Chapter 2

Something was wrong when I awoke. Something was out of place. I couldn't figure out what it was though. There was no sound that had awoken me, no light. It was still pitch dark out...

It was still pitch dark out. I opened my eyes wide and looked at my alarm clock – it was steady at 12:07. I was completely rested but I'd only been asleep for roughly 3 minutes. What the...

I claim to be a morning person. I'm usually pretty full of energy when I first wake up. Unfortunately, my brain doesn't always make it. Thinking in the morning is a bad idea anyway. I even think there's a law against it or something. If there isn't, there probably should be.

I was still sped up. I'd never gone back to 'normal' speed last night. I looked at my watch and did some quick calculations – not my best move when I first wake up. Still, I can usually do basic math. I'd been asleep for 9 hours subjective time ... and only 2 to 3 minutes had passed objectively.

A full night's sleep in seconds. I hadn't even known I could sleep while in an accelerated speed zone. Honestly, I hadn't even thought to try it. It just had never occurred to me.

For a second I considered winding back to normal speed and sleeping some more ... but I knew that was a losing idea. I've never had much trouble sleeping but once I'm up, I'm up. There's no rolling over and going back to sleep for me. Usually, I made sure to make enough noise to wake everyone else up too because, hey, if I have to get up shouldn't everyone? It seems fair to me.

I decided to forgo that this time. I can be evil, sometimes cruel and marginally sadistic from time to time but I'm not suicidal. I wake up the house at this time of the morning and there's no way I'm getting out alive. Did I mention that my mother is an assistance district attorney? She knows where to hide the bodies.

So, I needed to do something quiet where there was no chance of waking up the house. There weren't a lot of choices. I could read or ... read. I supposed I could watch television but ... have you looked at early morning television lately? It kind of scares me to think of what demographic the stations are shooting for. So, speed sleeping certainly freed up time ... but what was I going to do with it?

I slowed myself to what I considered normal and then hit the bathroom with it's TICK, TICK, TICKing clock. I hated that clock most of the time. In the mornings, when I was running late, it was a constant reminder that I had more to do than I had time to do it. Now, though, it was my salvation. I depended on that clock to keep me sane.

I checked my watch's second hand against the wall clock's and made sure they were lined up for a full 30 seconds. Then, I synchronized my watch with the wall clock's time. I knew it wasn't perfectly accurate – but I didn't need perfectly accurate. I'd read about clocks that synchronized daily with one of the atomic clocks around the world. I honestly couldn't see the point. At what time did anyone EVER have to be that precise with time?

Well, I guess I was a case in point but I was a very special case. At least, I hoped I was a special case. I hadn't thought of that before but what if there were others out there that could do what I did? I mean, aside from the obvious there was nothing really special about me. What if there were a bunch of people who were speed demons? Maybe there was a whole society out there who were...

Calm. Idle speculation wouldn't solve anything. Until I had proof to the contrary, assume that I was the only speed demon. Watch out for others, though. Just in case.

For most of the next 8 hours, I read. I had only brought my Spanish and Algebra books home, so I studied both of those. There was a new Butcher book I'd bought a few weeks ago ... so I read that. I didn't want to read; I wasn't quite certain what I wanted to do but reading wasn't high on the list. Still, there was little I could do unless I went out running again. That wasn't high on my list either. If I was caught outside the house this late at night I'd be lucky to see daylight until I was 35.

Mom and Dad noticed my nervousness at breakfast but they said nothing. I didn't offer anything so we had an uneasy moratorium brewing. Nevaeh and Andwynn, however, didn't sign to those accords so they were as busy as ever, yapping about everything under the sun. It was about then that I noticed that everything under the sun was severely limited. They talked about school, school-gossip, boys, boys gossip, television shows and boy bands – not necessarily in that order or with that frequency.

For the record, Andwynn was a big 'Big Time Rush' fan (whoever they were) because they were "cute and I can watch them on television and listen to them on my MP3 player". Nevaeh was a big proponent of 'One Direction' (whoever they were) because they were "cute and dreamy and their songs touch my soul". That kind of summarized my two sisters, honestly. Andwynn was very forthright and concrete while Nevaeh was more airy and poetic. Andwynn was more of a problem solver; she itemized, she made lists, she scheduled, while Nevaeh was more artistic, going with the flow, things would resolve themselves and so on.

However, I lied. I know who both of those bands are. I hate them both. Their caterwauling is enough to make me blow chunks. I guess their appeal is a girl thing. I much prefer 'Imagine Dragons' or 'Alex Clare' or even 'Nickelback'. Maybe that's a guy thing.

