“You feel that?” Lucas sat upright and gripped the wall.
A distinct rumble shook the old building. Adam stared toward the ground. His legs dangled over the edge and swung faintly on their own. He tried to decide if the motion was real or simply his equilibrium playing tricks on him. No one spoke for a few seconds until the gentle undulation stopped.
“Whoa,” said Megan, “that was cool… was it an earthquake or something?”
“Probably,” said Adam. “Portland is on some kind of fault line. They’re always saying how we’re overdue for the big one.”
“Yeah, that was just massive,” Lucas chuckled. A smattering of car alarms blared in the distance.
Adam snorted and resumed tossing small rocks from the abandoned warehouse’s flat roof into the water. The faraway plinks were consumed in the passing current. The sun had set at least an hour before they’d come up.
Megan sighed. “Why didn’t we get to have capoeira club—”
“Unh-uh,” Adam cut in, waving his finger. “What’s the first rule of capoeira club?”
“Don’t talk about capoeira club…” she huffed back.
“Right,” he grinned. “The twins were busy today. I’m actually glad. Still a little sore from yesterday.” Adam took a larger rock, feeling the twinge in his shoulder muscle as he threw it. “It’s getting dark. Guess we should probably head home so mom doesn’t freak out that we’re out too late. Again.” They stood and jumped down from the short parapet wall surrounding the roof. Their sneakers crunched the weather-worn stones as they made for the access door.
Adam, Lucas, Max, and Gabi had come to the derelict building three or four times a week for much of the summer. The empty shell provided an ideal place for the Guevaras to teach their classmates the dance-like Brazilian ju-jitsu, capoeira. Adam and Lucas volunteered their own hand-to-hand combat training as well. The group quickly evolved into a kind of mixed martial arts sparring club. On days where nobody felt like practicing, they’d come to simply hang out, talking and throwing pebbles toward the water as the city bustled around them.
After a particularly physical match in late June, Adam took a glancing kick to the side of his face. A thin bruise immediately bloomed along his jawline. He’d snuck inside when they got home and tiptoed into his parents’ bathroom to try and hide the evidence. Megan walked in on him dabbing their mother’s concealer on his cheek. She immediately and expertly blackmailed him for her guaranteed silence. After a hasty negotiation, he agreed to take her whenever he and Lucas left home, knowing that his parents certainly wouldn’t approve of capoeira club, and certainly not in a deserted building.
Now ten and a Locke, Megan deftly integrated herself into the group. Her curiosity and lack of fear endeared her to the others despite Adam’s frequent protests of imposition on their social time. She easily mastered a number of simpler capoeira maneuvers as Gabi patiently guided their new junior member. Max began teaching her some Spanish and Portuguese, focusing mostly on curses and insults. Lucas took great pleasure in schooling her in subtle interrogation and emotional analysis, especially knowing that her brother would often be the target.
Without the Guevaras today, the trio clanged down the rusty metal stairs into the warehouse. Vince sat parked below. The nuclear-powered car’s currently electric green paint job was at violent odds with the other drab shades inside the dim building. Lucas hopped into the driver’s seat. Today was his turn. Megan had yelled shotgun on the way down so Adam reluctantly folded his lanky frame into the back seat.
“I hope we get to have one more, you know... meeting before school starts and you guys have to leave,” said Megan. “I think my Aú Fechado is almost perfect, I gotta be able to show them. So where are Maxangabi anyway?” she asked, pulling the seatbelt on.
“Cleaning the Mason’s house top to bottom while Stan’s picking up Nic—” Adam trailed off darkly. “He’s in Paris. Coming home soon I think.”
Even before Lucas’s training, Megan would have been able to read her brother. She sighed heavily and flashed Lucas a glance. Vince’s simulated engine roared to life and they pulled out through the broken rollup door.
“You know Gabi likes you, right?” said Megan.
“Jeez Meg, how would you know that?” Adam cleared his throat and tried to convince himself he hadn’t thought about it. He briefly considered a flat denial, but they’d know he was lying. “Really? You think so, huh? She gave me this!” He arched his back and pulled his shirt up, showing a large foot-shaped bruise where the APHID usually lived. His mind detoured briefly, wistful memories of the two remarkable devices that had been destroyed in as many years.
“You think because she gut-kicked you that she doesn’t like you?” Megan asked. Adam brooded silently in the back seat. She turned around and studied him, her left eyebrow arching up her forehead. “I see. Whatever, Cleopatra… Get it? Cleopatra, queen of de—”
“Yeah, I get it,” Adam interrupted. “Can we talk about something else please?” The brief connection with Gabrielle in South America happened under extreme circumstances while her entire family was on the run and under Trivindico protection. Now that she and her brother had joined the organization, everything was different. They spent nearly every day together over the summer sparring, exploring the city, swimming in the Mason’s pool, and sampling unhealthy American food. She didn’t overtly pursue him, but the pleasantly uncomfortable tension was still there. The sideways glances, the smiles, the way she brushed his forearm with her fingers when they talked… it took considerable concentration to keep his hormones from taking over. And of course, there was Nicole.
