Rebel Page 3

  "Holy shit!" Ed yelled.

  Before the image could even fully register in Mary's mind, she saw Gaia in midair: jumping over the fence onto the sidewalk--wearing nothing but her hat. Mary's jaw fell open. She heard Ed gasp as she stood gaping at the pale, muscular frame and the wild mane of blond hair trailing behind it.

  Without pausing to look for any oncoming traffic, Gaia sprinted across the street to the window, knocked on it, and jumped up and down a few times.

  Every single guy at that table looked like he had just been slapped.

  "Awesome!" Ed yelled. He clapped and clasped his stomach, laughing hysterically.

  In spite of her shock and mild horror, Mary found she was smiling, too. So were the guys at the table. Then they started clapping. It figured. But Gaia had

  already beat a hasty retreat back behind the bushes. The whole trip had taken no more than ten seconds.

  Damn, that girl was impressive. There was nothing Gaia Moore wouldn't do. Absolutely nothing.

  Mary sighed. She glanced around to make sure there were no cops in sight. It was probably a good idea to get out of here. Maybe they should head uptown. Yeah. To Mary's neighborhood. The Upper East Side. The land of the rich and famous. There was plenty of havoc to wreak up there--

  Oh my God.

  Mary's heart jumped. In an instant she forgot all about Gaia.

  Skizz.

  He was here. In the park. Among the chess gawkers. The long, grayish brown beard was unmistakable. His head was down and his gaze fixed to one of the tables ...but she could still see that tangled mop of hair, those beady brown eyes.

  "Mary?" Ed asked. The voice seemed to float to her from another universe. "Are you all right?"

  "I ...I ..." She shook her head. Her feet were stuck to the pavement. She couldn't move. Did Skizz know she was here? Had he been spying on her? He could have been following her this whole time, waiting to make a move--

  Something brushed her back. She flinched.

  "Whoa," Ed murmured. He raised his hands. "Sorry. I just wanted to see what you were looking at." He moved closer to Mary in an effort to follow her line of sight. "What is it?"

  Finally she willed herself to take a few steps back. "We--uh, we gotta get out of here," she stammered. "It's not ...it's not ..."

  "It's not what?" he whispered.

  "Safe," she croaked.

  Ed cleared his throat. "Um, Mary? You're starting to freak me out a little. Did a cop see Gaia?"

  Mary couldn't answer. She could only stare at the beard and that fat, foul stomach.

  A moment later Gaia ducked back out from behind the bushes--flushed and slightly disheveled. Her coat was unbuttoned, and her shoes were unlaced. She raised her hand in triumph, then paused.

  "What's going on?" she asked.

  "We gotta split," Mary found herself answering.

  "What do you mean?" Gaia asked, glancing back toward the park.

  Mary swallowed. It was getting dark. The sun had already sunk below the horizon. Twilight was settling over the park. Her eyes remained pinned on Skizz.

  "Mary?" Gaia's voice grew urgent. "Do you recognize somebody over by the chess tables?"

  "I ..."

  Skizz lifted his gaze.

  He looked directly at Mary. For a terrible instant her body stiffened--petrified in the freezing December air. I'm dead, she realized.

  As if reading her mind, he smiled and lifted his hand.

  Then he drew his forefinger across his throat, very slowly.

  "No," she whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut, half convinced that this was some terrible hallucination, some all too vivid nightmare.

  Mary forced herself to open her eyes again. She blinked a few times. What the--

  He was gone. Just like that. Vanished. Somehow that was even more terrifying than if he had hung around. Her gaze darted from face to face among the group at the chess tables, then up and down the various paths. She caught a glimpse of a hunched figure who might have been him, scurrying up toward Fifth Avenue ... but she couldn't be sure. Jesus. Pent-up air flowed from her lungs. Her shoulders sagged.

  "Can you please tell us what's going on?" Ed demanded.

  Mary leaned on the back of his wheelchair for support. Her knees were wobbly. "It's nothing," she whispered. "I'm sorry. He ... uh, he's not there anymore." She couldn't keep from shivering.

  "Who?" Ed asked impatiently.

