"Stop it!" screamed a girl. Other kids echoed her.
In response, Kin switched the direction of the tunnel, causing all of the material to be thrown at the floor with scary speed.
"What the hell do you think you were doing?" demanded a big kid Brandon sort of recognized. He looked like he was sixteen or seventeen.
"You'll kill somebody," was Kin's answer.
"If somebody gets hit then it's their own fault!" retorted the big kid. He slammed one fist into his open other hand with a startling clank. So he was a texture absorber, or something.
"Fine." Within seconds the wind tunnel was back, this time pointed directly at the kid.
Suddenly Kin was gone and his tunnel started to spin around the room dangerously. Brandon looked around to see where he had gone, and he discovered him on the floor ten or twelve feet away, pinned to the ground. He recognized the boy pinning him as Will Maximoff, a speedy. He must have been moving fast to knock Kin to the ground like that, but if anyone could it would be Will.
There was another minute or so of chaos as the twister raced around the room and people, Brandon included, tried to get out of its way. Finally Kin got a hand free and brought it down the same way he had before.
"Stupid idiot!" yelled a girl Brandon didn't recognize. She was talking to Will, thankfully. Some others swore at him, and he jumped up and went somewhere so fast that no one had enough time to figure out where that was.
At this point Brandon had to admit that maybe his mother was right after all. He was the only one there without a power, and if anyone was going to use their power against him it was going to be someone from the Heap. These were the kids who had effectively lost both of their parents, after all, even if it was just because neither of their parents was a mutant. A lot of them were unstable.
As he walked the block and a half to his house he started to realize what his mom had been talking about. It wasn't that her life outside had been a whole lot better than Kin's; it was that kids become part of where they live. Brandon had lived his whole life in the barrow as far he knew, and he couldn't imagine living anywhere else. He assumed that since the other kids had lived outside for a long time they would remember it and wish they were still there, but they couldn't imagine living anywhere else any more than he could. They had already become part of the barrow, and most likely part of the Heap. Hadn't Kin been coming back there ever since he had lived there? He had never thought about it before, but there was no real reason for him to have been coming back the whole time. He didn't have any good friends there or anything.
He stopped at the corner and turned around, wondering whether Kin had followed him out. He hadn't. Was it because he hadn't noticed that Brandon left? Or was it because he didn't want to leave, even after what had already happened?
"What's the matter, boy?" asked a voice behind him, "Afraid of it, are you?" It was a distinctive voice, and he had clicked it into place by the time he turned around to face the man. Mr. Toadstool.
"What's it matter?"
"There's no need to take that kind of tone. I was just wondering. They're all mutants, after all..."
Brandon put as much disdain into his voice as he could. "They're in the barrow. Everyone here is a mutant."
"Oh. Have you gotten some power, then?"
His cheeks started to turn a little red despite himself. He hadn't been thinking about the fact that he was the only flat, he told himself, but it was no use.
"You just left there, didn't you? Couldn't handle it? A little bird says they finally pulled down the last of the lighting. It must have been scary with all that metal flying around."
He couldn't quite believe that Mr. Toadstool would know that. There had always been rumors that he was telepathic, but they were usually followed by somebody scoffing. Could it be true?
"Of course I'm telepathic. You didn't know that?" He smiled sickly.
"What!"
The green man laughed. "You don't have to worry so. I can read your face, boy, not your mind."
Brandon's ears burned. What could he say to that? Why was this man so horrible, anyway? What had HE ever done to him?
"Look, you know about the rebellion." It wasn't a question, but he was looking intently at Brandon, so he nodded in response. "I'm part of it. Would you like to help us?"
He gaped. What else could he do?
"I know about your mum. And I know Mr. Eye's methods with the agents; she won't last a month."
Terror flooded Brandon's stomach despite him. How could the man know about his mother? How could he know about the nickname for Mr. Summers? And if he knew that much, could the rest have been true too? He didn't want to think about it.
"My point is that you may have a chance to help your mother and get back at the people who did your dad, too. See, I work for a little different part of the rebellion than Mr. Summers. Have you heard of Magneto?"
