The Energy Room (The Elementum Trilogy) Read online

  I nodded in agreement, still having trouble getting my vocal chords to cooperate.

  “Be careful, though. This could still be some sort of trick,” Bryant cautioned.

  “How could they possibly simulate someone’s voice inside her head, Bryant?” Nadia snapped.

  “I’m just saying! I wouldn’t put it past them,” Bryant said, raising his hands in surrender as he lay back in his seat.

  “He’s right. We don’t know what they’re capable of,” Lakin stated.

  “Let’s say, hypothetically, William found or trained a telepath. If Al can truly get inside my head, then he would already know about you guys,” I posed.

  “Even if they do find out, what could they possibly do? There’s no way for them to get into the Room,” Nadia said conclusively.

  “Do we know that for sure?” Bryant asked.

  “How could they? It’s inside our heads,” Nadia huffed.

  “Even so… we shouldn’t assume anything,” Lakin remarked.

  We sat in silence for a while, all considering everything the others had said. I felt my cheeks burn, as my eyes locked with Lakin’s for a moment. In that instant, I could see that he was not as disconnected as he tried to appear. He was full of just as much anguish as I was. Even though he was exceptionally talented at hiding his torment, it was there, eating away at him like a parasite; hot fury coursed through him, like lava, in his veins.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jaloux Petit Hamster, Reprise

  I rehearsed our future conversation in my head, tapping my fingernails against the railing of the elevator as it steadily carried me down to The Village. I would knock on Eric’s door, and tell him we needed to talk. I would tell him I was sorry for being catty with him. I would explain that I cared a lot for him, but that I thought we were better off as friends.

  I blushed as the memory of kissing him in my apartment raced through my head. Even though I knew the elevator was empty, I looked down in embarrassment. ‘None of that,’ I thought. I shook my head in an attempt to force the memory out, bouncing on my feet in anticipation. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? It couldn’t be that hard to break up with your best friend.

  I bit my lip as the elevator doors opened to what would surely be my doom. I scrambled to press the ‘10’ button, releasing a long sigh as the doors closed me back in to the protective lift. I was banging my head against the cold white wall of the elevator by the time the doors revealed my empty floor. I growled in frustration, punching the ‘16’ key again.

  “Pull yourself together, woman,” I said to myself, cracking my neck as if I were about to enter into a boxing ring.

  “What are you doing, Angela?” a voice with an English accent unexpectedly called over the speaker in the elevator.

  “GOOD GOD!” I shouted, jumping what felt like three feet into the air, “I hate when you do that, William!”

  “You’ve been up and down in the lift four times,” William stated, obviously waiting for an explanation.

  “I’m trying to get the nerve to talk to Eric. Stop spying on me,” I said bluntly, the doors opening, once again, to The Village.

  “I like to think of it as monitoring,” William said. I could tell he had a satisfied look on his face.

  “There’s nothing to monitor. You won’t let me do labs, and my Electro-Cuffs are set to kill. Don’t you have anything more important to do?” I glared at the small camera in the front, right corner of the elevator, jamming my hand in between the doors as they attempted to close.

  “Nothing is more important than the safety of our residents, Angela,” William said in a stern tone.

  “Right,” I said under my breath, deciding whole-heartedly that whatever would happen with Eric had to be twenty times better than talking to William.

  I was very aware of curious eyes watching me from behind the closed blinds of nearly every house. I was guessing the news had gotten around that I had set fire to my new shrink. The part where it was an accident and I tried to heal him with a bagilliondy volts of electricity coursing through my body, had most likely been left out of the general story, which had spread around like a virus.

  I shook my head as parents ushered their kids inside, issuing me nervous glances before locking their doors. I was flabbergasted that after almost eighteen years of working with, around, and on me, people were actually afraid of me. I had never done anything to intentionally hurt anyone in The Facility. I could have… but I didn’t.

  “Afternoon, Angie!” Dr. Helmsworth shouted, waving happily.

