Raging Sea (Undertow, #2)

“Sammy. It’s so good to see you.”


He struggles to look at me as his whole body shakes. When the gangs back home found out that he was half Alpha, they beat him and left him for dead. He was once a promising basketball star; now he can’t feed himself. He can’t talk, but he gives me a little smile to let me know he remembers me.

“They told me that we owe you our freedom,” Terrance says.

“I’m working on getting us all out of here,” I whisper.

He sighs, as if hope has let him down so many times, he can’t stand when it’s in the room.

“Take care of my son,” he says, then walks back through the doors.

“C’mon,” I say. I push Samuel until we are standing in front of the group. “Children, this is Samuel Lir. He is one of us. His father is Sirena, and his mother is human. Sammy here is going to keep us company while we train.”

“That’s not all,” Spangler interrupts. “That’s not the end of the surprises. I have presents.”

The doors open, and a parade of scientists in lab coats stream through, carrying large silver cases and video equipment. They put everything down at Spangler’s feet, then go to work setting up cameras and tripods. As they finish, Spangler unlocks the cases, revealing a collection of gloves identical to mine. He removes one and holds it out for all the children to see.

“Fathom brought one for each of you,” he promises.

Fathom enters and the children thank him, then they crowd around Spangler, reaching for the glove like it’s a bag of free candy.

“Now, now, let’s line up and—”

Fathom tries to catch my eye but I refuse to look at him. His presence makes me angry. I can’t tell whether giving the children gloves or the person who brought them is more disgusting.

“Wait!” I shout.

Spangler gives me a wary look, and I’m chilled.

“What is it, Ms. Walker?”

“If you put one on, you need to know that it doesn’t come off.”

One of the teen girls steps forward. I think her name is Abigail. She looks confused. “Ever?” she asks.

“I don’t know about ever, but I think so. When you go out into the real world, people will see it, and everyone will know you are different. People may react with fear and anger because you have it on. Lots of people don’t understand what we are, and it scares them—”

“Because of the sickness,” Spangler interrupts. “But soon they’ll understand that you aren’t contagious. When that happens, you’ll all be seen as the heroes you are. Now, there’s something that I didn’t mention. The Oracles will take away your migraines.”

Chloe takes my hand. The rings around her eyes are deep and purple. She must have been up all night with headaches.

“Is that true?” she asks. There is so much hope in her eyes, and why shouldn’t there be? If I had known that I could be free from my pain if I wore a cool metal glove that gave me superpowers for the rest of my life, I would have leaped at the chance.

I nod, defeated.

“I want mine!” Riley cheers, pushing to the front of the line.

Spangler hands him one, and the boy turns it over and over again in his hands, studying the metal and the carvings. He fumbles with it, trying to put it on the wrong hand, until Doyle flips it over and closes it with a snap. It locks itself in place, and Riley’s eyes glow like someone turned a strobe light on inside his skull. A second later, his hand joins the laser light show.

“Whoa!” he says. “That’s crazy.”

Scientists buzz around him, taking pictures and videos. One waves a machine that looks like a Geiger counter over the boy. Its needle bounces around wildly.

“How do you feel, Riley?” Spangler asks.

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Please try,” Spangler says. “We’re making history here. There are lots of people who would like to know everything they can about this experience. It could lead to other kinds of discoveries.”

“It’s like being dropped into a bottle of soda,” I say.

Riley smiles at me.

“Yeah, just like she said.”

The other children chatter excitedly.

“My head doesn’t hurt at all!” he continues. “Just like you said, Donovan.”

Spangler taps on his tablet, and suddenly Riley’s eyes open wide with surprise.

“I hear a voice!”

I hear one too. It’s telling me to take the shot, but both Spangler and Doyle are watching me like hawks. Fathom takes a step closer to me, presumably to have a better position if he has to attack me.

“What does the voice say, Riley?” one of the scientists probes.

“It’s whispering to me, asking me if I want it to do anything. I swear it’s coming from the pool underneath us. Who is it, Lyric?”

Everyone turns to me.