Jackson Ford - The Girl Who Could Move Sh*t with Her Mind

“ Lost a team member?”

Carlos— Angel —impaled, begging me to help him. I shake it off.

“Indeed. We’re scouting for another driver as we sp—”

“Did you know? About El Agujero?”

“… As I said. We’ll be finding you another driver. You’ll need to bring them up to speed.”

“You didn’t, did you?”

It’s been dancing around the edges of my mind since Annie told me. If Tanner had known about Angel’s background, about what happened with his brother and the factory and the microfibres and Ultra, then she would have viewed him as a suspect in Chase’s murder from the start. She would have brought him in—or at the very least, she wouldn’t have put it all on me. And if she’d known about what happened at El Agujero, she’d never have hired him to work in the same city as the people who got his brother killed. Tanner would never take that risk.

“No,” she says, her tone icicle-cold. “And we’ll be re-evaluating our intel gathering mechanisms in Mexico. It appears that Mr. Morales—Campos—used a particularly good information broker. They do exist in that part of the world, if you can pay them. His identity checked out when we investigated it. Our due diligence in that regard was clearly lacking, which won’t happen again. Whoever joins the team next will be rigorously vetted.”

“And Jake?”

“What?”

“He wasn’t on your radar.” I sit up a little straighter. “When Chase was killed, you didn’t even consider that there might be someone else out there.”

“Careful, Ms. Jameson.”

“You missed it. You didn’t even know he existed. You thought my parents got lucky, and that I was the only survivor, and you figured you had it all under control. But you didn’t. All this time he was out there, and you had no idea .”

I’m out of breath, and for once it has nothing to do with my damaged throat and lungs. Up until today Tanner’s power and reach had seemed infinite. I didn’t dare disobey her, because she could do anything. Her office in DC was the centre of a vast spiderweb, a million strands reaching out across the globe. Pluck one, pluck two, listen to the signals that come back, then act, safe in the knowledge that the strands went everywhere.

Except they don’t. Even the biggest spiderweb doesn’t go on for ever. The strands have to stop somewhere.

What else does she not know? What’s out there in the dark places where her web doesn’t quite reach? A spider like Tanner might seem terrifying, might be able to hurt you if she wants to. But if you’re beyond her web, she won’t even know you’re there.

“So you’re looking now,” I say. “If there was one, there might be more, right?”

Now there’s real venom in her voice. “Let me remind you, Ms. Jameson: the terms of our arrangement haven’t changed. I am still your advocate here. I’m the one keeping you where you are, free as a bird. You would be very wise not to forget that. You are going to keep working for me. You’re going to keep up with your assignments. If or when I have information that is relevant to you, I will decide if it is worth sharing. Am I clear?”

I’m about to tell her no. How dare she? How dare she mess up this badly and still try to give me orders? How dare she stop me from finding more of the people my parents… changed? There might be more. Many more. If she thinks I’m not going to search for that, she can…

But I don’t tell her, fuck you , like I should.

Doing that would mean being on the run, probably for ever. It would mean leaving behind everything: my car, my apartment, my books, my dreams for a restaurant. Nic. And most importantly Annie, Paul and Reggie.

How could I leave them? How could I just vanish after everything we’ve been through? It’s not just that it would be wrong to ditch them; it’s that I can’t even bear the thought. Throughout that whole insane day, the twenty-four hours—excuse me, twenty-two—when it felt like the entire city wanted us dead, they stuck with me. They helped me and put themselves in harm’s way to do it.

Once, a very long time ago, I had a family. People who knew me. Accepted me. Took care of me. That family destroyed itself—destroyed us —but I’ve found another.

And more than that. Reggie’s words from before we outran the chopper come back to me, spoken as we were sitting in Paul’s truck. What happened to you… what you are, you didn’t choose any of it. And God knows, the situation with Tanner isn’t something I’d wish on anybody… We may not always know the exact effect we’re having on a particular situation, but I can tell you… we’re making a difference .

I don’t trust Tanner. But I trust Reggie.

I’ll keep doing the work. I’ll make my PK mean something. It means it’ll be harder to find out if there are more people like me. Tanner isn’t going to share what she discovers—there’s no way. Not unless it’s to her advantage. I’ll have to build my own web. Start sending out my own strands into the dark places. It’ll be harder, but I can handle it. I have Annie’s connections. Reggie’s hacking. Paul’s logistical skills. And of course I have my PK. An ability which is way, way more powerful than I thought it was.

I reach out with it. I don’t have the energy to really use it, but that doesn’t stop me from sending it out anyway. My range has increased, even now. I can feel everything within fifty feet, my energy wrapped around it. The garbage cans. The power lines. The glass in the windows of the houses lining Brooks Court. The basketball being bounced by a kid in a yard across the way. The chain he’s wearing.

I bring it all back in and wrap it around the Batmobile.

I don’t lift it, but I do give it a very slight tug. The Jeep shifts on its balding tyres, rocking every so slightly.

For everything she can do, and as wide as her web is, Tanner is still human.

I’m not.

“OK,” I tell her. “I understand.”

“Good. I’ll be in touch.”

“I wasn’t done.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just because I’m still working for you doesn’t mean it’s gonna be like it was before. I’m changing a few things.”

“You don’t get to give me—”

“Number one: if you ever send a group of black-ops guys my way again, I will send them back to you in body bags. You don’t believe me, go ask Burr what I can do. Tell him I hope his finger gets gangrene and falls off.”

Dead silence over the line. Even the children in whatever park she’s in have stopped playing.

“Number two: you’re gonna share what you find. If there are other people with abilities out there, you tell me.” She probably won’t, and I’ll have no way of knowing if she does find anything, but it’s worth a shot. “I find out you’re not being straight with me, and we’re gonna have words.”

“Is that so?” She’s gone dangerously quiet.

“Number three: Nic Delacourt. He knows about me and about what we do here, but you’re not gonna touch him. You’re not gonna contact him. You’re not gonna put him under surveillance. You’re gonna forget he exists. Otherwise, you’ll be the one going home in a body bag.”

I’ve pushed it too far. Telling her how it’s going to be is one thing; threatening her is something else.

But after a very long moment she says grudgingly, “I suppose an exception can be made.”

“Damn straight.”

“Anything else I can do for you, Ms. Jameson?”

“Nah. I’m good.”

“Well, if that’s all , then—”

“Wait. I changed my mind. There is something else.”

“What?” It’s a single syllable, but I swear if I were standing in front of her, it would turn solid and stab me in the heart.