  I waved back with a smile. At least there was one person who wasn’t frightened of me. If Dr. Helmsworth hadn’t turned off my Electro-Cuffs, there was no saying what state Al would have been in. Those kinds of burns don’t exactly go away with ointment and bed rest; those kinds of burns ooze puss for days, then get infected and kill you… according to that one documentary I watched that one time.

  I took a deep breath, knocking on the door of the last house on the block. I was barely able to recognize the woman who answered the door. The Emmy I had always known was not the Emmy standing in front of me. Dark rings fell underneath her exhausted eyes, making her look at least ten years older. Her hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed in days, kind of like mine always did, but very uncommon for Emmy.

  “Hi Angie, come on in,” Emmy said with a yawn, letting me past her.

  The enthusiasm she had always exuded was lost, leaving only fatigue in its place.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, fighting the urge to feel her forehead for fever.

  “Oh, I’m fine sweetie. I just need to lie down,” Emmy replied, forcing a weary smile. “Eric is in his room, dear.”

  I nodded in thanks and made my way up to the second floor, keeping an eye on Emmy for long enough to see her flop herself onto the sofa. I hoped she was alright. I wondered if some sort of toxin had been set loose, causing people to turn into zombies. I shook the nonsense out of my head, hesitantly knocking on Eric’s door.

  “It’s open!” a muffled voice called from inside the room.

  I opened the door cautiously, poking my head just far enough into the room to alert Eric that it was me.

  “Hey,” I said almost questioningly. I was relieved to be met by a smile.

  “Come on in,” Eric said, waving me toward him.

  I tip-toed into the room. Even though Eric’s tone was friendly enough, I felt slightly unwelcome inside his room. Inside his house, for that matter. There was a sense of uneasiness within the entire Stein home.

  “How are you doing?” I asked, eyeing him nervously.

  Eric chuckled, taking a seat at the end of the bed and patting his hand on the cover. I sighed, rolling my eyes slightly as I slowly sat next to him, being sure to keep my distance.

  “I know you better than to think you’ve come down here just to make small talk. What’s up?” Eric asked with kind eyes.

  “I wanted to talk to you… about us, I mean,” I said somberly, keeping my eyes on my hands.

  “Oh?” Eric questioned, his joyful tone quickly morphing to that of suspicious gloom.

  I closed my eyes as hard as I could, inhaling deeply. I decided it would be best to say everything I needed to say as quickly as possible. It was like ripping off a Band-Aid.

  “I just really care for you a lot and I think we went about all of this the wrong way and for the wrong reasons and I don’t want to mess up our friendship and I’m really sorry and please don’t hate me,” I rattled out, not pausing for a breath.

  Eric didn’t say anything for a long while, and I wondered if I had spoken too fast. Perhaps he couldn’t even decipher what I had said. Perhaps he was deciding the best way to kill me, and how to hide the body. I raised my eyebrows, trying to determine what was going on inside his head. His face was blank, but his eyes were filled with thought. Finally, he looked to me with a smile.

  “You’re right. We did this for the wrong reasons. I don’t think it happened too fast, though. I’v
e loved you my entire life,” Eric said quietly, his eyes burning into mine.

  “I know. But we went from being best friends who farted on each other, to making out in my living room, over the course of a couple days. I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to work,” I remarked, placing a hand sympathetically on his shoulder.

  Eric nodded in agreement, giving me a soft smile.

  “Friends?” I asked.

  “Friends,” Eric replied, hugging me gently. “Can I ask you a question, though?”

  “Anything.” I smiled, feeling as if I had regained my best friend in The Facility.

  “Do you have feelings for Al?” Eric inquired, the slightest hint of jealousy returning to his eyes.

  I snorted, shaking my head in irritation. I guess sometimes the Band-Aid gets stuck on your arm hair, and makes you do an embarrassing little half-dance while you curse yourself for thinking you could get away unscathed.

