Gone

Sam. We were born just three minutes apart.”
    Sam felt a tingle go up his spine.
    “Three minutes,” Caine said, moving closer. “You go first. And then me.”
    “No,” Sam said. “It can’t be.”
    “It can,” Caine said. “It is. And you are…brother.”
    The door burst open. Drake Merwin barreled into the room. He was looking for something. “Is she here?”
    “Who?” Diana demanded.
    “Who do you think? The blonde and her retard brother.”
    “You let her get away?” Caine demanded, forgetting Sam for the moment.
    “I didn’t let her get away. They were in the room with me. The girl was pissing me off so I smacked her. Then they disappeared. Gone.”
    Caine shot a murderous look at Diana. Diana said, “No.She was months away from turning fifteen. And, anyway, her little brother is four.”
    “Then how?” Caine furrowed his brow. “Can it be the power?”
    Diana shook her head. “I read Astrid again on the way here. She’s barely at two bars. No way. Two people teleporting?”
    The color drained from Caine’s face. “The retard?”
    “He’s autistic, he’s like in his own world,” Diana protested.
    “Did you read him?”
    “He’s a little autistic kid, why would I read him?”
    Caine turned to Sam. “What do you know about this?” He raised his hand, a threat. His face inches from Sam’s, he screamed, “What do you know?”
    “Well. I know that I enjoy seeing you scared, Caine.”
    The invisible fist sent Sam sprawling on his back.
    Diana, for the first time, looked worried. Her usual smirk was gone. “The only time we saw teleporting was Taylor up at Coates. And she could only go across a room. She was a three. If this kid can teleport himself and his sister through walls…”
    “He could be a four,” Caine said softly.
    “Yes,” Diana said. “He could be a four.” When she said the word “four,” she looked straight at Sam. “He could be even more.”
    Caine said, “Orc, Howard: lock Sam up, tie him down so he can’t get that Mylar off his hands, then get Freddie to help you. He’s done plastering before, he knows what to do. Get whatever you need from the hardware store.” He grabbedDrake by the shoulder. “Find Astrid and that kid.”
    “How am I going to catch them if they can just zap out whenever they want?”
    “I didn’t say catch them,” Caine said. “Take a gun, Drake. Shoot them both before they see you.”
    Sam charged at Caine and plowed into him before he could react. The momentum carried them both to the floor. Sam headbutted Caine in the nose. Caine was slow to recover, but Drake and Orc swarmed over Sam and kicked him off Caine.
    Sam groaned in pain. “You can’t kill people, Caine. Are you crazy?”
    “You hurt my nose,” Caine said.
    “You’re screwed up, Caine. You need help. You’re insane.”
    “Yeah,” Caine said, touching his nose and wincing at the pain. “That’s what they keep telling me. It’s what Nurse Temple…Mom…told me. Just be glad I need to keep you around, Sam. I need to see you blink out, figure out how to keep it from happening to me. Orc, take this hero away. Drake: go.”
    “If you hurt them, Drake, I’ll hunt you down and kill you,” Sam shouted.
    “Don’t waste your breath,” Diana said to him. “You don’t know Drake. Your girlfriend’s as good as dead.”

TWENTY-TWO
    128 HOURS , 32 MINUTES
    ASTRID WANTED TO scream at Drake and Diana, to denounce them, to demand to know what kind of worthless human beings used the FAYZ as an excuse for violence.
    But she had to keep Little Pete calm. That was her top priority, her brother. Her blank-faced, helpless, unloving brother.
    She resented him. He had turned her into a mother at age fourteen. It wasn’t right. This should be her time to shine, to be bold. This was her time to use her intellect, that supposedly great gift. Instead, she was a babysitter.
    Astrid and Little Pete were shown, with mock courtesy, into a classroom. It wasn’t one of Astrid’s classes but might as well have been. Everything was achingly familiar: books open on desks, walls festooned with student artwork and projects.
    “Have a seat. Read a book, if you want,” Diana said. “I know you like that kind of thing.”
    Astrid hefted one of the books. “Yes, fourth-grade math. I love that kind of thing.”
    “You know, I really dislike you,” Diana said.
    Drake leaned against a wall and smirked.
    “Of course you dislike me,” Astrid said. “I make you feel