After breakfast, I did my chores. Saturday was the day when I cleaned up the bathrooms and washed the cars. I considered briefly about speeding up and getting them over with but I honestly couldn't see any upside. It was still going to take me just as long subjectively. Besides, I wanted this to take a long time; I didn't want to have to think about what was coming next.

Finally, the doorbell rang promptly at 11am. I'd been expecting it and it was actually a bit of a relief. I was spending more time trying NOT to think about what was coming and not only wasn't it working but it just seemed to make the day drag. If you don't know what I mean, let's try a little experiment. Right now, don't think about, say, elephants. At all. Just don't think about them. Let me know how that works out for you.

I had just finished washing up after cleaning the cars. I was sitting at the table, eating a banana and trying to read the comic section of the newspaper – and not trying to think of Father John's imminent arrival. Father John had agreed to help me explain to my parents what was going on. Actually, I think he kind of insisted on it. I'm not positive but I think he wanted to make sure that I'd do it.

Fucking priests. I didn't want to do it and as my Dad went to get the door I wondered if I could stay in an accelerated speed zone for a few years. Maybe by then I'd have figured out a good way to break the news to Mom and Dad. "Hey guys ... you're not going to believe this. It's actually really funny ... I can move faster than sound. No. Really. Yes, sonic booms and everything!" Needless to say, I was not ready.

"Father John," I heard my father greet the priest. I began to wonder if I'd suddenly received a shrinking gift to go along with my speed gift. I felt like I was slowly getting smaller. "What a surprise! We weren't expecting you. Did we have a meeting or something?"

I scrunched my face up at that. Okay, so maybe I was supposed to tell them about the meeting. I didn't. I mean, how do you tell your parents that you and Father John wanted to meet with them without spilling what you wanted to meet with them about? I humbly submit to the jury that it can't be done. If you can't admit, you must acquit. I rest my case.

"Reece?" Mother asked me, her left eyebrow raised. "Something you want to tell us?"

Great. I was in for it now. Mother didn't raise her voice around company. She raised her left eyebrow. It was basically a call to pack your bags and run for the hills while you still could ... or hope that the company stayed indefinitely.

"Um, yeah," I stuttered, trying to think up a good excuse. I had nothing. My mind was a complete blank. There was no way I was going to get out of this one. Maybe, just maybe, the truth could set me free. "I asked Father John to meet with us so ... we could go over something that is ... well, it's kind of a miracle, really, when you think about it." When in doubt, exaggerate. Go big or go home. "But ... I couldn't just ... well, I couldn't just tell you about it. I needed ... I needed someone else to..."

"To help him tell you," Father John interrupted. He looked at me with some disappointment. "I thought he'd at least tell you I was coming, if not why."

"How could I tell them?" I asked him in exasperation, my pent up frustration rising to the core. My voice didn't rise, though. Nuh-uh. Remember how Mom didn't raise her voice around company? You think there was any way in hell us kids were going to get away with it? "They'd want to know what it's about and then what do I say?"

"Try the truth, Reece," my Father said, his expression stern. My father was big on the truth – for us. His little white lies to Mom were the stuff of legend.

"I couldn't!" I said. "Look ... this is so ... well, it's unbelievable. I didn't want to tell you at all so ... I told Father John in confession that way he couldn't share it with anyone else. He's the one that convinced me to share it with you. When I agreed I just ... I needed his help. Moral support, you know?"

"So what is it?" Mom asked, still with the raised left eyebrow. I sure hoped it didn't get stuck like that. "What is so important and so unbelievable that you couldn't tell us? Did you get a girl in trouble?"

I raised my eyes to the ceiling and sighed. God was evidently busy helping someone else at that time because lightning didn't strike me. That immediately had me thinking about the Flash – the comic book hero – and I instantly thanked God for his benevolence and murmured a quiet prayer; that was all I needed, for lightning to strike me and make me even faster.

If God wasn't going to help me, maybe his minion would. I looked to Father John for help but he just stared back at me expectantly. Fucking priest.

"I-can-move-really-fast-faster-than-you-can-see," I blurted. No, I hadn't slipped into a speed zone. I really could talk like that. Further, I really did talk like that – especially when I was nervous and about to get punished. Or nervous and about to go out for ice cream. Or nervous and ... well ... you get the picture.

"Say that again," Mother said slowly and distinctly. The eyebrow was definitely in danger of permanently affixing to her hair line. She should have someone look at that before it's too late. "Only say it slower."

I sighed and closed my eyes. Have you ever noticed how closing your eyes seems to make things easier? Nothing is really easier; as a matter of fact, it's even more dangerous because now you can't see what's coming for you. Still, perception is reality.

"I can move really fast," I said slowly, enunciating each individual letter. "I can move faster than the human eye can see."