  “Are you serious?” I retorted, scooting a few inches away from him on the bed.

  “I just want to know,” Eric said firmly.

  “Does it make a difference?” I snapped, rising to my feet to stand with my arms crossed.

  “Yes. It does,” Eric countered harshly.

  “Why?! Why does it make the slightest difference?” I exclaimed, feeling my temper rise.

  “I want to know if you’re breaking up with me because of the reasons you said, or because you’re falling for him,” Eric said, his voice thick with revulsion.

  “I’m breaking up with you because the only reason we were ‘dating’, was because you were being a jealous. Little. HAMSTER.”

  “Fine,” Eric huffed, crossing his arms and glaring away from me.

  “Fine!” I shouted, doing the same.

  We stewed in our angry soup of silence for a while. Now and then, we would catch eyes and make a face at each other. Our immaturity could have been cut with a knife, and served with sides of narcissistic whipped cream and stubborn strawberries. I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and forefinger, wondering how our conversations as of late always ended up as an apparent battle to the death. While I was fond of Al as a person, and indeed had no feelings of attraction for him, all of my problems with Eric were sparked as soon as he came into the picture. I wondered if I would really be forced to choose between my lifelong friend, and my new psychologist. Eric’s sudden change of tone suggested I wouldn’t be required to choose.

  “Did you really set him on fire?” Eric asked quietly.

  “Yeah. Not on purpose,” I answered with the slightest chuckle, back turned to him.

  “I heard his eyebrows are gone,” Eric said, voice laden with insufferable gratification.

  “Al has only ever been nice to you. He hasn’t done anything wrong,” I rambled, groaning in frustration as I returned to my seat next to him.

  “It doesn’t feel that way,” Eric said miserably. “It feels like he’s here to take away something very important.”

  “He’s not going to take away anything, Eric. He’s my shrink. You’re my best friend. It’s not one or the other. I don’t even have a choice of whether or not to see him, you know? Whatever you think is going on, or will go on, between me and Al… you’re wrong. Not that it’s any of your business,” I mumbled.

  Eric eyed me suspiciously, trying to determine if I was lying. He knew me well enough, he was almost always capable of calling me out on my dishonesty. I wasn’t lying, though. I had no intentions of pursuing a romantic relationship with my therapist. On the same thought, I hadn’t had any intentions of pursuing a romantic relationship with Eric, either. Eric nodded in approval.

  “So can we drop it, and just go back to being us? I miss us. The real us,” I pleaded, resting my chin on his shoulder.

  “Yeah. The real us is good, I guess,” Eric smiled, wrapping his arm around me in a friendly embrace. “But I still would have loved to see you catch him on fire.”

  I jokingly punched him on the shoulder, giggling as the distant man in front of me transformed back into the young boy I was so familiar with. A wave of relief flooded over me as we smiled and laughed. Our conversation may not have gone exactly how I had planned, but it seemed to have worked out for the better. I had my best friend back, and maybe Lakin would be able to find it in his heart to forgive me. Maybe.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Shrinking Affection

  I couldn’t help but stare at Al’s face. Even with my healing abilities, it was miraculous that he had almost completely recovered from his burns in just a couple days. All the pinkish color of new skin had completely left him. His eyebrows and hair had even started to grow back. Although, I did have to emit a small chortle at the sight of the eyeliner he had used to draw on the rest of his eyebrows. He looked as though the only tragedy that had befallen him was a party prank in poor taste, involving an electric razor and a permanent marker.

  “Are you going to keep staring at me like that?” Al asked uncomfortably, shifting in his seat.

  “Sorry, but… it’s kind of amazing,” I said in awe, reaching out to touch his clearly fake eyebrows.

  Al slapped my hand away, just as he had done with the medics a couple days before. I was unable to control my snort of laughter as he eyed me fussily.

  “I’m a fast healer,” Al explained, pouting at my amusement.

  “Yeah, but you don’t have a single scar. Even I’m not that good,” I said, retreating to my sofa.

