“Me? Why me?”
Jett perked up, and Simon flashed him that look again. He withered, putting his business face back on. “Because. It’s dark and you can be my eyes. You’re like a human flashlight.”
I would’ve argued, or pretended to be embarrassed, but he wasn’t so far off. They might not know I’d moved things just by concentrating on them—even if it only had been a couple of times—but there were things they did know about. Like that I could see in the dark and hold my breath underwater for what seemed like forever . . . and that I could throw crazy hard. I almost smiled, because that last one was the reason Agent Truman had been wearing a cast the last time I’d seen him.
I might not have liked that I was different from the others, but there were definite advantages.
“So you really think you can disable their security system?” Willow asked.
“Not disable exactly. If we shut it down, then they’ll know there’s a problem and come looking for it.” A sly grin slid over his face. “I was thinking a more subtle approach is in order. Something that makes it so they never see us coming.”
Now that we were here, I tried not to freak the hell out. We were a group of perpetual teens about to break into an undisclosed government facility with state-of-the-art security.
When I thought about it like that, the whole idea sounded half-baked. But instead of losing my shit, I forced myself to stay calm, centered, reminding myself we were no ordinary kids. We were different . . . special.
Me most of all.
My concern must’ve been telegraphed all over my face because Simon’s sympathetic look almost did me in. “You can do this, Kyra. Just . . . breathe.”
I swallowed my doubts as I rubbed my sweaty palms over the tops of my knees, and then nodded again while I kept my eyes trained on his, hoping to soak up some of his confidence.
Jett tapped Simon on the shoulder and handed him a white key card, turning his attention back to the plan, while I thought about what Simon had said about everyone having a weakness. He was right, at least as far as I could tell. We might be able to heal faster than normal people, me more so than the rest of them, but that didn’t mean we were invincible. Not by a long shot. Simon had made it more than clear that these “Daylighters” knew ways to kill us.
“Team Two,” Jett said, his finger dropping to a place in the center of the plans on his computer screen—a place that looked like a large, open space that could be any kind of room. “Once you’re inside, you locate the central lab. That’s your best chance of finding Tyler if they’ve got him.”
Lab. I swallowed a golf ball–sized lump that formed in my throat every time they used that word. It conjured gruesome images that made my stomach pitch. I was sure I didn’t want to know the answer, but it didn’t stop me from asking, “What do you think they’re doing to him in there?”
“Nothing good.” Jett shot me an apologetic look as he snapped his laptop shut, and then his fingers drifted to the spot on his arm again. “We need to be in and out as fast as possible.”
No one said anything more about the lab thing as we piled out of the SUV. We were parked in an ordinary public lot and our vehicle looked like all the rest, blending nicely in a sea of other SUVs, minivans, and sedans. But even so, I hoped there weren’t cameras out here, already keeping an electronic eye on us, because if there were, we were screwed.
“Okay. New plan,” I said as firmly as I could, and before I had the chance to change my mind. “I’m on Team Two now.”
“What? No . . . ,” Jett sputtered, getting out the same door I had, right behind Natty.
But Simon put his hand on Jett’s shoulder to stop him. “Why?” he asked, his copper eyes probing mine.
As far as I was concerned, there was no question. “Because Team Two is going after Tyler. That puts me on Team Two.”
I thought Simon might throw a fit, extolling the dangers of marching into the lion’s den or some other such crap, and I braced myself for it while Thom opened the back hatch and started sorting the gear. Instead, after a few seconds of staring at each other like that, like we were in a silent standoff, Simon just . . . shrugged.
And that was it.
“Okay. So, Jett—I mean, Team One—you take Thom and Natty.” The two teammates in question exchanged a look, and I tried to decide if I could decipher any hidden meaning there, something to tell whether or not there really was something more than just leader and devoted follower between them.
Simon flashed Jett a wry smile. “Sorry, you’ll have to make do with a regular flashlight,” he added. “Willow and me’ll take Kyra. We’ll wait out front ’til we get word that the coast is clear.” Then his eyes dropped to the key card in his hand. “You sure this thing’s gonna work? Those of us on Team Two are counting on you.”
Jett practically beamed back at Simon. “I guess we’re about to find out.”
CHAPTER FIVE
BOOM!
The explosion wasn’t so much a sound, the way I’d always imagined an explosion would be, but more like a vibration. Except that wasn’t exactly right either. It reminded me more of thunder, that deep booming feeling that seemed to center somewhere in my chest or belly and was trying to rumble its way out, jangling my bones and my teeth, and making my skin scream. My eardrums seared like someone had stabbed them all the way through with just-sharpened icepicks.
The whole thing lasted only milliseconds, even though it seemed like forever, especially since so many things went through my head at once, like: Where had the blast come from? Had Jett caused it, or were they in trouble because they’d walked into some dangerous NSA booby trap? What if we were all walking into traps?