Untouched (Denazen #1.5)(3)
Dez’s eyes widened, but Kiernan just stared. For a moment, I was sure I’d simply made things worse. Eyes never leaving mine, Kiernan stepped around the table, took a deep breath—and disappeared.
Dez jumped to her feet. “What the—”
There was a faint outline—you couldn’t see it unless you were truly looking for it—and every time she moved, it kind of shimmered. Kiernan laughed. It was a nervous sound, missing all the bravado. “So yeah…I am like you, I guess.”
Dez snorted. “And you thought my trick was cool? This is awesome! OhmyGod. Think of the possibilities…”
Kiernan reappeared. “It has its moments,” she said, repeating Dez’s earlier comment.
“Turning invisible is the coolest ability I’ve seen—and trust me, I’ve seen a lot.”
“She doesn’t become invisible,” I said, turning to the girl. “It’s more of a camouflage effect, right? You weren’t completely undetectable. I saw—something.”
Kiernan flicked a finger at me, grinning. A flash of purple. Even her nails matched the SUV in the driveway. “Give the boy a cookie!”
Now really wasn’t the time to think about food. And where was she keeping them? In her pockets? They’d be all crumbled. “I don’t want one. Thank you.”
Eyebrows raised, she wrinkled her nose—I must have insulted her by not accepting her offer—and turned back to Dez. “I become kind of transparent. The faster I move, the easier I am to see. When I was a kid, I couldn’t do it unless I was standing still. Then, as I got older, I just kind of got more control over it.”
Dez nodded. “Mine is like that, too. Until recently, mimicking—that’s what I call it—made me wicked sick.”
Silence.
“So…” Kiernan plunged her hands into her pockets. Her right foot tapped against the ground several times. “You want me to go with you. Where?”
“There’s a place in Parkview—about two hours upstate—that’s safe. A…sanctuary for people like us. It’s a group of Sixes committed to seeing Denazen fall.”
Dez had the girl’s attention now. “A group of Sixes? Like, how many are out there?”
“A lot more than you think.”
Suspicion crept back into Kiernan’s voice. “Well, if these other people—Denazen—want to use me, then what about you? What do you want?”
Dez took a step forward. “We just want to help.”
“Why do I find that hard to believe? You want to help? That’s it? And you don’t want anything in return? Seems unlikely…”
“Look, no pressure, okay? Come back with us now, and if you don’t like it, we can help you find someplace else that’s safe. At least let us try and help your family.”
The girl hesitated, then sighed. “No fam. My parents died last year in a crash, and I’m an only child.” She spread her arms wide. “Everything you see belongs to me.”
Dez and I had spoken about this—the proper responses when people talked about their lives. Show interest and compassion, without being creepy. Listen when people spoke about themselves and shy away from asking strangers personal questions. That last bit of advice came after I’d questioned a woman at an eating establishment on the outskirts of Parkview why her voice was so deep. It wasn’t until later that Dez informed me the woman was a transvestite—apparently not a woman at all. After finding out what that meant, I decided it was true. Some things were better left to mystery.
“That’s unfortunate,” I said, proud of myself. According to Dez, I came across as cold and detached sometimes. I was determined to show her I could be something more. Normal. “I’m sorry they’re dead.”
The girl just stared.
“How about a compromise?” Dez jumped in with a smile. “Kale and I were on our way to an amusement park in town. What if you came with, hung out for a while, and got to know us. We could answer any questions you have, and you could see we’re not the big bad.”
The girl’s face lit up. “Jeeper’s Land of Happy?”
“That’s the one.”
I wanted to protest—she was cutting into Kale time—but I wanted to leave more.
The girl thought about it for a moment. When she didn’t respond right away, I was positive the answer would be no.
“No promises, but fine. A few hours won’t hurt, I guess.”
3
The inside of Kiernan’s purple truck matched the outside. She proudly informed us that she’d had it custom-made. I liked purple—of all the colors it was my favorite—but this was proving to be a bit much.
Still, the fact that we were able to go from Kiernan’s house to the park in something other than the car we’d borrowed from Ginger—with its strange, foul-smelling seats—gave me multiple reasons to overlook the color.
“My mom worked here when I was a kid,” Kiernan proclaimed as we started across the large parking lot. “They used to let the kids mess around on the rides for free after closing most nights. The Tower of Screams was awesome in a cheesy kind of way.”
“There are an awful lot of people here,” I said, looking around.