He thought he recognized the name, but he wasn't sure. In any case it sent a shiver up his spine. It was the way the green man said it, the way he whispered it. If you whispered in the barrow it was probably because you would be arrested for speaking aloud, and if anyone was so powerful that just speaking their name would get you arrested... "Who is he?"
"He doesn't live in this barrow or any other. The only one, maybe." His eyes held Brandon's. They told him clearly that this Magneto was a mutant, and a very powerful one. "Everyone reports to him, or at least everyone used to. In the last few years certain mutants have gotten a touch greedy." He knew immediately that one of those 'certain mutants' was Mr. Eye. Could it possibly have been that Toadstool was a teep for real? He wondered, but the man kept speaking and he couldn't help but pay attention. "Those mutants have taken matters into their own hands, and have recruited many mutants without consulting the Outsider. Most of these are now dead. What we need is to put the reins back into HIS hands."
Questions raced through Brandon's brain. Was it even possible that all of it was true? Was it possible that there could have been a mutant who lived outside the barrow, who controlled the rebellion? Foremost, though, was one question that he just couldn't leave unanswered: why was this man telling him, of all people?
"Why me?"
The man grinned at him. He always looked like an alligator or some other reptile when he did that. "Many reasons. You're smart, for one thing. You're smart enough to see through sparkling Mr. Eye. You're smart enough to realize that there's more to life than the barrow, something no young mutant realizes."
"I knew it! You are telepathic!"
"No," said the man, shaking his head. "I don't have to be able to read minds. I read people."
"You lie!"
Mr. Toadstool grinned again. "Do I? You're a right mine of information. You miss your dad; that's the first thing I see. Next, you think a hell of lot more than the others your age. You just sit and think, don't you? The other obvious thing is that you wish you had powers like the others. You hate the Heap, and that's why; you know you're smarter than those kids, but any one of them could kill you. It's not fair, is it?"
Brandon absolutely couldn't believe his ears.
"Furthermore, you hate your little friend who controls the wind. You don't believe you will ever be a mutant."
"That's not true! You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" He refused to believe that it was true, even though he knew somewhere in himself that it was.
"You're smarter than all of them, Brandon. Think about it; I know you'll see that everything I have told you is the truth."
"Go away!"
"Very well, but in five or six hours you'll want to talk to me again. I'll be at the pub." He gave a mocking half-salute, pushed past Brandon, and walked away.
"What?" asked Brandon quietly as he stared after the green man. After he disappeared from view Brandon turned around, shook his head, and walked to his house.
His house wasn't comforting like he thought it would be. His mom was already gone, so it was too silent, too dark. He flipped on the main light but it didn't help. It was too CALM. He would just have to wait until his mom arrived. Then he would tell her all about the weird meeting with Mr. Toadstool and she would make him feel better. He flopped himself on the couch and glanced over at the useless TV.
Would it be right to tell Mom, if any of what the man said was true? If Mr. Eye really was taking over the rebellion and sending people out to be killed, wouldn't it be better off for him not to tell her? It was very tempting to believe at least that much, that Mr. Eye was doing things wrong, that it was his fault Dad had died.
He burst into tears, to his shame. He thought horrible deaths at Mr. Eye and wiped his eyes furiously. There was no reason to believe Toadstool, but that didn't him any less certain that the man had been right about that part at least. And if he was right about that part then who was to say that his mother wasn't about to die, that she didn't need his help? What if this Magneto guy could save her and get them out of the barrow? If anyone could do it it would be someone who had managed to stay out of it the whole time, right?
