“What do you mean?” Sloan asked him pointedly.
“I mean, we don’t know what her gift would have been like had she never suffered the malarial exposure. I’m not the doctor here, but it makes sense,” Creed shrugged.
“Creed, you may be onto something.” Sloan’s steel-gray eyes glistened with intensity. “Alik, when you went through your transition, there were no interruptions, right?”
“None remotely like with Evan and Meg,” Farrow answered for him. “I took care of him the whole time myself.”
“She’s right. I was in a good place physically for those few days,” Alik nodded.
“Your gift—the retro-cognition and adrenaline-based physical growth—they are the authentic results of your uninterrupted metamorphosis,” Sloan thought aloud. “Meg has always had problems controlling her evolved gift. They give her migraines—weaken her.”
Creed was watching Sloan closely, hanging on every word. “Yes, she learned how to tap into the emotional connection she felt with me and could ‘refuel’ her energies, but before that using her gift completely drained her.”
“I remember,” Farrow said, nodding.
“So you think that her evolution was affected by the malarial virus leaving her with a flawed gift?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I think,” Sloan was out of her seat pacing the room.
“Oh, shit,” Alik moaned.
“What?” All eyes turned to look at him.
“You remember Cole? Her bloody nose?”
“Yeah, I do remember her getting a bloody nose,” he shook his head confused. “So?”
“So she had just leveled a dozen SWAT guys using her gift—the most powerful mind-meld we had ever seen her do.”
“And the worst thing that happens to her is she gets a nose bleed.” Cole was catching on.
“Before, just working with one person—touching them would knock her out,” Creed was shaking his head.
“How did we never think of this before?”
“It’s not like there are a bunch of metahumans like us walking around for us to compare,” Alik chewed his lip.
“I just didn’t think of it at the time.” Cole shook his head as though scolding himself for missing the obvious.
“So, if Meg’s gift was flawed before, how—?” Farrow frowned.
“What changed?” Alik nodded his head.
Everyone watched Alik’s sharp blue eyes glisten bloodshot and teary. “Arkdone’s perfect concussion.”
“Hmm, that’s an interesting theory,” Sloan nodded.
“That procedure somehow straightened the wrinkles in her psychic abilities. It’s like it rebooted her. She was finally able to function optimally.”
“Shoot, if that machine can fix ‘em, let’s strap Evan’s scrawny ass into it!” Cole rubbed his eyes tiredly.
Sloan and Alik exchanged looks.
Noticing the expressions on their faces, Cole blurted, “Dude, I was just kidding.”
Sloan shrugged, “If we had the capability and the memory loss weren’t a huge side effect, I’d be all for exploring that theory.”
“Wow, tell me you guys weren’t seriously considering that,” Farrow looked suspiciously at the two.
“Just a little punch drunk,” Alik shrugged. “We’re all too tired. My brain is starting to misfire.”
“I agree. We should get some sleep. Who knows what this day will bring.” Sloan mused.
“He was right. We still haven’t solved the puzzle.” Alik sighed. Everyone stayed where they sat, trying to mull over the original question.
Creed rolled the stiffness from his neck. “We still don’t know whether Meg left us intentionally or was taken. If Meg left intentionally, why bother leaving word with Evan to help us escape? What motive would Evan have for wanting us to think Meg left us if she were really taken? And if she were taken, why would Evan have insisted tonight that she left on her own? And why wouldn’t Evan have told us everything that night in Tucumcari to clear his name?”
The room was silent for a moment as Creed’s words sunk in.
“Ow, Dude,” Cole blurted. “You just like blew five of my last six brain cells. I’m running on fumes now, thanks.” He stood, grabbed his empty soda cans and headed into the kitchen.
Sloan yawned deeply, stood and walked duck-footed toward the bedroom she would share with Farrow. “Let’s just sleep on it guys. G’night.” She shuffled a few steps and turned back. “You coming, Farrow?”
“Be there in a minute,” Farrow said, leaning against Alik’s strong shoulder.
Creed kept holding his head, deep in thought, then stood abruptly. “I’m going to take a shower.” He started out the room mumbling something about “motives.”