“Can you get us in?”
In answer, he slammed his left shoulder into the door, and it popped like a champagne cork. “They’ll never know it wasn’t quake related.”
Inside, it was beautifully cool and dim. A white and blue ceramic floor—some tiles now had cracks in them—led to a simple sitting room. This was a tiny vacation cottage, where the attraction lay in the landscape, the ocean, and the wildlife. Admittedly, it was gorgeous with spectacular sunsets, crystal clear water, unspoiled beaches, and the prospect of endless solitude. One didn’t come here for the luxurious accommodations, Juneau reflected. Still, she could tell the place had been built well, or it wouldn’t be standing. Simple worked when it came with running water.
“God bless the ecotourist,” she said on a happy sigh. “Dibs on first shower.”
“Go ahead. I’ll get the generator running, if there’s any fuel.”
It stood to reason there would be. This was probably a latchkey place with an absentee owner who took bookings online. There might even be some food in the cupboards. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? The few stale, crushed pastries and cans of soup they’d found in Salango would only go so far.
Juneau went down the hall and into the bathroom. God, it would be good to feel human again; she wouldn’t think of children who had no more birthdays coming or coworkers’ families who were praying to hear good news. One minute at a time, he’d said. Well, she could do that. In fact, she excelled at it. It was the longer stretches that gave her trouble.
SIX
A ping made Mockingbird turn to check it. So Silas was in Ecuador. He wondered if the Foundation tracked in the same way he did. Wait, they couldn’t. They might have Kestrel now, but they lacked his unique talent. He studied the picture of the fugitive, working with the Red Cross in the aftermath of the quake. Disaster relief, who would have guessed?
He needed to get an agent to Ecuador. Warn Silas not to use his ability, if he had one. If only I hadn’t lost Finch in Guatemala—but no use lamenting the irrevocable. If Finch wasn’t dead, he’d soon be working for the enemy. They needed to find Olivia Swift, like, yesterday. Her ability to fight covert battles while their adversaries slept would prove invaluable.
But that was a pipe dream. He had no idea where she was; she’d gone ghost. Then it occurred to him: Maybe she wipes our memories in our dreams. Maybe he’d found her. At that, he prowled through all his files, but there was nothing. Could she convince me to get up in my sleep and erase the records? A cold chill went through him. If she was unbalanced, there was no telling what she might be doing out there.
Anyway, he had no proof that was the case or that she knew anything about him or his efforts to find her. Sitting in this room, surrounded by humming electronics, was making him paranoid. Better to focus on the mission.
Tanager was in Florida. She could hop a plane to Ecuador, but getting to Puerto López, where Silas had last been sighted, would be tricky. Fortunately, Tan specialized in persuading people to do impossible things. That made her a natural for this job.
She hated carrying a laptop, so he used the phone straightaway, engaging the voice scrambler. “Tan, I have a job for you.”
“I’m on vacation.” It was a halfhearted protest, and they both knew it.
“Maybe I should call someone else. It’s bound to be dangerous.”
“Now I’m interested.”
He’d known she would be. “We have a possible recruit trapped in Ecuador.”
“What’s his X?”
In his opinion, Tanager had read too many X-men comics in her youth. “Uncertain. If he has an ability, he managed to keep it out of the Foundation records.”
“So he could easily be a zero.”
That was what they called failure to evolve, the term used by the lab geeks to describe all the corpses their experiments left behind and all the human detritus that wound up with tumors, lesions, and shattering mental illness. Zeros. Rage boiled through him.
“I think it’s a risk we should take, in case he’s viable. But if you don’t think you can handle it—”
“No, I can,” Tanager said. “Did you get my tickets?”
“You’re going first class to Quito, but you’ll be on your own from there. There’s nothing I can hack that far off the grid.”
“It’s not a problem. I’ll find and warn him. Am I recruiting?”
“I’ll leave that up to you. Do so if you think it’s safe and he’ll be valuable.”
“I live to thwart the Foundation. Over and out.”
He knew she did, and that was only a small portion of Tanager’s problems.
SEVEN
Getting the generator running didn’t take long. Silas dreaded going back inside because sooner or later, she was going to ask. She’d seen what he could do, so there was no way she’d accept silence on the subject. He could put it off long enough to shower, but there would be a reckoning.
The agony in his right arm had dulled to a low throb. Apart from general human empathy and not wanting to cause harm, the resonant pain he suffered in using his ability offered strong deterrent. He could count the times he’d done so on one hand. And no matter the torment or provocation, he’d never shown the Foundation what he could do. Eventually, his handlers had stamped his file with a big red FAIL and put him to work. That was the only accomplishment he could take pride in for the last five years.
And now, now his secret was out.
“Bathroom’s free,” she called.
But when he passed the sitting room, he saw she wasn’t dressed. Well, not exactly. She’d fashioned a makeshift toga from a bed-sheet. He tried not to stare, but she had amazing skin, all smooth and golden, and it didn’t look like she had any paler strips. Which meant—
No way. You can’t start picturing that. She’s already half a step from being terrified.
“You washed your clothes?”
She nodded. “There’s a line out back, I’d guess for wet beach things.”
He couldn’t believe she was so casual with him, after what she’d seen. But when he studied her more closely, he glimpsed tension in the line of her shoulders and a hint of fear in how she clutched the white fabric. Like he might use his mind to tear it off her.
And no wonder, he thought bitterly. It’s too bad it doesn’t because that might have a useful application. But his so-called gift didn’t work that way. He had dominion over the human body—over skin and bone—and the blood in between. It was the grimmest, darkest thing imaginable, and he had to control it. Fortunately, he’d learned to leash his anger long before this curse manifested . . . because he’d come into his full growth young.