  Mary glanced at Gaia. Had she seen?

  There was no reason to dig up the past. They were having so much fun. There was no reason for Ed and Gaia to know that she was paranoid about drugcrazed stalkers from coke deals gone bad.

  Gaia chewed her lip for a moment. Her blond hair flapped in the bitter wind.

  "Are you sure you're okay?" she said finally. She flashed Mary a quick smile. "Do you want to get out of here?"

  And at that moment Mary realized something that she never had before: Having a friend meant being able to communicate without having to speak a word.

  "RIDING THE SUBWAY AT NIGHT IS DANGEROUS."

  Miraculous Zit-related Promises

  It was one of those myths about New York City that Gaia had never understood. Like the one about how all New Yorkers talked with a ridiculous accent, like mobsters. Almost all of those myths were lies. She could hardly think of a safer place than the Uptown East Side number 6 local train. For one

  thing, there was plenty of light. The glare of those harsh fluorescent lights was practically blinding. And the subways were always somewhat crowded, no matter what the hour. They were also crawling with cops.

  On the other hand, some lunatic could shove you onto the tracks or a pickpocket could snatch your wallet. And the cops were mostly slobs--stuffed to the gills with doughnuts and coffee. A lot could go wrong if a person was unprepared. Maybe it wasn't so much that the subways were dangerous. Maybe it was just that they were a playground of the unexpected.

  That was why Gaia loved them so much.

  "Do you think Ed's pissed at me?" Mary asked over the rhythmic roar of the train wheels.

  Gaia shook her head, leaning back in the plastic seat. The only drag about the subway was that it was impossible to get comfortable. She inevitably found herself getting mushed next to somebody with terminal BO. And her butt always went to sleep. But at least the car was relatively empty.

  "Why would he be pissed?" Gaia asked.

  "Because I want to go uptown. And, you know ..." She didn't finish.

  Yes, Gaia knew. Mary felt guilty because going uptown meant ditching Ed. It was nearly impossible for guy in a wheelchair to ride the train.

  "Believe me, Ed is psyched we left him behind,"

  Gaia said. "He was looking for an excuse to go home. I think he's had about enough of truth or dare. He probably would have been bummed if we'd taken a bus or a cab because that would have meant he had to come with us."

  "Maybe." But Mary didn't look so sure. She sighed, gazing up at one of the glowing, plastic-encased advertisements above the seats facing theirs. Call Doctor Fitz Right Now! His Miraculous Laser Surgery Will Rid You of Acne Forever!

  "What's wrong?" Gaia asked.

  "Nothing." Mary shrugged. She seemed to be shaking off an unpleasant thought. "Uh, it's just ... I've been spending a lot of time with Ed lately, you know? And he and I used to be friends. Not best friends, but on and off since we were kids." She paused. "Before the accident. It's just weird."

  Gaia nodded. Something about Mary's tone struck a strange chord inside her. Had there been some history between her and Ed?

  "I mean, we didn't go out or anything," Mary added quickly, answering Gaia's unspoken question. "But we hung out a lot. The thing is, I never feel comfortable around him anymore. And it's all because of that stupid-ass wheelchair. And I know it's ridiculous. It's all in my head. He's still the same person--"

  "Don't worry," Gaia soothed. "That kind of thing is natural."

  Mary sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right," she mumbled. "I just wish I had the
freaking guts to tell him exactly what was on my mind...."

  Gaia kept nodding, but Mary's words floated past her. She was overcome by a sudden and shocking thought: I feel normal. Yes. It was incredible. Here she was, talking to a girl--a friend, no less--about another friend. Listening. Offering comfort and advice. The way a normal kid would do. Her. Gaia Moore. The freak of nature.

  When was the last time she had comforted or advised anyone?

  Her throat tightened. For a second she was worried she might burst into tears. Jesus. She had to get a grip on herself. This was not a big deal. Most people had these kinds of conversations every single day of their lives. But the worst problem with her inability to feel fear was that certain other feelings became exaggerated--probably as some kind of perverse compensation. And in this instance it was gooey sentimentality.

  "...boring you to death, aren't I?" Mary was asking.

