The Boy Who Could Fly

It started innocently enough. A spark off the tip of his fingers, some mild charge Liam thought was static electricity. The carpet in his room was perfect to build up such a charge, shocking him when he reached for the doorknob or touched something that was metal. He had just celebrated his twelfth birthday when it began, and by the time he was thirteen, he knew it was much more than that and he was able to start small fires. He would sneak into the junkyard down the road, find a place hidden from sight where he would amaze himself at how easy it had gotten. He merely needed to hold his fingers an inch or so away and think it. Fire. A white-hot arc and the wood or paper would burst into flame.

But over the year, keeping his secret from others, Liam began to struggle with another one. One that he feared revealing, more so than his ability to set fire to something. He’d seen enough horror movies to know revealing his secret would be a bad idea. But this other one was worse. Far worse, for he saw how one of the boys in his school was bullied. The name calling, the knocking of books from his hands or the tripping and pushing. And always with the name calling to go with it. Faggot. Queer. Cocksucker. It scared him how he considered those labels, what they meant, and how, when he looked at Jeremy, Ricky or Frank, he thought of those things. He knew how it applied to him, and he lay awake at night, letting arcs pass between his fingertips, worrying about doing something that would reveal himself to others.

He turned Fourteen, celebrating with his friends and family. He got a small trail bike, one his father bought from a guy in Juneau. It was a crude thing, with a loud muffler and stiff suspension, but it afforded him a freedom his bicycle never could. The party had been perfect, with other presents and a cake, blazing with fourteen candles, and his friends singing Happy Birthday off-key. Frank and Ricky were at his party and he tried not to look at them differently from the others, but it grew more and more difficult. He felt lonely, a sense of isolation he knew was more in his mind than any real physical thing.  But he was different, and he struggled with how to deal with it.

A couple of days later, after witnessing another bulling at school, he was riding his bike over some trails near his home when it happened the first time. This uncontrollable spark from him hands. The arch hit his bike, killing the motor and he coasted to a stop at the bottom of a hill. The bike was difficult to restart, but eventually it fired up, spurting and misfiring at first. That night at the dining table, his parents asking him what was wrong. They had seen his mood changes and knew something was bothering him. He kept saying nothing, denying any problem, but then arcs shot from his fingertips setting the wood table on fire.

William, Liam’s dad put it out with a fire extinguisher then they sat around the living room, all of them scared.

“Liam? How?” Mary, his mother asked, her voice quivering.

“I don’t know.”

“How long has this been going on?” William asked.

“Since I was thirteen, but today is the first time I couldn’t control it.”

“What? You’ve been doing this for a year?” Mary exclaimed.

“What mom. Was I supposed to come tell you the first time it happened? What would have done? Had me shipped off…”

“No, but…”

“Okay, let’s calm down. Liam, I know you thought keeping this a secret was best, but…if you can’t control it,” William interrupted.

“I don’t know why this is happening,” said Liam, on the verge of tears.

“Is there something else? Something that might be affecting you in some way?” Mary asked.

“No,” Liam lied.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. Don’t tell anyone. No one” his father repeated, looking at his mother, knowing he meant her sister. “And Liam, you’ll be as careful as you can. Control it the best you can. Maybe it’s because you’re maturing, going through physical changes and…I don’t know. Just be careful. Okay, son?”

“Yes, dad,” Liam replied, glad his father was being calm and not freaking out.

But Liam couldn’t control it. He lit a desk on fire at school, getting expelled. He set the trash on fire in a barrel at the service station while his mother filled with gas. It scared him to think what could have happened if he’d been close to the pump. He became afraid to ride his bike and holed up in his room. At night, sitting outside on a rock, he would let his fingers arc, lighting up the area around him, feeling some release that calmed him, made him able to sleep when he finally went inside.

William grew worried, more than he let them see, and he went to their family doctor. He had been a friend of his father’s, even serving together in the Navy. After years of service in the Navy as a doctor, Dr. Kerry had retired early, moved back to Hoonah and set up a small family practice after hearing the small town had lost another doctor.