There was a pregnant pause. "I don't get it," my Dad finally spoke up. "What's the punch line?"

Ba-dump-bump ... I'll be here all week. Remember to tip your waitresses.

"No punch line, Dad," I said quietly, opening my eyes to look at him. "I can actually do what I said. I can ... well, I can move ... it might be better if I explained it to you from the beginning."

So, I did. I started with Andwynn's date with David Kessler and how she'd had to walk home (something that Mom and Dad hadn't known about because neither Andwynn nor I had told them; when in doubt spread the blame as thin as possible – misery loves company and all that jazz... ) and then moved on to how David was bragging about tagging her and how she sucked in bed. I then moved into my revenge plan and how it had gone horribly wrong when the one guy I was waiting for was joined by two of his friends. I spoke about how Mark had hit me with a big log and how I'd closed my eyes waiting for him to hit me again. Only, he didn't.

I talked to them about how I'd thought I was stopping time but quickly realized that I was actually just 'speeding up'. I explained my theory about the 'speed zones' and how I could speed myself up to the point that no one could see me. I talked about using the speed to peek in the girl's locker room – all of the times I'd done it which earned me a reproving glare from Father John ... but he should have thought of that before he hung me out to dry here. I even told them about the second fight with the three and how I'd only sped up just enough to give me an advantage. Then I told them about last night and saving the rape victim.

"Wait a minute!" Dad exclaimed. "That was on the news this morning. No one could say how the woman got to the hospital or who had left a note telling the officers how to find the rapist. Are you trying to say that was you?"

"Guilty," I said.

"Preposterous," Mom replied. At least her eyebrow was down – but her voice was getting high in front of company. That couldn't be a good sign.

"I assure you, Janice, he's not making this up," Father John said solemnly. Sure, now come to my defense after I'd done all the heavy lifting. "I didn't believe at first either ... who would? After he demonstrated what he could do, though ... well, I still didn't believe it but I couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation. He really can ... move incredibly fast."

Which led to me explaining how I'd moved the candle to prove myself to Father John. We were in church and I'd spoken to Father John in confidence – in the confessional, really, so that he couldn't say anything to anyone – because I was feeling a little over-whelmed by everything. I figured, confess my sins – I had just pulled a peeping tom act in the girl's locker room – and give him all the rest. Let him sort it out and get back to me. Only he'd thought I was pranking him and called me on it.

"So that's why David, Mark and Bart couldn't hit you," Andwynn said with a gasp.

Andwynn? My face must have betrayed my shock because all of a sudden all of the grownups were staring at her and Nevaeh, who were lurking surreptitiously in the hallway.

"What?" Andwynn said defensively. "No one told us to leave."

Shit. I had agreed to tell my parents ... but not Andwynn and certainly not Nevaeh. This was too big to tell them. It wasn't that I didn't trust them but ... well ... my sisters and I didn't always get along. I mean, there was never the knock-down, drag out fights I've heard about from some of my friends but we weren't what you'd call best friends; at least, not most of the time. After all, it was my sworn duty to make their lives a living hell – and their jobs to do the same to me. I got that. I was comfortable with it. So, telling them something like this and giving them carte blanch to torment me? Not high on my list of things to do.

Besides, it actually kinda was that I didn't trust them. I certainly didn't want this to get out to their friends ... and by their friends I mean all the kids in school and whatever newspaper reporters happened to be lurking around.

Unfortunately, the cat was out of the bag now and I wasn't sure what to do. This wasn't in any scenario I'd planned for last night. I'd been so worried about how I was going to tell Mom and Dad that I hadn't even thought my sisters might eavesdrop.

Mom's eyes clearly informed Andwynn and Nevaeh that they were going to have a long, long conversation in the near future and there was going to be some one-way heated discussion about eavesdropping and the privacy of others. The way I felt right then, I was kind of hoping she'd let me in on it. This was not something that was for their ears.

"I take it you can prove this?" Dad said, skeptically. That's my dad; faithless. It was times like this that I wondered how Dad made it to Church. Maybe God sent him a burning bush or something.

I just shrugged my shoulders. THIS I had planned on. I knew that eventually they'd need to see proof, especially Dad. He was the kind of guy that you could tell him the sun had risen and the sky was blue and he'd want to go out and make sure.

"Sure," I sighed. "Take a look at the closet doorway over there. Don't look away."

I waited until I was sure they were looking and then sped up to my sub-Mach 1 speed. I walked over to the closet and opened the door, then slowed down to normal speed. "Hi Mom, Dad," I waved. I held it long enough for the shock to register on their faces and then sped up time and walked back to my seat. When I was once again sitting comfortably – albeit with my left ankle now on my right knee – I slowed back down. "See?"