  "Huh?" Gaia shook her head and forced a smile. "No. Sorry. I was just zoning out."

  "Well, I'm bored to death," Mary said. She raised her eyebrows. "Besides, aren't we forgetting something?"

  The train began to slow down.

  "What's that?" Gaia asked.

  "The game, dummy. It's still your turn, right? Why--"

  "Seventy-seventh Street!" a voice blared over the loudspeakers.

  An impish smile spread across Mary's face. "This is our stop," she said. Suddenly she pointed at Dr. Fitz's miraculous zit-related promises. "I dare you to steal that poster."

  The wheels screeched loudly.

  Gaia laughed. No way. Mary had to be kidding. It would be impossible to pry that poster from its frame and still exit the train in time. Besides, getting that poster would mean flexing her muscles, which would mean revealing her very abnormal strength to a bunch of strangers--which she hated about as much as she hated being in the presence of Heather Gannis. On the other hand, she always did like a challenge....

  Impatient-looking commuters gathered by the doors.

  "It's now or never," Mary taunted, hopping up from her seat.

  The train lurched to a halt.

  Gaia's eyes darted around the car. She could do this. She was smiling now, too--smiling in a pulsating, euphoric state of readiness. So Mary thought she could get the best of her, huh? Fat chance.

  Her limbs tensed.

  Amazing how a simple dare could turn a normal subway exit into a potentially dangerous offense. She had about five seconds. There was only one way to do it....

  The doors hissed open.

  Before her thoughts were even fully formed, she sprang from her seat and grabbed one of the subway poles, using the momentum to deliver a lightning-fast jump kick. Her leg lashed upward in a blur. The people at the door gasped. The tip of her sneaker struck the plastic with such force and precision that the entire plate instantly shattered.

  Whoops.

  Senseless vandalism wasn't exactly something Gaia approved of, but this Doctor Fitz sounded like a rip-off artist. Definitely. No way some quack could rid a person of acne forever. She was performing a public service by destroying his false advertising. Well, maybe not. But it was too late to second-guess herself. As she landed, she swiped the crumpled poster from its broken frame--tearing it in half in the process.

  Whoops again.

  Whatever. Half the poster was good enough. She caught a glimpse of Mary's mile-wide grin. Why wasn't she running? This was no time for horsing around--

  "Hey!" a gruff male voice barked. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

  Speak of the devil. A pudgy cop with powdered sugar stains on his blue uniform was at the opposite end of the car. Gaia hadn't even noticed him. But he posed no problem. She was already using the remaining force of her movement to propel her out the door. With her free hand she grabbed Mary's coat sleeve and yanked her out on the platform.

  "Freeze!" the cop cried. His face reddened. "You two girls! Don't move--"

  The doors slid shut, silencing him.

  He was still yelling and gesturing frantically--but Gaia knew there was nothing he could do. The train was pulling from the station. The piercing shriek of the wheels drowned out any other noise. Watching him was like watching a movie with the sound off.

  Within seconds he was gone.

  "Wow, Gaia!" Mary cried breathlessly. She started cracking up. "Damn! That ruled!"

  Gaia shook her head. She laughed, too--but she wasn't quite sure how she felt. She glanced around the station. Several onlookers were glaring at them. Bad sign. Time to haul ass out of here before one of them called another cop. She didn't exactly feel like spending the night in a jail cell. Or explaining to George and Ella why she had been arrested ...

  "Come on," she whispered, tugging Mary toward

  the exit. She broke into a jog. Mary scrambled after her. Their shoes clattered on the concrete. "We gotta split."

  "I think that was the coolest thing I've ever seen," Mary gasped.

  The coolest? That wasn't the word Gaia would have used. Silliest was more like it. Or dumbest. But as the two of them hurtled through the turnstiles and dashed upstairs into the wintry Manhattan night, she had to admit something.

  The thrill of being bad was undeniable.

  She laughed again despite herself. That had been a lot of fun. More fun than she would have expected. Best of all, her real life--the one filled with loneliness and rejection and uncertainty--seemed very, very far away.

  THE MOSS GIRL WAS A DANGER.

