Inside Straight

Carrie Vaughn Chosen Ones: II

The alarm rang at eleven A.M. A video conference call piped into the Hummer’s drop-down TV screen gave Team Hearts its second mission. It wasn’t a rescue this time, it wasn’t a disaster. It was a treasure hunt.

Peregrine’s image told them: “You must retrieve the contents of a locked safe. The safe is located at the end of an obstacle course. Your entire team must reach the end of the course before you may attempt to open the safe. Deliver the contents to me, tonight, at the American Hero headquarters, for your chance at immunity.”

The video display went black, and the members of Team Hearts stared at the screen.

“Cakewalk,” DB said. “No problem.”

“Famous last words,” Hardhat countered.

In fact, the obstacle course wasn’t difficult. They followed their GPS tracker instructions to an abandoned industrial lot. There they found a maze built with concrete walls winding through the yards and buildings. Wild Fox commented,“Sure be nice to have a bunch of flying bugs to give us a view of this.” Everyone shushed him. Drummer Boy hoisted himself to the top of the wall, which was only (from his perspective) about ten feet tall. He helped everyone else up, and by following the wall to the end, bypassed the maze entirely.

Next, they encountered about five acres of genuine military obstacle course: coils of barbed wire laid in the dirt, high walls to traverse—the works. After bypassing the maze, they decided that was the right strategy for the rest of it. Gardener’s vines tangled with the barbed wire, and as they grew they lifted, pulling it out of the way, creating a path. Hardhat built steps over the walls, Drummer Boy’s strength helped lift people over, and Curveball’s explosions broke through a couple of obstacles. They were on a roll. After the last challenge, this almost easy success felt wonderful. But Ana was still waiting for her chance to do something.

At the other end of the obstacle course, they found a concrete drainage tunnel, large enough that even DB could walk inside without ducking.

“This thing just keeps going, doesn’t it?” Curveball said. Like all of them, she was sweating under the summer sun, streaked with dirt, and visibly tired.

At the end of the short tunnel was a locked iron gate.

“I’ll blow the lock,” Curveball said, tossing a pebble in her hand. “No problem.”

DB glowered. “I think I’ve got this one.”

“But this’ll be easier—”

He’d already put his head down, hunched his shoulders, and charged. All six arms pushed against it. The bars buckled, but didn’t break. Grunting, his mouth twisting in a rictus of effort, he tried it again, digging his feet into the ground, slamming his bulk as a living battering ram against the barrier.

Ana expected the lock to pop, the bars to break, something. But the sound she heard was crunching, a ripping felt as a vibration under her feet—like rock breaking.

The gate’s hinges exploded free of the concrete in a shower of dust and debris. The rest of them ducked back, sheltering their faces with their arms. Somebody coughed.

DB dropped the gate in front of him. It landed with a thud. Chunks of concrete still adhered to the hinges.

“Like you said. No problem,” he said hoarsely, rolling his primary shoulders into place, brushing off the effort.

Curveball didn’t even look at him as she stalked past, stepping carefully in between the bars of the gate. The others filed after her. Ana waited until last, trying to think of something to say. Something that wouldn’t sound trite, or wouldn’t inspire him to take a swing at her. Not that she thought he’d really hit her, but right now he looked like nothing so much as a primordial creature from a forgotten jungle, hunched over, hands clenched into fists, hooded gaze staring after the blond princess he could never have. It might be best to simply creep away silently, and hope he didn’t notice.

“Thanks,” she said. A simple gracias always helped smooth things over.

He growled and marched after the others.

The tunnel opened into a space that looked like an arena: a bowl-shaped park with grassy sides sloping down to a pond some fifty yards in diameter. The surface was dark, opaque. No telling how deep it went.

A flag fluttered from a buoy bobbing in the center of the pond—bright red, X marks the spot. The prize lay somewhere under the surface of the water.

“Well, shit!” Hardhat said. Ana could already hear the bleeps on the final cut.

“Diver on Clubs’ll have this all tied up!” Diver, the woman with gills, could breathe underwater.