The last time he’d seen her was just before she’d gone overseas for the summer. Whatever flicker was left between them, he’d certainly allowed to fizzle out. He had the chance to stop her, or at least say something before she left, anything, but hadn’t taken it. Adam watched her leave without a word, effectively making the decision for both of them. They exchanged a few texts in the months away from headquarters. Most were pleasantries, which office she was currently visiting and where she was going next. He could have found the same information from her itinerary in the main computer.
He eventually came to view his inadvertent decision as a good choice. The right thing to do. Getting involved with someone in the Trivindico is a bad idea. No matter how long I’ve wanted it, no matter how beautiful, smart, funny, and… He shook his head, heading off the same train of thought he’d derailed hundreds of times already. The exercise helped him deal with the Gabi situation as well. Becoming an item with her was a poor choice for all the same reasons. A fleeting romance wasn’t worth becoming distracted, compromised. Megan’s penetrating voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
“So, I know the Guevaras are exchange students,” she said quizzically, “but this is summer break. It’s not like they’re going to school or anything. What’s that all about?”
“Oh, uh… it’s just a cultural exploration,” said Lucas. “You know, experience a different country and customs. That sort of thing.”
Adam smirked as they merged on to the highway. His little sister’s budding logic center sharpened with each passing day. Lucas’s natural instincts were still a step ahead, at least for now. “Stan took them in since he had extra room over the summer,” he added, knowing this was a deception they couldn’t allow her to unravel. Letting her in to capoeira club was one thing, the existence of the Arcanum Trivindico was another.
“Oh, alright,” said Megan, apparently placated. “So, what are we gonna do tomorrow?”
“We need to pack,” said Adam, “Lucas and I leave for school on Monday.” The thought calmed him. Returning to the subterranean sanctuary where they honed their skills as undercover operatives was the singular thought that sustained him. “And remember, not a word about any of this to mom and dad, you promised.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” said Megan, sticking her tongue out. “Besides, like I wouldn’t get in trouble too? Hanging around you punks all month, fighting and breaking into buildings...”
Adam reached forward and squeezed her shoulders over the seat back. She couldn’t see it, but he smiled widely. They arrived home twenty minutes later and Lucas pulled the Camaro into its spot next to the garage.
“I was about to text you,” called Joanne Locke suspiciously from the kitchen. “What have you guys been up to?” Greg sat planted in a large chair facing the television and gave them a jovial nod.
“Just chillin’ at the mall, Mom,” Adam called back as he closed the door behind them.
“I see,” said Joanne, appearing in the living room. “Wish I’d known you were going, Megan needs some new panties for school. Old ones are getting all ratty…”
“Mom!” screamed Megan, affronted. She flashed Lucas a horrified glance. He pursed his lips and remained convincingly silent. She grunted a few unintelligible syllables and bounded up the stairs.
“Everybody wears underwear, right?” said Joanne, shrugging and flashing them a knowing grin. “Did you all get dinner? There’s leftover enchiladas if you want some.”
“Food court,” said Lucas. “Rapid Panda.”
“Alright then, I’m finishing up dishes. Don’t stay up too late.”
The boys flopped onto the couch. Greg sat in the armchair next to them staring at his phone.
“S’up Dad, good day at work?”
“Oh, yes, I suppose so, I’m just going over some…”
Adam glanced absentmindedly at the television opposite them, the brightly-lit advertisement had just been replaced by a dark, grainy video feed with a news ticker at the bottom. His father’s words continued, but Adam now stared, transfixed at the screen. The news anchor’s voice, the volume on the TV too low to hear, was presumably describing what they were seeing. The vantage appeared to come from a helicopter. Its roving searchlight panned slowly around the view below. Adam’s lungs filled to capacity as he gasped. The action started the flow of adrenaline. He sat slowly upright as a cold, prickly sensation ran down his back. Blinking twice rapidly, he forced his ocular implant to capture an image of what he saw.
Some part of him hoped his brain was simply overeager for excitement, linking together details that weren’t really there. The chopper’s camera zoomed in as if he was controlling it and confirmed his growing fear. He reached over and poked Lucas in the ribs, his eyes still locked on the screen. His friend’s reaction was nearly identical. Both boys scooted to the edge of the couch.
“You guys alright?” said Greg, looking over the top of his glasses. “Didn’t think you usually got excited over local news.”
“Yeah, nothing special,” said Adam, fumbling with the remote to power down the television. “Long day. We’re pretty tired, gonna crash. G’night.”
“Is, was that…” said Lucas quietly as they ascended the stairs in a state of forced calm.
Adam’s brain went into overdrive, working through the possibilities of what they saw might mean. He pulled out his Trivindico phone. A few taps on the screen failed to neutralize his suspicion. He swore under his breath as they jostled into his bedroom and locked the door behind. Lucas turned on the television to find most of the local affiliates were now covering the event.
“Switch your phone to commercial carrier. You text Emma, I’ll get the Guevaras. Crap, crap crap…” He felt the bile rising in his throat. His fingers were almost too shaky to tap out the short message.