  Product Improvement

  Loki knew that now. Her danger lay in her stupidity. And apparently, judging from Gaia's latest stunt, that stupidity was contagious.

  He scowled as he stood on the corner of Seventy-seventh Street and Lexington Avenue, watching Gaia and her new friend vanish into a mob of pedestrians. This behavior was unacceptable. Absolutely. Gaia's sudden penchant for delinquency called attention to herself. And it had the potential to give her a name and a face among the local authorities--at the very moment he most needed her to be anonymous.

  He pulled a cell phone from his overcoat pocket and punched in a series of ten digits, then turned and abruptly strode east toward Third Avenue.

  Loki often managed to forget that Gaia was a child. More specifically, that she was a teenager: a swirling vortex of hormonally fueled contradictions. He'd always thought of her as a product. He viewed her as the sum total of her unique genetic makeup, of her early environment-- but most of all, of her training. Yet it was now clear to him that her training hadn't been rigorous enough. His brother had done a worse job than he'd previously suspected.

  But he would show her the value of discipline. She would learn to exercise better judgment. Emotion and insecurity were not supposed to cloud reason. Not in someone of Gaia's ... caliber.

  He paused on the corner of Seventy-seventh and Third.

  The intersection was very well lit. Christmas lights

  in apartment and shop windows cast the street in a multicolored glow. A few passersby jostled him. He surveyed his surroundings just to make sure he wasn't being watched or followed. Security checks were usually unnecessary; still, one could never be too careful. It was a lesson he'd learned from the very beginning. He never forgot it. His training had been effective.

  He heard the sound of the black Mercedes long before it rolled to a stop beside him. The engine had a distinct timbre, like a person's voice. It was his home away from home. His traveling headquarters.

  Under normal circumstances the driver opened the door for him. But he was too cold and too annoyed for formalities. He ducked inside.

  The red-haired woman behind the wheel glanced in the rearview mirror.

  He slammed the door. The car pulled into the traffic and began to speed downtown.

  "Your instincts were right," he told her.

  She nodded. "How do you want to proceed?"

  "We wait," he stated.

  "But ..." Her brow grew furrowed.

  "I want to see how far she can be pushed. I want to know exactly
what she's capable of. Peer pressure was a factor I'd never even considered. I'm sure she'll snap out of it."

  The woman's lips tightened. "You think so? I think--"

  "I don't like your tone," Loki interrupted. "Remember our little talk about focus?"

  She didn't reply.

  "If she allows herself to be manipulated to the point of real trouble, we'll have to intervene on her behalf, "he said, mostly to himself. "We don't have the time to sit back and watch her training deteriorate further. My hope is that she'll come to her senses." He sighed grimly. "I don't want to have to deal with her friend. Her psyche is fragile enough. An accident now will just complicate matters."

  CHAPTER 3the christmas spirit

  Maybe it was time for another whack. Gaia had vowed never to punch her ever again--but hey, people broke promises all the time.

  TOM MOORE LONGED FOR A PIECE OF PAPER and a pen. But in Moscow even the most basic luxuries were sometimes impossible to find. The hotel could provide him with vodka, with bad coffee-- but on the day before Christmas, they were out of everything else. Even lightbulbs. His spartan room had a desk, but no desk lamp. And he needed light, too. The days were short at this time of year, and the sun hadn't risen. The only light in the room came from a flickering lamp by his bed, which looked like it had been manufactured during World War II. It was too dim to read or write by.

  Next Year in Jerusalem

  He shook his head.

  Why did they have to assign him to Moscow? Why did they have to torture him?

  But the answer was simple enough. He knew the language. He knew the culture. He stretched out on the mattress. It reeked of mothballs.

  He closed his eyes and thought of Gaia. He was halfway around the world from her today ... not too far from where her mother's family had lived for hundreds of years.

  The thought made him draw in his breath, wincing involuntarily.

  "Katia," he whispered. It had been five years since

  her death, but her beautiful face floated in black space before him as clearly as if he were staring at a photograph ... so much like Gaia's. He shook his head. His lids remained tightly shut. Whenever he came to Russia, Katia's memory clung to him like a shroud, smothering him.