The Dysasters (The Dysasters #1)(29)

Her smile faded like a snuffed candle. “Depends.”

“How about you stop keeping things from me and I promise anything you say to me goes into the vault.”

Foster furrowed her brow as her green-eyed gaze went to the Batcave. “Vault?”

“Not a literal vault. It’s what my g-pa and I always say when we tell each other a secret. It goes into the vault and it doesn’t come out unless the person who put it in there, which would be you, says it’s okay to tell someone else.”

“What if it’s never okay to tell someone else?”

“Then it stays in the vault,” he said.

“You’re serious?”

“G-pa and I never joke about the vault. It’s for real.”

Foster blew out a long breath. “All right. Deal. But if you mess that up, even once—I’ll never—”

“I won’t,” Tate interrupted. “I swear on the memory of my mom and dad.”

Foster’s eyes widened. “I believe you.” She drew another deep breath, like she was getting ready to dive into a pool, and then blurted. “I have this Jedi mind trick thing I can do.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means if I concentrate, or maybe want it bad enough, I can make people do what I want them to do.”

“Like Yoda? Seriously?”

“Like Yoda. Seriously.” She picked at her fingernails. “I used it on you accidentally when I told you to go the fuck to sleep in the truck. But I didn’t know it would work. It never did before—not really. Then while you were asleep I went into the Quickie Mart and there was this bubba in there. He was watching the news and we were on it.”

“What!”

“Yeah, someone must have recorded us. It was when you tossed the tornado away. He recognized me and was going to call some news guy he knew. I panicked and used my Jedi mind trick. On purpose. And it worked. I told him to forget he’d ever seen me, and he did.”

“Holy crap. You Obi-Wan Kenobi–ed him! And me!”

She kept picking at her fingernails. “Well, I didn’t mean to Obi-Wan you. Only him. But, yeah, I did.”

“That’s freaking awesome!”

Foster blinked. “You actually think so?”

“Are you kidding? That’s a super helpful power to have! Of course I’ve gotta watch that you don’t go over to the Dark Side, but still. Super helpful.”

“I wouldn’t go to the Dark Side.”

“Said Anakin Skywalker, like, a bunch of times before he went over to the Dark Side.” Tate felt a rush of excitement. “Hey! What if all we have to do is find this Doctor Rick guy and have you use your Jedi mind trick on him and make him tell us everything?”

All the color drained from Foster’s face. “No. I don’t want to see him again. Ever.”

“But Foster, he could—”

“He pretended to die. He left Cora and me. He fucked with our genetics when we were fetuses and then he sent his goons to capture us. Who cares if he’s telling us everything if he’s also trying to use us or destroy us? No, Tate. Let’s figure out how to find the other kids. Bring them here. And then decide what the hell we’re going to do without that crazy bastard having any part of it. Okay?” Her green eyes beseeched him.

Slowly, Tate nodded. “Okay. I get it. I hear you.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “So, where do we begin?”

Foster headed into the Batcave, calling back over her shoulder at him. “I started making piles on top of the file cabinets in here. One stack of stuff I thought might help us find these other people, and the other is full of stuff so sciency and confusing that I can’t figure out if it’ll help us or not.”

“Okay, well, I got some ramen. We can make a few bags and figure out where to go from here.”

“We don’t have time to stop and have some fancy dinner.”

“It’s ramen. Not all that fancy.”

Foster continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “There are crazy people out there who are hell-bent on capturing not only us, but six other people who may or may not know that they’re complete freaks. You might not give a shit about me, but think about them.”

“I give a shit about you.”

Foster turned and met his gaze, her emerald eyes inscrutable.

“I mean, I care about people, and you’re a person, so…” When she just stood there staring at him, Tate went to the entrance to the safe room and spoke in his most rational voice. “Look, we’ll work a lot better if we eat. We can even take some of those files into the kitchen with us. One of us can cook and the other can read aloud and make notes.”

“I suppose you want me to do the cooking.”

“Nope. I’m an excellent cook. And ramen is my specialty. Plus, providing you sustenance is part of me helping to keep you from turning to the Dark Side.”

Foster rolled her eyes at him, but marched past him out of the Batcave, and picked up one of the bags of groceries. “Nighthawk, try not to be such a dork.”

“Do or do not, there is no try,” he said automatically. Foster was walking ahead of him, so Tate couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard, just for a moment, her laughter.