“William, come on in. What seems to be the problem?” Dr. Kerry asked as he sat behind his desk.

William eased down in a chair and leaned forward, unsure how to start. He took a deep breath, looked at his doctor and began, from the beginning, with the fire in the kitchen. Dr. Kerry listened, at first shocked, but his eyes grew serious, his days of being in the military having prepared him for almost anything, including this. He wished he had been more surprised, but the truth was more complicated, and he knew this was beyond him.

“William, this is going to need help I can’t give you. This is not something that is normal, but…look, I believe you. I’ve seen things back in the military. Nothing like what you describe but things you wouldn’t call normal. Let me make a call, to someone I trust. I won’t tell them who, just a basic description of what, and see what they say. Would that be okay?”

“Yes, yes. Dr. Kerry, I’m at the end of my rope. I have no idea what to do for my boy.”

“Well, let’s see if we can get him some help.”

Dr. Kerry picked up his cell phone and scrolled through it till he found the name he sought.

“Steve, this is Jason Kerry. It’s been a long time.”

“Damn. Jason Kerry? It’s been ten years.”

“Longer. I retired twelve years ago.”

“We’re getting old” Steve replied laughing. Then he grew quiet, his voice serious. “Why are you calling? There is something wrong, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t say wrong, really, but yes, we have a situation here I don’t know how to handle.”

“A situation you don’t know how to handle? Must be serious. What is it?”

“This stays between us.”

“Okay, no FUBARs.”

Dr. Kerry laughed at the reference and appreciated what it meant. “We have a boy who can start fires.”

“Start fires? You mean without matches?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.”

“What should we do? The boy is having some trouble controlling it.”

“That sounds bad.”

“So far, its not too bad, but it could be.”

“Jason, this is not something I can’t help you with, but I know someone. This guy I served with years ago. He’s still inside, somewhere. Some spook agency. Let me call him.”

“How long do you need?”

“I’ll call you back in thirty minutes or less.”

William paced the small office as Dr. Kerry pulled Liam’s records, reading through them looking for some clue he knew wasn’t there. There were the vaccines, the mild case of chicken pox, the severe colds, an infection from a knife cut while cleaning fish, but nothing that would speak to some ability to start fires with his fingers. When the phone rang, William jumped, then dropped in the closest chair as Dr. Kerry answered it, putting it on speaker.

“Okay, Jason, what have you got?”

“You’re not going to believe this. It seems this is not the first case of a kid being able to do something out of the ordinary. There will be a crew landing sometime in the morning in Juneau and will met at your office. I told them they had to prove themselves to you first before seeing the boy.”

“They’re flying up in the morning?”

“They hope to be there by eight in the morning.”

“Jesus. Who are these people?”

“Don’t ask. Just know you’ll meet a Robert Grimes and his crew. And Jason, the other boy will be with them. The one with some ability they would not tell me about.”

“How will I know them?”

“You’ll know them.”

“Thanks Jason. Anything else?”

“Yes, and this is very important. Tell no one. John said they had an issue with a private group trying to snatch the other boy.”

“Understood. We’ll wait for your guys to get here.”

The jet flew through the early morning hours, passing one time zone after the next, as it flew at Mach 1. It arched up over Canada then down to Juneau, coming in fast, radioing ahead for the airport to be ready. During its six-hour flight, Robert brought everyone up to speed on what they knew. Coats and backpacks with emergency gear were brought out for everyone. He prepped Wesley, telling him why he was brought along. The boy was fourteen and they thought someone who had already been through the ordeal could help him.

“He’s having trouble controlling it?” Wesley asked after Robert finished his report.

“It seems so. You had trouble at that age, and we don’t know if there is some common thread there.”

“But I think mine had something to do with being gay and feeling frustrated with it.”

“Maybe this kid is too” Ricardo jumped in.

“Don’t be silly. Not every boy with a problem is gay,” Richard replied.