Despite the maze, the obstacle course they’d succeeded in traversing, despite making it this far with the sort of flair the judges had to appreciate, the game did seem fixed at this point.

“Maybe it’s not that deep,” DB said. “Maybe I can wade in.”

“Dude, can you even swim?” Wild Fox asked.

“Dude, does it matter?” the drummer shot back.

The water lapped almost imperceptibly along a sandy stretch that led out from the tunnel. DB went straight into the pond, shoes, clothes and all, until the water was up to his ankles, then up to his knees. He continued, dragging against the water, all his arms out for balance.

Then, abruptly, he disappeared. Sank straight down and out of sight. Kate gasped, hand over her mouth.

A second later he came back up, sputtering, shedding water everywhere.

“It drops off,” he reported, gasping for breath. “Three feet deep, then straight down. I don’t know how far it goes.”

He returned to shore, and they stood in a line, staring out at the water, potential heroes with no ideas.

Gardener reached into her ubiquitous pouch. “Maybe I can get some vines growing, pull the thing up to the surface.”

“We don’t even know what the fuck it is,” Hardhat said. “We’re just assuming it’s right under the buoy.”

“You have a better idea?” she said, glowering at him.

“It’s better than nothing,” Curveball said. “We can think of something else in the meantime.”

The conversation continued, but Ana was only half-listening. She was looking at the sand—the ground, the earth—and following it to where it touched the water. And continued, under the water. The soles of her shoes touched the sand, and she could feel the lines of earth spreading under the water. Maybe twenty, twenty-five feet. She’d dug wells hundreds of feet deep. This was nothing. She touched her medallion, mouthed the words por favor.

She could feel the whole area, the hills sloping up to where they butted against concrete walls. She could bring those hills down if she wanted.

“I think I can do it,” she heard herself say, and felt herself step forward, toward the edge of the water, before she realized what she was doing.

DB laughed. “What? What do you think you’re going to do? Hey—maybe you can dig a canal, drain the water. If there were any place to drain it to. And you could dig a swimming pool while you’re at it! But hey, we’ve already got one!”

“Would you shut up and let her try!” Kate said. DB actually shut up.

Ana knelt by the water’s edge. She buried her fingers in the sand. Only her knuckles and the tendons—tensed, straining—were visible. She reached into the earth. Watch this, Roberto.

The hills around them started crawling, the grass rippling. The ground traveled in waves, a subtle, miniature earthquake, creeping ever downward.

The surface of the water rippled, vibrating, like someone was shaking it. Then, the water lurched, splashing with a sound of crashing waves, and was displaced, pushed out, flooding the arena. Ana ignored the stream of water, several inches deep, flowing around her. She was bringing the earth to her.

The bottom of the pond rose to the surface.

The one large pond became dozens of puddles scattered around the whole of the arena. In the middle of the arena stood a brand-new island rising a few feet above the water. With a last shuddering of earth, a bridge formed, a stretch of thick mud leading from Ana to the island. Her hands were now sunk in mud.

In the middle of the island stood a safe, a two-by two-foot square of heavy steel with a handle on the front, and on top of the safe rested a round red buoy, its flag tipped sideways and dripping.

All of them were standing in water now, but no one complained.

Ana sighed, opened her eyes, and looked on what she’d wrought. She tried to be surprised, and found only a sense of resignation. This was what she was. Earth Witch.

“Holy fucking shit,” Hardhat said. His jaw hung open.

A hand touched her shoulder, and she looked up, startled. Kate stood there, frowning with concern. Ana sat back, relaxed, and her arms hung limp.

“You okay?”

Ana smiled. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

Wild Fox tried to cross the mud bridge, but his feet sank to above his ankles almost immediately. His tail stiffened and twitched, and he hurriedly backed away. He had lost a shoe and had to reach back for it. “Okay, not cool.”

Gardener already held a handful of seeds.

She tossed them, and they rained down to the start of the bridge—and grew. Giant lily pads opened and spread like carpets across the length of the bridge, digging roots into the mud, solidifying it.

