were a good group of kids who stayed away from trouble. Their parents trusted them. And things had been changing for them at home. It was kind of weird but their parents had actually started giving them more freedom as the end of senior year approached. It was like they were finally taking the training wheels off.
While that cover story would work for everyone else, Matt had been missing for a week. The FBI was looking for him. That was going to take a bit more explaining. The group had been unanimous in their decision to keep quiet about what had really happened to them. None of them wanted to lie to their parents but they each felt very strongly that it was safest, at least for now, not to say anything to anyone. After a few minutes of brainstorming they had come up with a simple plan to explain what had happened to Matt: tell the truth, or at least as much of the truth as they could. Matt had been surprised and kidnapped in front of his house. He had been kept tied up for a number of days. This morning, he woke up to the smell of smoke. He managed to get free, found himself inside a warehouse, and got out shortly before the building exploded. He’d been wandering the area ever since.
It was a bizarre story, but essentially it was true. Of course he wasn’t going to mention that the actual room he had been held prisoner in was two hundred feet underground. It was going to be up to the police to dig below the surface for those details, in this case literally.
Along with explaining Matt’s absence, his story would also give law enforcement officials a reason to look carefully at the building and its owners. If they found the underground base, someone somewhere was going to have a lot of explaining to do. At the very least they wouldn’t be able to use it to continue Dr. Brooks’s experiments.
Matt looked up as they heard a new set of sirens racing through the street a block over. The first of the emergency vehicles had begun arriving soon after the original explosion with more following every few minutes. Judging from the thick column of smoke rising into the air there must be a huge fire burning at the site.
“You guys better get going,” Matt said. “It’ll be time to get up for school soon.”
Everyone burst out laughing. For some reason that stupid little line was suddenly very funny. When they got their breaths back Matt stepped away from the Suburban and it pulled off. He stood watching the car drive away until it disappeared around a corner. When it was out of sight, Matt started walking in the direction of the fire.
The warehouse, or what was left of it, was several blocks away. As he approached the scene Matt saw a cluster of emergency vehicles including police cars, fire trucks and ambulances filling the street in front of the location. The firefighters already had two hoses pouring water onto the flames and another group was racing to set up a third line. So far their efforts were having little effect. Where the warehouse had once stood he could see nothing but flames and dense smoke.
In spite of the early hour a small group of onlookers had gathered to one side. The police hadn’t set up yellow tape to keep people back but a couple of officers were standing with the onlookers half a block away. The heat and smoke were so intense that everyone was standing well back from the blaze.
Matt started to head toward the officers when another car arrived at the scene. A man and a woman got out. They were both wearing blue windbreakers with the letters FBI printed on their backs in big letters. The man went over to the police, flashed his ID and began talking with the officers. Although his jacket said FBI, his bearing and haircut reminded Matt more of the military. When he touched the man’s mind he heard him churning over a series of standard questions that he needed to get answers to. Matt also kept hearing him repeat a word that he wasn’t familiar with: fubar. While he didn’t know what it meant exactly, he got the distinct impression that it wasn’t something good.
As Matt continued to listen to the man’s thoughts, he learned that the FBI agents had responded to the scene because of the report of an explosion. Although the man thought that the cause of this explosion would probably turn out to be nothing more than a faulty gas line, the agents had responded to the scene in case it turned out to be something more sinister.
While the male agent spoke to the police officers, his partner stood beside their car gazing into the fire with her hands on her hips. She had her back to Matt so all he could tell about her was that she was about his height and had light brown hair. When he focused his attention on her she turned slightly, allowing him a glimpse of her profile. She was cute. That was all he needed to make him decide that she was the person he wanted to talk to.
“Um, excuse me, ma’am,” he said as he walked up to her.
The woman turned to look at him and he was surprised to see that she was older than he had first thought. She might even have been as old as thirty, but still pretty hot for her age.
She smiled at him. “Can I help you?”
“Um, I don’t know. I mean, well, I need to call my parents. I’ve been gone for a long time and they don’t know where I am.” He paused and glanced around. “Actually, I don’t know where I am either.”
The woman stared at him for several moments, then recognition showed on her face.
“Wait a minute, you’re that teenager who went missing last week. Matthew—”
“DeLuca,” Matt said.
The woman looked him up and down, her professional eye sizing him up at a glance. His hair and clothes were disheveled, he hadn’t bathed in a while, and the dark circles under his eyes spoke volumes, but it was definitely him. And he was alive!