'You don't believe you will ever be a mutant.' That was what he had said. Brandon wondered. He had long wished that his body would hurry up and change, to make his mutations come to the surface. How could he not, when everyone else already had their powers? For years there had been older kids, kids like Chloe and Stephanie Erickson, who had lived in the barrow but who hadn't had powers. Now, though, all of them had changed, and many more kids had come to the barrow BECAUSE they had powers. Now the only others without powers were little kids. One eight-year-old, Tommy, was the only other kid over the age of five without any powers. He knew he had heard why that was. He thought about it for a few seconds, then he remembered something his dad had told him once a couple of years before. That was the answer. 'Your mother was pregnant with you when they created the barrows and forced everyone to move into them. You were the last child born in this barrow for a long time, because many families were broken up, and even when they weren't - when both the husband and the wife were mutants - they didn't want to have children in this place. Many people in fact said they COULDN'T have children in this place. We tried, and failed. You might have had a little brother or sister, if not for this place.' At the time it had seemed important only because he had not known that he might have had a little brother or sister, and he regretted not having one. Now, though, it meant much more.
Thinking about it was too painful, so he decided not to. He shook himself off and remembered what he had been thinking before.
What had Toadstool been talking about? Had he only pointed out that Brandon wasn't a mutant to make him mad, or was there a real reason? Why would he have asked for his help at all if he didn't know something? Could the man have known a way to make his mutations come forward?
As soon as he thought of the possibility his heart rate sped up. It made sense. The way he taunted him...Not that Brandon knew how it was possible to draw out a mutation. But that didn't mean it was impossible. And who would know if not Magneto and the people running the rebellion? Especially considering that Brandon couldn't have been THAT far from becoming a mutant on his own. Or could he? Of the mutants who didn't already have their powers as kids, most girls got them at eleven or twelve, but most boys got them at thirteen or fourteen. And who was to say he would ever become a mutant? One girl, Marina, had stayed in the barrow until she was eighteen, then had left. The army wouldn't even have let her if she was a mutant. What if he was another Marina? He would never be able to get back at the people who killed his dad, then.
He was thinking too hard, he decided suddenly. 'You just sit and think, don't you?' had been what Toadstool had said. What he needed to do was just not think about anything for a little while, just until his mom came back. He went into his mom's room and grabbed the old notebook off of her desk. He took it back to his bed and turned it on. It wasn't very good for games - it crashed a lot - but at the moment he didn't feel like coming up with his own game, so he opened up the little solitaire program and started a game.
As suspected, the program crashed fifteen minutes into his game. He turned the notebook off and back on, then started a new game.
The second time it crashed he was almost thankful, since he had just lost anyway.
Four hours passed before Brandon thought to check the clock. When he did he started to become anxious that his mother wasn't back yet. On the other hand, she did say it would be three or four hours. There was no reason to be worried yet.
Half an hour later Brandon suddenly thought of what Toadstool had told him at the end of their meeting. 'Very well, but in five or six hours you'll want to talk to me again.' Why five or six hours? Did he somehow know that Mom was supposed to be coming home after four hours, and that she wouldn't? His blood ran cold. What if they had done something to her? The man had been so confident that he would come back.
Suddenly he had to know. He had to know if they had done something to her. If they had he would find a way to stop them and do whatever it took to make it right.
He was out the door and running down the street in the space of a couple of heartbeats. Had he been lying the whole time? Could he and his boss have been sabotaging the rebellion? Could they have been working with the humans?
As he rounded the corner where the meeting had happened his confusion multiplied. Why would he have come? Why would he have talked to Brandon? It made no sense if he was part of the rebellion and even less sense if he was trying to stop the rebellion. He had to know. He had to know why Toadstool had talked to him.
When he got to the pub he didn't hesitate to go in even though he wasn't allowed and had never gone in before. He wondered whether someone would kick him out as soon as he got inside, but no one did. No one cared about the rules except the soldiers; if he didn't make himself obvious to any of them he should be fine.
It took exactly one second for him to spot the green man once he was actually inside. He was in a corner with no one close by him. He was flicking out his tongue at something eight or ten feet away on the counter; that was probably what Brandon had seen to spot him so quickly.
"Where is she?" he asked even before he got to the counter. "Why did you talk to me?"
The green man turned to smile sickly at him. "You've come a little earlier than I expected."
"Tell me." Brandon couldn't physically threaten him, but that didn't mean he couldn't be threatening at all.
"Don't worry about your mum. It's too late; she's already gone."
Fear clawed its way up from Brandon's stomach to his throat, making it impossible to speak. So they did do something to her? What could he possibly do if they had?