They crossed the bridge, walking on the squishing green carpet, and discovered

they still weren’t finished, because they had to break the thing open. Without a word DB tackled it, wrenching at the handle, pulling at the crack that marked the door, pounding at the steel sides. He could bend steel bars, but he couldn’t dent this. He glared at the thing as if it had offered a personal insult.

He went at it for five minutes before Kate cut in. “Let me try. Please?” Her tone was flat.

Six arms loose at his sides, DB stepped back.

Kate already had her missile in hand, cupped to her chest in preparation for her pitch. “Everyone stand clear,” she said, and she herself backed onto the edge of the bridge, with the others fanned out behind her.

We’re a team, Ana thought. We really are.

Kate snapped her pitch, and Ana never even saw the marble leave her hand. Only a streak of light blazed—a shooting star—and the streak swerved, slamming straight into the combination knob and locking mechanism. The thing sparked and shattered, pieces zipping in all directions. The safe’s door swung open.

They’d done it. No numbing failure this time. No sense of shame. For a long moment, they didn’t seem to believe it.

Then Wild Fox cheered. “Yes!”

Miniature fireworks flew around him, red and gold light bursting, flowering, and falling. That was a cue, and they all let loose, a cathartic release. Hardhat hugged Earth Witch, Wild Fox grabbed Gardener’s hands and spun her in a circle—and Kate hugged Drummer Boy. He lifted her clear off the ground, and they were both smiling.

They settled down long enough for DB to gesture at the safe and say to Kate, “You want to do the honors?”

Curveball retrieved their prize: a hand-sized velvet box with a gold heart inside.

Hardhat parked Hearts’ Humvee in its spot outside the American Hero studio and cameras captured every move. They were still soaked and dirty from the challenge, but their mood was high—electric. Wild Fox couldn’t sit still. His tail twitched manically. “We’re going to win. We’re totally going to win. They totally can’t rag on us this time.”

“We still don’t know how the other teams did,” Kate said. “If the others got into their safes, then the judges get to call it.”

Secretly, Ana thought Wild Fox was right. They had to win, after all that. She was still wrung out after rearranging the entire arena, and even that was a new feeling. She couldn’t tell if the fatigue was physical—or simple mental shock at what she had done. You can move the world, Roberto had said. What if he was right?

They were the first to arrive. The other three parking spaces were empty. That could only be a good thing.

John Fortune met the group at the stage entrance, swinging the door out and holding it open for them. “Hey! Welcome back,” he said.

“Hi, John,” Kate said.

“I just watched the playback. You guys were awesome. Really awesome.”

“Really?” Kate said, smiling, blushing a little. She turned almost shy.

“Thanks.”

DB hissed at Kate, “That guy’s just kissing your ass.” Everybody heard the mock whisper.

John ignored him. “I know I’m not supposed to tell you how you did beforehand, but I have to say, the look on Digger’s face when he saw what Ana did? Unbelievable.”

Ana felt herself blush.

The door pushed open wider and Berman shoved himself into the group. He spared the slightest of glances for John. “Hey kid, why don’t you find me a donut and coffee or something.”

“Actually, I’m supposed—”

“It’ll only take a minute. Go,” Berman said, smiling over gritted teeth.

“I’ll see you guys later,” John said, squeezing past Berman to reenter the soundstage.

DB laughed. “Captain Cruller’s on a mission.”

“Michael, shut up!” Kate glared at him.

“You don’t have to stick up for him like that,” he said.

“I’m not—”

Berman butted in. “Curveball, my God! That was fantastic! This all comes so easy to you, you know that? You’re a natural.”

Ana found herself looking around for an escape route, but the executive was only interested in Kate. Came right at her, hand outstretched. Somehow, Kate overcame the reflex to offer her own hand to shake, and Berman turned the move into an open-armed gesture of welcome.

“Thanks,” Kate said, frowning. “But we all did it. No one can fault our teamwork this time.”

“Of course, of course,” he said, but his look turned just a bit sour when he regarded the others.

DB crossed all six arms.

“And that’s a great point. That was a really important element when we were putting this together, and you know—I’d love to get your opinion on it sometime, maybe—”

This time, Ana butted in. Really, this had to stop. Kate looked like she was getting ready to throw something.