“But what if it is something like that? Something that makes his anxieties worse?” asked Wesley.

“That is what you’re to find out.”

The jet descended and quickly landed at the airport, taxiing from the runway to a warehouse near the outer edge of the facility. Two Sikorsky S-76Cs were running at a slow speed when the jet came to a stop. It was 7:57 A.M. and the crew were disembarking within a minute. They raced across the tarmac, Robert, Wesley, Quinton and Ricardo in one, the others in the other.

“Get me that doctor on the phone,” said Robert as soon as they were inside, the engines spooling up.

“Yes, sir,” the pilot replied, then a few seconds later, “he’s on the line, sir.”

“Dr. Kerry, this is Robert Grimes” as he looked at a map of Hoonah on his laptop.

“Mr. Grimes; I was told to expect you this morning.”

“We are in Juneau about to take off.”

“Take off?”

“We’re coming over via helicopters. I have vehicles waiting. Speed is of the essence. We’re concerned for the boy’s safety. Is he with you?”

“No, he’s at home with his parents. I thought it would be best for us to talk first.”

“I understand, but…” Robert replied, letting go of his frustration, knowing Dr. Kerry had no idea what he could be up against. “We’re landing at the airport in Hoonah. You’re on Front Street correct?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll be there soon. Call the family and tell them to stay put and not to answer the door for anyone but you. No one, but you.”

“I got it,” Dr. Kerry replied, hearing the connection end as soon as he spoke. It worried him, the urgency of this Robert Grimes. He dialed the Begay’s home, listening to it ring, and ring, and ring.

The two helicopters lifted off and headed west, out over the water. Within minutes they flew over an island and back out over water curving around land to stay over it. The pilots pushed the two helicopters to fly as fast as possible. They rounded a point to their south and Hoonah came into view. They flew low over the water with the small town to their left. As soon as they were over land the helicopters maneuvered to land at the small airport where two gray vans sat waiting.

“Sir, you may want to see this,” said the pilot drawing Robert’s attention to a Beechcraft King Air running down the runway, then lifting off.

“Ricardo, find out that plane’s flight plan. Where is it going?”

“Yes, sir.”

The helicopters sat down, and the engines hadn’t spooled down when everyone was out running to the vans. Ricardo took the wheel as Richard climbed in the passenger seat with Wesley and Quinton behind them.

“Let’s go,” Richard barked as Ricardo pulled the van in gear and raced for the highway. It was about a mile to the doctor’s office, a small building that faced Port Frederick. As they pulled up in front and climbed out, an older man in a white coat raced out. He was frantic, stumbling as he crossed the parking lot.

“I can’t get them on the phone” Dr. Kerry yelled as he came up to Richard.

“Who: the Begay’s?”

“Yes. No one is answering the phone.”

“Ricardo, we need that flight plan now!” Richard barked, then pulled the side door open, “Dr. Kerry please, get in. We need to make sure.”

“Yes…yes” Dr. Kerry was repeating as he climbed in and sat next to Wesley after Quinton jumped back into the next row.

The vans raced to Eagle Drive and to a house that sat in the edge of the woods. An old Jeep Cherokee and Toyota Tacoma sat in the drive and a trail bike was parked next to the small porch. Richard and men from the other van piled out racing up the house. Even from the vans it was obvious no one was home. It looked empty, made worse by how the front door stood open.  In less than a minute Richard was back in the van as the men loaded up in the other one.

“Airport; now!”

“Do you think someone took them?” Ricardo asked as he raced down Eagle Drive watching for his turn off that would take him back to Airport Road.

“There were signs of a struggle.”

“Oh, no. Oh why didn’t I make them come to the office to wait,” Dr. Kerry was rambling.

“Doctor, they may have come there and taken them anyway. Right now, it’s important we cover all bases on how they might have left.”

“It has to be by air, unless they are going to hide out on the island.”

“My thoughts too,” Richard replied as he looked at Ricardo talking into his headset.