The glazed looks must be shock. Both my Mom and Dad had them and my Dad was teetering, about to fall. Strangely, Father John also had that glazed, empty look on his face. I hadn't expected that. I guess, though, that it would take some getting used to. I know for a fact that I was still reeling and I was the one moving at just beneath the speed of sound.

I sped up and caught my Dad before he could fall, speeding down and guiding him back into a chair. As I sat back down, I noticed that Andwynn and Nevaeh were looking a bit the worse for wear as well. They had gone pale and were visibly trembling; the demonstration had shook them up and they looked like they might faint.

Good. I wasn't going to help them. Let this be a lesson on what happens when you eavesdrop.

Everything kind of went downhill from there. For the next two and a half hours my parents, their faces ashen, started asking me questions and I practically had to repeat the whole story from the beginning ... several times. My dad re-enacted how Bart had held me during the fight and I re-enacted how I'd gotten out – though not speeded up anywhere near as quickly as I had been. I still wasn't sure about the whole force equals mass times acceleration thing and I didn't want to hurt him. As it was, he was rubbing his arms when I slowed back down. Even Nevaeh and Andwynn jumped in, asking questions and getting some clarification. At this point, I had nothing to hide so I answered everything as best as I could.

"Why didn't you want to tell us this, Reece?" Mother was in tears. I couldn't tell if she was crying because her son was now a freak or if she was hurt because I had gone to Father John instead of coming to her and Dad. More than likely, it was a little of both. Or maybe a lot of both. This wasn't a conversation you ever expect to have with your kids ... and it wasn't a conversation a kid was ever expecting to have with their parents. I think, all things considered, I'd rather have had THE sex talk with them, instead. It would have been a lot less painful ... and Mom likely wouldn't have cried. My Mom was an assistant district attorney. She argued, cajoled, pleaded and did indignant like nobody's business. She NEVER cried, though.

"I didn't want to tell anyone," I replied morosely. "I was afraid of what would happen if others found out. I was worried they might try to take me away to experiment on me or maybe even try to get at me by hurting one of you. I was feeling so lost and over-whelmed, though, that I had to talk to somebody. I had to make sure I wasn't going crazy or something. I was feeling guilty about what I'd done to David, Bart and Mark and ... I just wanted someone to forgive me ... so ... I went to Father John. I figured I was safe because he wouldn't be able to reveal anything from the confessional."

I turned a bitter eye to Father John. "Then he guilted me or sweet-talked me or something into agreeing to tell you..."

Cue the priest. He'd been remarkably silent until now. I think it's something you learn in priest school or somewhere; how to let the situation build to a crisis point and then step in. That way, anything said seemed like the voice of reason.

Either that or God really mojoed them up. Fucking priests.

"Janice, Ian ... you have to look at this from the proper perspective," Father John said solemnly. Trust me, Priests can do solemn. You ain't seen solemn until you've seen priest solemn. "This is a gift from God. We can't know His plan ... but He's given this to your son. We have to help him and protect him as best we can."

"That's also why I think you need to convince him to go somewhere where he can get help," Father John continued, the rat bastard. He knew how I felt about this. No way was I living my life in a fucking test tube. "He can do amazing things but who is to say that he's not hurting himself or those around him by 'speeding up' as he calls it? He says he feels fine ... but how can we know for sure? Maybe this ... thing, whatever it is, is killing him. I think, if we find a reputable scientist, we might get some answers."

God help them, Mom and Dad were both nodding, buying into this hook, line and sinker ... only I was the sinker. "Of course, Father," Mom said. Dad wasn't looking quite as convinced ... but it was a done deal. Mom had spoken. I might have mentioned it before but Mom is an assistant district attorney. She argues for a living. No one wins an argument with Mom. "We have to do what we can to protect him..."

"No." I'd said it softly, but Mom's voice trailed off and all eyes were suddenly upon me. No one wins an argument with Mom ... but damn it, I was going to try. This was my very life we were talking about and I couldn't just stand idly by while it was decided for me. "I didn't want to tell you guys because I worried that you'd disown me or kick me out or something. When it was presented to me, though, I understood the necessity of telling you and I bought into it. However, that's as far as I'm willing to go. I'm not going to become some lab experiment where people get to poke and prod me all the time. I won't do it."

Dad looked almost relieved at my words. Not because he agreed with me but because he was on fairly solid ground here. "Of course you'll do it if we say you'll do it," he said firmly, his face a thunder cloud. Having a son running at super speed rattled him but parental rights were something he could relate to. That's Dad; if you get out of your depth, flail around for solid ground to stand on. "We know what's best for you..."