In response, Kin switched the direction of the tunnel, causing all of the material to be thrown at the floor with scary speed.
"What the hell do you think you were doing?" demanded a big kid Brandon sort of recognized. He looked like he was sixteen or seventeen.
"You'll kill somebody," was Kin's answer.
"If somebody gets hit then it's their own fault!" retorted the big kid. He slammed one fist into his open other hand with a startling clank. So he was a texture absorber, or something.
"Fine." Within seconds the wind tunnel was back, this time pointed directly at the kid.
Suddenly Kin was gone and his tunnel started to spin around the room dangerously. Brandon looked around to see where he had gone, and he discovered him on the floor ten or twelve feet away, pinned to the ground. He recognized the boy pinning him as Will Maximoff, a speedy. He must have been moving fast to knock Kin to the ground like that, but if anyone could it would be Will.
There was another minute or so of chaos as the twister raced around the room and people, Brandon included, tried to get out of its way. Finally Kin got a hand free and brought it down the same way he had before.
"Stupid idiot!" yelled a girl Brandon didn't recognize. She was talking to Will, thankfully. Some others swore at him, and he jumped up and went somewhere so fast that no one had enough time to figure out where that was.
At this point Brandon had to admit that maybe his mother was right after all. He was the only one there without a power, and if anyone was going to use their power against him it was going to be someone from the Heap. These were the kids who had effectively lost both of their parents, after all, even if it was just because neither of their parents was a mutant. A lot of them were unstable.
As he walked the block and a half to his house he started to realize what his mom had been talking about. It wasn't that her life outside had been a whole lot better than Kin's; it was that kids become part of where they live. Brandon had lived his whole life in the barrow as far he knew, and he couldn't imagine living anywhere else. He assumed that since the other kids had lived outside for a long time they would remember it and wish they were still there, but they couldn't imagine living anywhere else any more than he could. They had already become part of the barrow, and most likely part of the Heap. Hadn't Kin been coming back there ever since he had lived there? He had never thought about it before, but there was no real reason for him to have been coming back the whole time. He didn't have any good friends there or anything.
He stopped at the corner and turned around, wondering whether Kin had followed him out. He hadn't. Was it because he hadn't noticed that Brandon left? Or was it because he didn't want to leave, even after what had already happened?
"What's the matter, boy?" asked a voice behind him, "Afraid of it, are you?" It was a distinctive voice, and he had clicked it into place by the time he turned around to face the man. Mr. Toadstool.
"What's it matter?"
"There's no need to take that kind of tone. I was just wondering. They're all mutants, after all..."
Brandon put as much disdain into his voice as he could. "They're in the barrow. Everyone here is a mutant."
"Oh. Have you gotten some power, then?"
His cheeks started to turn a little red despite himself. He hadn't been thinking about the fact that he was the only flat, he told himself, but it was no use.
"You just left there, didn't you? Couldn't handle it? A little bird says they finally pulled down the last of the lighting. It must have been scary with all that metal flying around."
He couldn't quite believe that Mr. Toadstool would know that. There had always been rumors that he was telepathic, but they were usually followed by somebody scoffing. Could it be true?
"Of course I'm telepathic. You didn't know that?" He smiled sickly.
"What!"
The green man laughed. "You don't have to worry so. I can read your face, boy, not your mind."
Brandon's ears burned. What could he say to that? Why was this man so horrible, anyway? What had HE ever done to him?
"Look, you know about the rebellion." It wasn't a question, but he was looking intently at Brandon, so he nodded in response. "I'm part of it. Would you like to help us?"
He gaped. What else could he do?
"I know about your mum. And I know Mr. Eye's methods with the agents; she won't last a month."
Terror flooded Brandon's stomach despite him. How could the man know about his mother? How could he know about the nickname for Mr. Summers? And if he knew that much, could the rest have been true too? He didn't want to think about it.
"My point is that you may have a chance to help your mother and get back at the people who did your dad, too. See, I work for a little different part of the rebellion than Mr. Summers. Have you heard of Magneto?"