She angled Kate toward the door. “Hey, are there really donuts in there? ’Cause I’m starving. We missed lunch.” She threw Berman a smile and a glare as they pushed past him. The team followed, like she hoped they would.

Berman’s voice echoed after them. “I need to speak with Peregrine. You kids take it easy.”

“That bastard’s kissing your ass,” Hardhat said, after they’d left the sun and entered the darkness of the building.

“Thanks for the save,” Kate said.

Ana grinned. “Teamwork, chica.”

They waited in catering, some on chairs, some pacing, all of them growing more nervous. Ana and Kate sat side-by-side, looking out over the back end of the set; struts and lights and cables hung everywhere, people in headsets and clipboards wandering back and forth. The dark underbelly of Hollywood magic.

“We have to win this one,” Kate said. She leaned forward, elbows on knees, glaring at nothing in particular. She smiled when John looked their way and waved at them.

Ana’s own nervous twitch found her tracing the outline of her Santa Barbara medallion under her shirt. It was almost a form of prayer. But she wasn’t praying to win the task.

Please, God, get me through this. Get me through the next hour without going insane.

“We did the best we could,” she said to Kate. “Whatever happens, happens. I’m still happy.”

“Whatever happens will be exactly how they rig it to happen,” DB said. He was pacing back and forth along the wall, glaring like a caged animal. He nodded to where the three judges had arrived—Berman was already talking to them.

Ana hated to think that DB might be right.

Team Spades arrived, and they looked smug. Crap. They’d succeeded at their treasure hunt, too. The six Spades teammates ranged out and regarded them, from the two bombshells Pop Tart and Rosa Loteria, the iron-skinned Rustbelt, Simoon and the Candle, on down to the show’s youngest contestant, eleven-year-old Dragon Girl. “Hey, it’s the big losers,” Rosa said. “You guys didn’t actually get anything done this time, did you? You gave up early, right?” Her grin was gloating.

Ana glared at her. People had expected the two of them—both Latinas—to bond, but Ana didn’t much like Rosa. She’d never met anyone so brazen.

Before anyone could respond, Pop Tart vanished, reappeared next to DB, and gave him a smile and wink. “Hey, honey, will I see you around after the show’s done?”

DB had the gall to glance at Kate before saying, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Hmm, we’ll have to see about that.” Pop Tart ran a finger down the uppermost of DB’s arms before turning to follow the rest of her team to the stage.

Kate pointedly, fiercely, ignored the exchange.

Dragon Girl—Rachel—smiled cheerfully and waved. “See you guys later.”

Ana waved back halfheartedly.

“We’re so screwed,” Hardhat said.

Ana and the others were only slightly encouraged when the Clubs and Diamonds arrived, looking glum.

Kate leaned over to Ana. “How could Clubs have gone bust? They’ve got Diver, this should have been a piece of cake.”

“Maybe they’ll show it on the replay.”

The evening only grew more agonizingly tense. Finally, they were called to the stage. It’d all be over soon.

This time, Peregrine’s gown was a magnificent royal purple, sleek and tailored in all the right places. She knew just how to stand to make sure the slit up the side showed off her legs to best advantage. Her hair shone and her smile glittered.

Once again, she welcomed them onstage for their reckoning. Three more of them would be eliminated—discarded—tonight. This was serious. This was war.

First came the replay segments, and Peregrine showed the failures. The other teams had fliers who had made short work of the maze. The obstacle course hadn’t slowed the teams much either. But the water had proven formidable.

Team Diamonds hadn’t been able to retrieve the safe. Matryoshka split, then split again, until eight little versions of the ace—stupid little versions, since they divided the original’s intelligence between them—attempted to swim to the safe. They only ended up floundering like wind-up tub toys, until Tiffani herded them together and coaxed them into reforming. The Maharajah sent his telekinetic servants in the form of shirts, but they hadn’t been strong enough to carry the safe back. Finally, the Amazing Bubbles had tried blasting water out of the pond. She grew thinner and thinner as she released more energy, and managed to empty about half the pond when the air horn sounded, calling an end to the task. The sun was setting by then. Of the performance, Topper observed wryly, “At least you’re persistent.”