“Are you sure?” Ricardo said into his headset, then he looked at Richard with concern. “Vancouver. They’re heading to Vancouver.”

“Fuck,” Richard exclaimed, then he pulled out his cell phone, quickly dialing a contact. “Get the jet ready to lift off,” he said to Ricardo as he listened to his phone. “John; Richard. We have a problem.”

“What is it?”

“This just went international; crossed the border.”

“I figured they would. Where?”

“Vancouver.”

“Good. We’ve talked with our neighbors about this and they are ready to give assistance if need, but whatever you do, don’t stop pursuing them. How far of a head start?”

“Less than fifteen minutes.”

“The jet ready to take off.”

“It will be.”

“Get in the air. You might catch them.”

“I will catch them. We’ll be on the ground before they arrive.”

The jet was in the air within five minutes of their return to the airport. The pilots pushed the engines, making them roar as they carried the plane up while increasing speed. They climbed to 35,000 feet, higher than the King Air could go, while making contact with radar installations monitoring the Pacific coast.

After flying for twenty minutes, pushing the jet to its limits, “Sir, we have our target. It’ll be visible in in a few minutes,” the pilot radioed Richard.

“Make sure their heading is still toward Vancouver, then push it to beat them there. And don’t let them see us.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dr. Kerry looked over at Wesley, then back at Quinton. He saw they were as concerned as he was, their expressions were so sad and weary looking. He wondered which one was the boy with the gift, if you could call it that. He looked at Wesley, unaware if it was him.

“Excuse me. I’m Dr. Kerry and you are?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m Wesley.”

“And I’m Quinton,” from the seat behind them.

“And may I be so bold as to ask which one of you has some ability?”

“That would be Wesley,” again from the back seat.

Wesley looked at the doctor nodding his head.

“I see. And may I ask what this ability might be?”

Wesley looked at Richard who had turned in his seat. He saw him nod his head then turn back around.

“I can fly.”

The doctor’s eye grew wide, and for a moment it looked like he was going to say that was impossible. Then he smiled, leaned back in his seat. “God, I’m getting too old for this.”

“The boy…how old is he?” Wesley asked.

“He’s fourteen.”

“That is when I lost my ability for a while.”

“You lost your ability?”

“Yes. I think it was stress. I was…” Wesley hesitated, then looked back at Quinton, who smiled, nodding his head. “I was gay and afraid to come out.”

“I see, and when did it return?”

“When he thought he had to save my ass,” came another reply from the back seat.

“Excuse me?” Dr. Kerry asked.

“I had a bike wreck and Wesley thought I was going to bled out, so he flew me to the hospital. Quite fast, I might add.”

“I see. How old were you then?”

“Eighteen,” Wesley replied.

“Four years…oh dear,” Dr. Kerry whispered, and it was obvious what he was thinking.

“We’re landing in fifteen” Richard called out from the front as they felt the plane descending.

Wesley had never seen such focus, such determination. Over the last few months, working with Richard he had learned the man he still thought of as a sheriff, was much more than that. He didn’t doubt for a minute the mission would succeed. It didn’t seem possible with Richard Grimes in charge, for it do otherwise. But he still worried, felt something could go sideways. What if they hurt the boy, or worse the boy couldn’t control it while still in the air? It could kill all of them.

The jet landed with a screech of tires, puffs of smoke at each one, then the sound of reverse thrust as it rapidly slowed. It turned off the runway and taxied to a warehouse building where local officials were waiting. Richard exited first, followed by the others as they made their way to vans sitting at the ready.

“Where’s the plane?” Richard asked one of the ground crew.

“It still over an hour out. You guys made good time.”

“The captain is an impatient man” Ricardo replied, coming up next to Richard with is laptop.

“What have you got?” asked Richard, ignoring the comment.

“The tower is going to land them on this runway. It’ll put them here when they are ready to pull off, so they should be coming across at this point heading to this terminal area for executive jets. We can intercept them here, or here.”