As Matt listened to her thoughts he decided let himself seem even more tired than he was. She expected him to be in a weakened state.
He grabbed his head with one hand and swayed slightly. As he hoped, the woman immediately rushed up to him and slipped an arm around his waist. He suppressed a smile as she led him toward the nearest ambulance, enjoying the feeling of her arm around him.
“Steve!” she said, calling her partner.
A few moments later Matt was sitting on the rear bumper of the ambulance as the EMT took his vitals. While the medic worked on him, the two FBI agents had a lot of questions for him.
The woman’s name was Callie Peron and her partner was Steve Bale. Matt recognized the names immediately. These were the same FBI agents Magda had told him about during one of the few private moments they had shared after she and Paige were captured. As Matt listened to her thoughts, he learned that Agent Peron was what they called the case agent. She was the one in charge of the serial killer case and was anxious to learn how he had managed to escape with his life. He realized that he couldn’t have planned it better himself.
Matt told the story just like they had rehearsed. While he spoke he didn’t register any reaction from either Agent Peron or her partner. They both simply took down the information in a detached, professional manner. As he was finishing his story, one of the police officers came over and pulled Agent Bale aside. While her partner spoke to the officer, Agent Peron looked over her notes.
As she reviewed what she’d written, Matt sensed that something was troubling her. She went back to the beginning of his story and started asking for details. Fortunately, the way they had crafted the story left few details for him to have to come up with. He told her that he never saw who kidnapped him (which was true), and that he had been blindfolded while he was being held prisoner so he never saw the man’s face. His description of the warehouse was as accurate as he could be since there was no need to lie about that. As for the fire and explosion, he told her he had no idea.
After he had answered her questions, Matt waited as Agent Peron went over her notes for a third time. Everything fit but she was still troubled. The biggest question on her mind was: why? Why was he still alive? Serial killers did not change their methods. The other victims had all been killed within hours of being kidnapped, their eyes removed and their bodies dumped before a full day had passed. They should have found this poor kid on the side of a road several days ago. While she was happy that they would be able to give this boy’s parents good news, she was at a loss to explain his situation. Was the person who kidnapped Matt the same person who had murdered those other kids? Everything about the abduction itself seemed to match. But unlike those other cases, Matt had been kept alive. Was his abduction unrelated to the others, or had something caused the killer to change his usual behavior? Then another thought occurred to her. There was something odd about the kid’s manner—could he be lying about something?
Matt had to force himself not to react as he eavesdropped on her thoughts. She wasn’t supposed to have any doubts about his story. What he had told her was the truth—more or less. And he needed her to believe him so that they would go over the burned out building with a fine-tooth comb.
As if she were reading his mind, Agent Peron’s thoughts turned to the warehouse. Whatever had happened, she thought, they needed to take a good look at that building. This case was already bizarre enough. High school kids were being abducted right off the street, murdered and mutilated, and the bureau was no closer to solving it than when the abductions began. This was the first break they’d gotten since the killer had first struck. They needed to meticulously scour the scene to find any bit of evidence that might survive the fire. Sooner or later every criminal made a mistake and left some key bit of evidence behind. It was up to the investigating agents to find that evidence and recognize it for what it was.
Even though the serial murderer was technically Agent Peron’s case, everyone in the office knew about it. The bureau had grown into the agency it was today due in large part to the Lindbergh kidnapping in 1932, and kidnappings were still something that struck a nerve within the agency. Whether they were part of the violent crimes squad or not, everyone in the field office wanted to be in on the operation when they finally caught up with this sick-o.
Her thoughts shifted gear again, coming full circle back to Matt. The kid had to be tired, Agent Peron was thinking. A hot bath, a decent meal, and a good night’s sleep: that’s what she figured he needed. She put her note pad away. No need to keep pushing him now. She had the basic facts.
Matt broke contact then. He had learned what he wanted to know. He’d also learned over the years not to listen to other people’s thoughts if he didn’t need to. People had a right to privacy inside their own heads.
Now that Agent Peron had finished asking him questions, the EMT helped Matt all the way into the ambulance and stretched him out on the gurney. Although he wanted to go home, Agent Peron had already told him that they couldn’t release him to his parent’s until he had been cleared by the hospital. As the technician busied about attaching monitor leads to various points on his body he closed his eyes and relaxed. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until that moment. Actually, the gurney was a lot more comfortable than he thought it would be. A quick nap might actually be a good idea…
He was asleep within moments.