All the contestants watched Clubs’ attempt with interest, because the team’s dejected demeanor could only mean that they’d failed. But how? When they found the lake, their expressions were triumphant—water! Diver’s element. They acted like they’d already won. Diver leapt into the water to confirm the prize’s location, and with her help Toad Man made easy work of pulling it to the surface.

Then they stalled. They poked at the safe, pounded at it, prodded it, rolled it, jumped on it, pried at the handles, fiddled with the combination. Stuntman tried hitting it, but he was indestructible, not superstrong. When Brave Hawk tried lifting the safe, thinking to fly with it and drop it from a height, his wings disappeared. He had strength or flight, but not both. Holy Roller even climbed up the side of the arena, pulled himself into his massive human ball shape, and threw his substantial mass down to crash into the safe like a bowling ball. He managed to tip it over, sprawling over it, vaguely resembling a beached whale. Nothing. The longer they couldn’t open it, the angrier they got. It was like watching a troop of monkeys. They degenerated into yelling at each other, and even the preacher on the team couldn’t keep peace between them.

“That could have been a whole lot better,” said the Harlem Hammer, in polite understatement.

Even Topper couldn’t put a nice spin on it. “I’m disappointed. You all showed such promise last week.” She shook her head, and the weight of shame settling on Team Clubs was palpable.

Downs worked up to his own commentary, glaring at them for a long moment, then raising his hand dramatically to tick off items on his fingers. “No points for effort. No points for style. Nothing for teamwork. And absolutely nothing for the least awe-inspiring performance I’ve seen yet. Which is sad, ’cause you guys were that close.” He held thumb and forefinger nearly together. “That close to beating this challenge. And you flushed it.” He scowled as if seriously, intensely, and personally disgusted by them.

The mood lightened as they moved on to the successes.

Dragon Girl carried the day for Team Spades. She’d had Shamu tucked in her backpack. The girl put the stuffed souvenir into the water, and a full grown killer whale burst forth. The whale swam a circuit of the pond to show off, dove to retrieve the safe, and spit it onshore at Dragon Girl’s feet. Rustbelt had only to touch it to dissolve the metal into a pile of rust, leaving the prize for the taking.

It would be up to the judges to decide this one.

“And now, Team Hearts,” Peregrine said. “Let’s watch.”

There was Ana’s feat in replay, almost as impressive on the screen as it had been in person. The hills fell, feeding earth to the island that rose from the middle of the pond, displacing a flood of water, massive geological action slipping by in seconds. Watching it, Ana could hardly believe it herself. She’ddone that?

Topper actually smiled. “Earth Witch, that was an amazing piece of work. I can’t wait to see what you pull out next.”

Downs—the worst of them, the most irascible, impossible to please—drew out his moment, tapping a pencil, acting like he couldn’t find the words. He was playing this for suspense. Then he said, “If I ever hear you say ’I just dig holes’ again, I’ll kick your ass myself.”

There was some laughter at that, and Ana flushed with relief. I survived.

Curveball’s crack at the safe—simple, elegant, effortless—was the perfect end to the replay. Hearts hadn’t just succeeded at the challenge. They’d made it look easy.

Harlem Hammer delivered the verdict this time: “Team Spades, you got lucky. If Dragon Girl hadn’t had that particular stuffie in her sack, what would you have done? On the other hand, Team Hearts pushed their abilities to the edge. They’re mastering their powers, and they’re doing it as a team. For that reason, tonight’s victory and immunity go to Team Hearts.”

They cheered, all of them together, and hugged, a chaotic mass of people—with a foxtail stuck out and waving. DB waded into the middle and picked up Kate with one set of arms and Ana with the other. They squealed with surprise and laughter as he lifted them into the air.

Grinning fiercely, Kate leaned over and spoke across the top of DB’s head to Ana, “I’ll see you in the finals!”