“This looks more secure.”

“But it is also more visible to the public. Do you think that is wise?”

“No, we’ve got enough to deal with already. So, this location gets us a bit more privacy to intercept.”

“Yes.”

Richard took the laptop and went to one of the local officials, a man in a suit who looked as in control as Richard. “This spot here we think is a good place to intercept the plane. Do you agree?”

“Yes, for if you do it over here, we’ll have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Exactly what we were thinking. And one more thing,” said Richard, pointing at their jet, “we need that out of sight. They saw us land in Juneau.”

“We can pull it into the hanger. Justin, help them get that jet in the hanger.”

The King Air flew at twenty thousand feet, engines pushed to near their limit. It followed the coastline, the flight path provided. The pilot contacted the tower making final preparations for landing, confirming the runway and their approach. In back, two men, dressed in dark green military gear, watched the Begay’s. The father had a cut over one eye and a busted nose. The boy was shaking uncontrollably with his mother trying to calm him, knowing if she didn’t, something bad could happen. They felt the plane start its descent, then make a sweeping turn out over the water before turning back toward the southeast. They flew over the strait, descending lower and lower, till the airport on Sea Island was close enough to see the runways. Aligned with the one they were directed, the pilot brought the King Air down. The plane landed smoothly and slowed. The pilot took them to the end of the runway and left on a taxi lane heading toward the executive terminal. It was separate from the main terminal to their left, on the other side of another runway. There were two turns and they were headed toward the far end. Suddenly three vans raced out from around a building, lights flashing. The pilot swung the plane hard to the left cutting out across the grass, determined to get to a runway.

“Fuck,” Richard exclaimed as the saw the King Air turn. “Will someone get in front of that plane,” he yelled in his radio. The vans gave pursuit, but they were too far away.

At the warehouse, Wesley was watching from around the corner. He saw the vans appeared to be too far away and might not make it. With the plane bouncing over the rough ground there was a chance the vans could intercept, but there was no guarantee. He turned to one of the local police who holding a rifle.

“Can I use that?” he exclaimed as he snatched the rifle from the policeman. Before anyone could react, Wesley was in the air, moving fast. He flew out over the taxi lane around the vans until he was hovering in front of the plane, only thirty feet away, keeping pace with it. He aimed the rifle at the cabin windows, his intent clear. The engines revved up, for the pilot was willing to chance it. Wesley fired a round through the glass and blood splattered the window, making him gasp. He had not meant to hit the pilot.

The plane slowed and turned randomly to the side and came to a stop. The engines were shut off and the rear door opened as the vans pulled up next to it. Wesley was on the ground, rifle still in hand, running around the front of the plane. All he could think about was the boy and getting him out. The boy came to the door, looked back once, then raced down the steps and across the grass to Richard who was unarmed, holding out his arms. Wesley pulled back and watched as the boy’s parents came out and followed their son.

The men inside tossed out their guns and surrendered, including the pilot, who Wesley was glad to see only had a shoulder wound. Then he realized what he had done, saw the looks by the local officials, all looking shocked about what they had seen. He had done the one thing warned about on a constant basis. He had flown in a public place during the day. He saw a couple of officers putting their cell phones away and knew they had captured him flying. He handed the rifle to one of the men, who stared at him in awe, and went to Richard.

“I want to tell you how you fucked up…but considering the situation…good job. Thanks,” said Richard as he led the family to his van. “Come on, let’s see how much damage control we can do.”

“Some of the officers took photos.”

“I know and those we’ll get, but those from people over there, those we can’t control. I’m sure messages are going out all over the place.”

“What will happen?”

“We’ll find out.”

That night they were in Seattle, at a hotel in downtown. Richard arranged for them to have one night of down time before heading back east. They reserved a whole floor and quietly eased Wesley and the family up a service elevator to it, away from prying eyes. It was obvious Wesley was showing up in media sites of all types. Even the national news was covering the story.