  Al sat silently across from me, false eyebrows wrinkled in thought. It seemed as though there was something heavy weighing on his mind. I shifted anxiously in my seat, trying to decide whether or not to ask him if something was wrong. It was unlikely if something had been wrong that he would tell me what that something was. He was the psychologist. I was the patient. While I would have liked to think that we were on somewhat of a higher level of friendship, seeing as how I saved him after almost turning him into charbroiled steak, I reminded myself that I wasn’t in any position to get close to an employee of The Facility; even if that employee was somehow connected to me and my kind.

  I remembered the discussion that took place in the Energy Room the night before. Perhaps I could find a way to communicate with Al through my mind, to try to find out if he really did know something about us. I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, pondering the best method for my first attempt at telepathy.

  “What’s on your mind?” Al asked, taking his notebook out of his worn messenger bag.

  “You tell me,” I said suspiciously, leaning forward to eye the therapist intently for any signs of acknowledgment.

  Al looked at me oddly, as if he were staring at some sort of… freak of nature, or something. I leaned back in my seat, shaking my head as I observed no signs that he was reading my thoughts. I was fairly certain he thought I was on drugs.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Al questioned innocently.

  “Nothing. I’m weird,” I responded plainly. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

  Al sighed, skimming through his notes. He seemed so unfocused, like someone took the Etch-A-Sketch in his mind and chucked it in the washing machine. I badly wanted to ask what was wrong; whether because I really cared or because I was nosy, I wasn’t sure. Probably because I was nosy…

  “Are you okay? You seem sort of out of it,” I inquired.

  …maybe because I cared.

  “What? Yeah, uh… I’m fine. Bit of a headache,” Al replied.

  He was lying. I didn’t know why, but he was most definitely lying.

  “Do you want to head down to the medical floor? They can give you something for it,” I said politely.

  Residents weren’t allowed to keep medication in their homes, not since Dr. McGhee ‘accidentally’ took too much of his sleep aid a few years back. He woke up, of course… but after the incident, he had to be kept on the medical floor, where he spent most of his time coloring and watching cartoons.

  “No thanks, I’ll be fine,” Al forced a smile, staring at me until it beca
me so uncomfortable that I had to look away.

  “Alright, then. What are we talking about today?” I asked curiously.

  Al rubbed his eyes, seeming very upset. I didn’t take my eyes off of him, half expecting him to yell at me for something I did or said. I felt my general affection for the shrink begin to shrink. In lowering his hands from his face, I could see the eyeliner smeared over his forehead, giving him the appearance of a unibrow. I snorted to myself.

  “I don’t know, Angie. Whatever you want to talk about,” Al responded in an exhausted tone.

  I was starting to get a little angry; he was treating me like a child who had spilled milk all over the kitchen table while trying to make their own bowl of cereal.

  “Are you mad at me? You know, I didn’t mean to burn your face off,” I snapped, feeling my temper attempting to get the best of me.

  “No, it doesn’t have anything to do with that. It’s nothing, really. I’m sorry for being so distant,” Al sighed, drained.

  I slumped my shoulders, feeling guilty for snapping. Al was genuinely upset about something, but it seemed there would be no way for me to help him. If he was a mind-reader, he certainly wasn’t reading my mind at that point in time.

  I sat up a bit straighter. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he was reading someone else’s thoughts, and it was stressing him out. Lakin would have called me crazy, and perhaps I was, but I had a hunch. It was a much stronger hunch than when I suspected Dr. Helmsworth of being an alien.

  I focused on Al’s face. If I did possess psychic capabilities, they weren’t anything the scientists had studied; it wouldn’t cause a chemical reaction that my Electro-Cuffs would be able to detect. I squinted my eyes, trying to imagine myself inside Al’s head. I leaned forward more, focusing harder, trying to see…

  “Seriously, Angie. What are you doing?” Al asked uneasily, leaning in the opposite direction from me, even though we were feet away from each other.