He thought he recognized the name, but he wasn't sure. In any case it sent a shiver up his spine. It was the way the green man said it, the way he whispered it. If you whispered in the barrow it was probably because you would be arrested for speaking aloud, and if anyone was so powerful that just speaking their name would get you arrested... "Who is he?"
"He doesn't live in this barrow or any other. The only one, maybe." His eyes held Brandon's. They told him clearly that this Magneto was a mutant, and a very powerful one. "Everyone reports to him, or at least everyone used to. In the last few years certain mutants have gotten a touch greedy." He knew immediately that one of those 'certain mutants' was Mr. Eye. Could it possibly have been that Toadstool was a teep for real? He wondered, but the man kept speaking and he couldn't help but pay attention. "Those mutants have taken matters into their own hands, and have recruited many mutants without consulting the Outsider. Most of these are now dead. What we need is to put the reins back into HIS hands."
Questions raced through Brandon's brain. Was it even possible that all of it was true? Was it possible that there could have been a mutant who lived outside the barrow, who controlled the rebellion? Foremost, though, was one question that he just couldn't leave unanswered: why was this man telling him, of all people?
"Why me?"
The man grinned at him. He always looked like an alligator or some other reptile when he did that. "Many reasons. You're smart, for one thing. You're smart enough to see through sparkling Mr. Eye. You're smart enough to realize that there's more to life than the barrow, something no young mutant realizes."
"I knew it! You are telepathic!"
"No," said the man, shaking his head. "I don't have to be able to read minds. I read people."
"You lie!"
Mr. Toadstool grinned again. "Do I? You're a right mine of information. You miss your dad; that's the first thing I see. Next, you think a hell of lot more than the others your age. You just sit and think, don't you? The other obvious thing is that you wish you had powers like the others. You hate the Heap, and that's why; you know you're smarter than those kids, but any one of them could kill you. It's not fair, is it?"
Brandon absolutely couldn't believe his ears.
"Furthermore, you hate your little friend who controls the wind. You don't believe you will ever be a mutant."
"That's not true! You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" He refused to believe that it was true, even though he knew somewhere in himself that it was.
"You're smarter than all of them, Brandon. Think about it; I know you'll see that everything I have told you is the truth."
"Go away!"
"Very well, but in five or six hours you'll want to talk to me again. I'll be at the pub." He gave a mocking half-salute, pushed past Brandon, and walked away.
"What?" asked Brandon quietly as he stared after the green man. After he disappeared from view Brandon turned around, shook his head, and walked to his house.
His house wasn't comforting like he thought it would be. His mom was already gone, so it was too silent, too dark. He flipped on the main light but it didn't help. It was too CALM. He would just have to wait until his mom arrived. Then he would tell her all about the weird meeting with Mr. Toadstool and she would make him feel better. He flopped himself on the couch and glanced over at the useless TV.
Would it be right to tell Mom, if any of what the man said was true? If Mr. Eye really was taking over the rebellion and sending people out to be killed, wouldn't it be better off for him not to tell her? It was very tempting to believe at least that much, that Mr. Eye was doing things wrong, that it was his fault Dad had died.
He burst into tears, to his shame. He thought horrible deaths at Mr. Eye and wiped his eyes furiously. There was no reason to believe Toadstool, but that didn't him any less certain that the man had been right about that part at least. And if he was right about that part then who was to say that his mother wasn't about to die, that she didn't need his help? What if this Magneto guy could save her and get them out of the barrow? If anyone could do it it would be someone who had managed to stay out of it the whole time, right?
'You don't believe you will ever be a mutant.' That was what he had said. Brandon wondered. He had long wished that his body would hurry up and change, to make his mutations come to the surface. How could he not, when everyone else already had their powers? For years there had been older kids, kids like Chloe and Stephanie Erickson, who had lived in the barrow but who hadn't had powers. Now, though, all of them had changed, and many more kids had come to the barrow BECAUSE they had powers. Now the only others without powers were little kids. One eight-year-old, Tommy, was the only other kid over the age of five without any powers. He knew he had heard why that was. He thought about it for a few seconds, then he remembered something his dad had told him once a couple of years before. That was the answer. 'Your mother was pregnant with you when they created the barrows and forced everyone to move into them. You were the last child born in this barrow for a long time, because many families were broken up, and even when they weren't - when both the husband and the wife were mutants - they didn't want to have children in this place. Many people in fact said they COULDN'T have children in this place. We tried, and failed. You might have had a little brother or sister, if not for this place.' At the time it had seemed important only because he had not known that he might have had a little brother or sister, and he regretted not having one. Now, though, it meant much more.
