Page 29 of The Dysasters
“Uh, Nighthawk, we are freaks. Why do you think you can see so well at night? Why do you think you threw around a tornado like a gigantic, deadly football? We. Are. Freaks. Doctor Rick did something to us. On a genetic level. Your public school education obviously isn’t allowing the gravity of that biology to sink in, so let me educate you.We might not even be human.”
“First, I’m good at biology—public school or not. And I do get how bizarre this is, but tell me this, what good does it do to wallow in pity and call ourselves freaks?”
She stopped pacing and fisted her hands on her hips. “I don’t wallow.”
“I thought you said you were honest.”
Foster frowned. “I’m wallowing?”
“Totally.”
She cocked her head to the side, studying him. “Why aren’t you wallowing?”
He shrugged. “I’m a ‘glass half full’ kind of guy. Sure, we’re science experiments, but I’ve always loved my night vision. Maybe once we figure out all these blurry, water-damaged parts we’ll love being, uh”—Tate looked down at the letter. Finding the right part, he read aloud—“‘linked.’”
“You really think so?”
“Yep. Why didn’t you tell me you have the night vision thing, too?”
Foster lifted a shoulder. “I don’t, um…”
“Trust people because they suck,” Tate finished for her.
She flashed him a hint of a real smile. “Ten points for the brunette.”
“Could we make another deal?”
Her smile faded like a snuffed candle. “Depends.”
“How about you stop keeping things from me and I promise anything you say to me goes into the vault.”
Foster furrowed her brow as her green-eyed gaze went to the Batcave. “Vault?”
“Not a literal vault. It’s what my g-pa and I always say when we tell each other a secret. It goes into the vault and it doesn’t come out unless the person who put it in there, which would be you, says it’s okay to tell someone else.”
“What if it’s never okay to tell someone else?”
“Then it stays in the vault,” he said.
“You’re serious?”
“G-pa and I never joke about the vault. It’s for real.”
Foster blew out a long breath. “All right. Deal. But if you mess that up, even once—I’ll never—”
“I won’t,” Tate interrupted. “I swear on the memory of my mom and dad.”
Foster’s eyes widened. “I believe you.” She drew another deep breath, likeshe was getting ready to dive into a pool, and then blurted. “I have this Jedi mind trick thing I can do.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means if I concentrate, or maybe want it bad enough, I can make people do what I want them to do.”
“Like Yoda? Seriously?”
“Like Yoda. Seriously.” She picked at her fingernails. “I used it on you accidentally when I told you to go the fuck to sleep in the truck. But I didn’t know it would work. It never did before—not really. Then while you were asleep I went into the Quickie Mart and there was this bubba in there. He was watching the news and we were on it.”
“What!”