Hearts House had a party that night, because they didn’t have to stand around the table and pick cards. Didn’t have to kick anyone out. Music played—Wild Fox put a Joker Plague CD in the stereo, which immediately endeared him to Drummer Boy and made up for all his pranks. The drummer entertained them by adding live accompaniment, tapping the membranes on his torso and pounding out improvised rhythms.

Drinking sodas, Ana and Kate watched from the kitchen bar.

“Winning feels pretty good, doesn’t it?” Kate said.

“Yeah,” Ana answered. In fact, the whole world had opened up.

“It only gets better from here, I bet,” Kate said. Her smile fell, though, as Drummer Boy made his way over to them. The song had ended, and after grabbing a beer from the fridge, he veered to the bar, throwing a glare at Ana like he wanted her to leave.

He wasn’t going to scare her off that easy.

Expectantly, the two waited for him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Kate said back. Ana waved. Again, he gave her that glare. She kept smiling like she hadn’t noticed.

He ducked his gaze, which almost made him look sheepish, and said to Kate, “I was wondering if you maybe wanted to take a walk or something. Or just go out back and talk. To celebrate. I’ll sneak you a beer.” He showed off the beer bottle in one of his left hands.

She smiled thinly. “Still trying to get me into bed?”

His expression showed a moment of hesitation, like he was trying to decide which way to play this. Then he decided, offering a broad grin. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“Yes, I can.” Her smile cut like glass.

DB walked away, draining half the beer.

Kate blew out a breath she must have been holding. The front door opened; Kate looked over her shoulder at it. Wild Fox and Hardhat were stepping outside.

“I was sort of hoping John would stop by,” she explained to Ana, then took a long drink of soda to hide her expression.

The next time the front door opened, Ana was in the fridge getting more sodas, but she heard Kate hiss, “Oh my God!”

Ana looked. “What is it?”

A man in his late thirties had just come in, a white guy with sun-streaked blond hair and stunning blue eyes. He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and looked around like he was lost.

“Is that Brad Pitt?” Kate said. “That looks like Brad Pitt.”

It certainly did. Despite her whispering, the actor heard her. When he saw Kate, his blue eyes lit up and he came over.

More Hollywood magic. Ana was glad she had a front-row seat for this.

“You’re Curveball,” Brad said. “I recognize you from American Hero.”

“Yeah,” Kate said, nodding and gaping.

“I heard there was a party, so I thought I’d stop by. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Sure. Cool.” Kate was still nodding. “Um…can I get you a Coke or something?”

“Sure. That’d be great.”

Kate took one of the cans from Ana’s hand and handed it to him. His famous grin widened.

Ana studied the actor—the well-known actor who just happened to show up on their doorstep. She wondered…and decided she had to try it. If she was wrong, she could apologize and go back to being the socially awkward member of the team with no harm done.

She put her hand on his shoulder and shoved. Brad Pitt disappeared in a shimmer of light, leaving Wild Fox holding the soda. He cringed, trying to maintain his charming smile. But he couldn’t pull it off like Brad could.

Kate took a moment to register the transformation. Then, she shouted, “Oh, you son of a bitch!”

“Hey, I was just having fun! Don’t throw anything, don’t throw—” He ran, and she chased him, cocking an empty can like she really was going to throw it. Last Ana saw, they went over the sofa and out the back door.

Ana sighed. Now that was going to play well on TV. She didn’t know if the contest was going to get better, but it was certainly going to get more interesting.

Of all the contestants, Earth Witch still seems the most nervous in front of the camera. Like an underground creature that’s suddenly been pulled into the light, which somehow seems an appropriate metaphor for her. But now, at the moment of her great victory, she’s smiling. She’s sitting a little taller, and her face is flushed.

She shyly ducks her gaze. “Yeah, of course it feels great to win the challenge. But I don’t think I could have done what I did without the rest of the team backing me up, you know? It sounds corny, but I feel like they really believed in me. I couldn’t disappoint them, especially Kate. What else can I do?” She shrugs, purses her lips in thought, then shakes her head. “I don’t know. I’ll have to work on that. Right now, I think I’m going to see what I can do about winning this thing.”