Thinking about it was too painful, so he decided not to. He shook himself off and remembered what he had been thinking before.
What had Toadstool been talking about? Had he only pointed out that Brandon wasn't a mutant to make him mad, or was there a real reason? Why would he have asked for his help at all if he didn't know something? Could the man have known a way to make his mutations come forward?
As soon as he thought of the possibility his heart rate sped up. It made sense. The way he taunted him...Not that Brandon knew how it was possible to draw out a mutation. But that didn't mean it was impossible. And who would know if not Magneto and the people running the rebellion? Especially considering that Brandon couldn't have been THAT far from becoming a mutant on his own. Or could he? Of the mutants who didn't already have their powers as kids, most girls got them at eleven or twelve, but most boys got them at thirteen or fourteen. And who was to say he would ever become a mutant? One girl, Marina, had stayed in the barrow until she was eighteen, then had left. The army wouldn't even have let her if she was a mutant. What if he was another Marina? He would never be able to get back at the people who killed his dad, then.
He was thinking too hard, he decided suddenly. 'You just sit and think, don't you?' had been what Toadstool had said. What he needed to do was just not think about anything for a little while, just until his mom came back. He went into his mom's room and grabbed the old notebook off of her desk. He took it back to his bed and turned it on. It wasn't very good for games - it crashed a lot - but at the moment he didn't feel like coming up with his own game, so he opened up the little solitaire program and started a game.
As suspected, the program crashed fifteen minutes into his game. He turned the notebook off and back on, then started a new game.
The second time it crashed he was almost thankful, since he had just lost anyway.
Four hours passed before Brandon thought to check the clock. When he did he started to become anxious that his mother wasn't back yet. On the other hand, she did say it would be three or four hours. There was no reason to be worried yet.
Half an hour later Brandon suddenly thought of what Toadstool had told him at the end of their meeting. 'Very well, but in five or six hours you'll want to talk to me again.' Why five or six hours? Did he somehow know that Mom was supposed to be coming home after four hours, and that she wouldn't? His blood ran cold. What if they had done something to her? The man had been so confident that he would come back.
Suddenly he had to know. He had to know if they had done something to her. If they had he would find a way to stop them and do whatever it took to make it right.
He was out the door and running down the street in the space of a couple of heartbeats. Had he been lying the whole time? Could he and his boss have been sabotaging the rebellion? Could they have been working with the humans?
As he rounded the corner where the meeting had happened his confusion multiplied. Why would he have come? Why would he have talked to Brandon? It made no sense if he was part of the rebellion and even less sense if he was trying to stop the rebellion. He had to know. He had to know why Toadstool had talked to him.
When he got to the pub he didn't hesitate to go in even though he wasn't allowed and had never gone in before. He wondered whether someone would kick him out as soon as he got inside, but no one did. No one cared about the rules except the soldiers; if he didn't make himself obvious to any of them he should be fine.
It took exactly one second for him to spot the green man once he was actually inside. He was in a corner with no one close by him. He was flicking out his tongue at something eight or ten feet away on the counter; that was probably what Brandon had seen to spot him so quickly.
"Where is she?" he asked even before he got to the counter. "Why did you talk to me?"
The green man turned to smile sickly at him. "You've come a little earlier than I expected."
"Tell me." Brandon couldn't physically threaten him, but that didn't mean he couldn't be threatening at all.
"Don't worry about your mum. It's too late; she's already gone."
Fear clawed its way up from Brandon's stomach to his throat, making it impossible to speak. So they did do something to her? What could he possibly do if they had?