The Rising

TEN

ASH DIDN’T GET A whole lot more pleasant after that. He insisted he’d come to rescue me, but acted like I’d found him—against his will—and now I was clinging like a burr, tenacious and irritating.

When we finished eating, he wanted to find a spot to hole up for the night.

“We need to stake out a good place now,” he said. “Before it’s dark. Otherwise, all the good spots will be taken.”

“We found one the night before last,” I said. “We can just go back—”

“Never use the same spot twice. Not when you’re running.”

He seemed to have some experience with this. A lot of experience? I looked down at his tattered sneakers. I had a feeling he didn’t live with those “so-called friends” of our mother anymore.

“So where do street people live in this city?” he said. He shook his head. “Why am I asking you? Hell, this is Canada. The great socialist nation to the north. You guys don’t even have homeless people, I bet.”

“We have them, unfortunately,” I said as calmly as I could.

“Guess socialism isn’t really working out for you, huh?”

“Canada is a democracy. That means we’re not a socialist country or a communist country or a—”

“We have homelessness and we have gangs,” Daniel cut in. “Both of which could be an issue in finding a place to spend the night. You’re right, though. We have no idea where to look for a spot. We’re going to need to rely on you for that.”

I cleared my throat. “Actually, there are a few dozen homeless living here in the park. Long-term campers deep in the woods. When Vancouver had that big windstorm in 2006, they had to go looking for the homeless people, make sure they were all accounted for. Dad came over to help with some other rangers.”

“Make sure they were accounted for?” Ash said. “What? They keep a roster, check in on them from time to time?”

“The park management knows they’re there. They aren’t hurting anyone, so no one bothers them.”

Ash shook his head as if this, too, was clearly the sign of a backward nation.

I said, “As long as we get deep enough in the woods and don’t bother them, we can stay here for the night.”

And I’d really like to stay in the forest, if I can. But I didn’t say that. I had a feeling it would make him decide to stay anyplace but here.

“We should,” Daniel said. “It makes sense. We’re not going to need to worry about gangs in here.”

“All right,” Ash said. “Find a spot.”

As we headed into the woods, Ash just followed along, glancing from side to side, as if he expected wolves to leap out.

Earlier, he’d seemed perfectly comfortable climbing trees. Adept at it. And as long as we’d kept to the edge of the forest, he’d been fine. But Stanley Park is bigger than New York’s Central Park. As we got in deeper, leaving the sounds of the city behind, he grew even more tense and quiet.

“You okay?” I said when he jumped at a sparrow hopping through a bed of needles.

“’Course,” he snapped. “Just paying attention. Someone has to.”

Corey nodded. “You never know. That sparrow could have had an Uzi hidden—”

Daniel elbowed him to silence. Ash fell back, scuffling along, until we got far enough in. He caught up then. He didn’t join our conversation, but did stay close as we continued moving through the woods.

We found a decent place. As Daniel and I cleared twigs and brush for sleeping spots, Corey and Ash stood off to the side. Ash watched us, as if daring us to ask him to help. We didn’t. Corey seemed not to have noticed what we were doing. He was staring out into the forest, lost in thought.

I leaned over to Daniel as we both bent for the same rock. “You should probably talk to Corey about the vision thing.”

“I was just going to say the same to you.” Daniel took the rock and motioned for me to follow him a few steps away. “You’re the one he told about them in the first place.”

“Only because—”

“He didn’t want to worry me. I know. But while I think that might have been part of it, it’s partly just . . . It’s not about boxing or girls or cars. Not something he wants to talk to a guy about. Having visions? Way outside his comfort zone. Too . . .”

“Touchy-feely mystical?”

“Exactly. For that, he’d rather talk to you. Like I’d tease him or something.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m more likely to tease him. But okay. Let me give it a shot.”

“Thanks.” He glanced over at Ash. “Speaking of comfort zones, I think your brother finds it easier talking to me. Is there anything I can ask him for you?”

I shook my head. “There’s plenty I want to know, but I need to ask myself. When I think he might actually answer. Which could be never.”

“Don’t let it get to you.”

“I’m not.”

“Liar.”

I smiled, shook my head, and walked over to Corey.

Daniel was partly right. Corey was really uncomfortable with his newfound powers. But I’m not sure talking to me helped. Everyone else seemed to have physical powers. His was mental. Corey was really better with the physical. It didn’t help that his came with the most serious side-effect of all—debilitating headaches. He felt ripped off.

“I think it’s just a transition period,” I said. “You’re coming into your powers, and the headaches are a sign of that. Once it develops properly, they’ll go away.”

“Or not.”

“Maybe if we do get you a crystal ball, that would help.”

“Thanks.”

“You know I’m teasing.”

“Yeah, and I also know I’m being a brat. I just . . . I don’t . . . I don’t understand it. What’s happening. It doesn’t feel . . .” He glanced over. “It doesn’t feel like me. Changing into a cougar fits you—you’re a nature freak. Being an evil-hunting warrior fits Daniel. Sam, too. Being mermaids or whatever fits Hayley and Nicole. But this . . . it doesn’t fit me.”

“There may be more to it,” I said. “Parts we don’t know about. No one else just has one power. We need to find out exactly what you are.”

He was quiet for a moment, then said, “I think I might know more. I . . .” He glanced over to where Daniel was trying to engage Ash in small talk. “He should hear this. Daniel, I mean. I guess there’s no way of doing that without him overhearing.” A pointed look at Ash. “But if he makes a crack—any crack—I’ll deck him. Brother or not.”

“No argument here. He’s not exactly Mr. Congeniality.”

“No kidding. I think we’re going to need a DNA test to prove you two are related.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”