Tremor Read Free Page A

Meredith had encountered only two people with second-pulse potential: her own son, Dylan, and Faith Daniels.
    Dylan flew up to the landing and rested his elbows on the rail.
    â€œAssessment,” Meredith said. It was not a question but a command.
    Dylan shifted back and forth, scratched the back of his neck as the black T-shirt he wore folded up along his bicep.
    â€œIt didn’t go as well as I’d hoped,” he admitted. “Her powers are off the charts as usual. And she’s not only overcoming five drifters, she’s controlling them. She’s holding them in place with her mind even while they’re trying to escape. She’s shutting them down. It’s incredible. I don’t know how she does it, and she still won’t tell me.”
    â€œI know how she does it.”
    Dylan looked at his mom while she stared at the metal doors of the meat locker.
    â€œAre you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?”
    â€œShe’s not upset, Dylan. She’s furious. There’s a difference.”
    â€œEmotions haven’t got anything to do with power.”
    Meredith almost smiled, but not quite. Is my son really this naïve?
    â€œYou’re just not angry enough,” she said. “And you probably never will be.”
    â€œWhat’s that supposed to mean?”
    Meredith sighed deeply.
    â€œHow long have second pulses been understood? Twenty years? Less? We think we know the powers we possess, but what do we really know? Maybe Faith’s second pulse is more highly evolved, or maybe the force of her emotions is like a witches’ brew, altering the way her system operates. The truth is, we don’t know; and since we’re not in a laboratory with lots of free time on our hands, I’m going with rage. She’s an angry girl out for blood. It’s having an effect.”
    Dylan was feeling, as was often the case, that his mom didn’t appreciate his talents and intellect.
    â€œShe wouldn’t even be here if I hadn’t spent all those months training her.”
    â€œYou’re a good teacher,” Meredith agreed. “No . . . you’re a great teacher. But the fundamental question remains: do you have enough to fight for?”
    Dylan ran a hand through waves of black hair in frustration and then ticked off the score.
    â€œClara Quinn killed Faith’s best friend in cold blood. Her Neanderthal brother murdered ten drifters without batting an eye, and two of them were Faith’s parents. If they could find you they’d kill you, too. Trust me; I’ve got plenty to fight for.”
    Meredith raised her eyebrows and turned to her son. Are you sure about that?
    Times like these Dylan wished Hawk were there to defend him. Outside of Faith, he was Dylan’s closest friend and confidant. Hawk was younger, scrappier, goofier, and also the smartest guy he’d ever met. A guy like that could be useful when being undermined by your own mother, but it was way too dangerous in the training area for a guy as small as Hawk without even a single pulse to protect him. And besides, he was on a scouting mission with Clooger anyway. Last he’d heard they were somewhere near Denver, a thousand miles away.
    â€œWhat do we know for certain about the second pulse?” Meredith asked.
    â€œVery rare,” Dylan said. He understood from experience that it didn’t matter if the complete answer was obvious. His mother wanted to hear it anyway. “We can move things, including ourselves, by thinking about them. That’s the first pulse, which is more common. We’ve got a dozen single-pulse drifters. A second pulse gives us the power to deflect things coming at us—a wall we’re flying into or a semitrailer being thrown at us—so, in theory, we can’t be harmed.”
    â€œAnd how many of you are there?”
    â€œTwo on our side—me and Faith—and three on their side: Gretchen, Wade,