Quinton was pacing the room while Wesley lay on one of the beds, the room having two queen beds. As long, as their day had been, neither were able to fall asleep. There were too wound up, too frustrated at the prospect of what the future would hold. Wesley knew he had done the one thing that would change everything, but he couldn’t make himself regret it, especially when he saw Liam come to the door of the plane then race across the ground with a look of pure terror he would not soon forget.

“Quinton?”

“Yes.”

“Lay with me.”

Quinton eased down next to Wesley, snuggling up to his back. They had been racing around so, then the sneaking into the hotel, neither had stopped to see how the other was fairing. But Quinton knew it was hard on Wesley, harder than he would admit. He kissed the back of Wesley’s neck and felt the body push back against him.

Over the course of a few minutes, the two of them knowing what they needed in this moment, more than anything else, was each other. They removed their clothes and lay next to each. Hands moved over the other. There were caresses, fingers trailing over skin, following contours, circling moles, nipples or the hollow spot at the base of their necks. Their arousal grew, fueling the passions that existed between them. They kissed with an urgency, a need neither could express.

Wesley rolled to his back, bringing Quinton over on top of him. He clung to the lean body, pulled it tight against his own.

“Do me,” Wesley whispered as he wrapped his legs around Quinton’s waist. “Please…” he begged.

Quinton moved slowly, gently, still worried about him. He felt the hands on his waist, the kisses against his lips, then along the side of his face, and finally along his neck. He penetrated Wesley, then pushed slowly feeling him open up, letting his cock sink all the way in. He wrapped an arm around Wesley’s neck and hugged tightly, feeling Wesley relax in his hold. Then he began to fuck. To work his hips, pulling and pushing his cock through Wesley’s tight opening. He pushed inward savoring the way it felt around his cock, then tugged it outward, the tightness stroking him to full arousal.

“Quinton,” Wesley uttered as reached back, running hands along Quinton’s sides. There was a desperation in the way fingers dug into flesh, and Quinton began to fuck faster. He drove into Wesley’s depths feeling the shivering body beneath him take every inch.

Quinton’s pace increased. He slipped arms behind Wesley’s knees, lifting, then pushing them forward. Pushing back in, he covered Wesley with his body, trapping the heat they generated. Every touch, each place skin pressed against skin was hot and sweaty. He moved slickly over Wesley as he piston cock inside him. “No matter what happens…you can’t leave me” he uttered as he thrust with greater and greater force. His exertions were pushing him to the brink of release. “Promise me,” he pleaded.

“I promise,” Wesley whispered as he threw his head back while pushing upward with his hips. Everything fell from focus except Quinton. The weight on his body, the feel of hands and lips that touched his skin and the fullness of penetration. His own cock was rock hard, pinned between them as Quinton undulated over him, driving into his depths.

“Wesley…” Quinton uttered as he pushed inward all the way and shuddered with release.

They lay on the bed long enough to settle their breathing, then Wesley led Quinton in the bathroom. In the tub under a warm shower, he bathed Quinton. Ran hands over shoulders, around the long neck, down chest and back, and around the groin. He sank to his knees and bathed each leg, then sucked Quinton till hard. Back on his feet, he shampooed Quinton’s hair, massaging the scalp as he kissed him.

Wesley guided Quinton under the spray rinsing the suds from his hair and body. He pressed up against his back and pushed cock between ass cheeks. Hugging them together he kissed the back of Quinton’s neck and inhaled the fresh clean scent from his hair.

Quinton bent over, pushing back against Wesley’s cock. “Put it in me,” said Quinton while reaching back and taking him in hand and guiding him forward. Wesley pushed and felt the squeeze on his cock as he penetrated Quinton sinking all the way into his depths.

“Fuck” Wesley uttered as he began to drive his cock into Quinton. He pushed inward till rocking Quinton forward, then pulled outward till only the head remained inside of him. Over and over, with a slow gentle pace, Wesley fucked Quinton, building up his arousal, and Quinton’s too. He reached around the narrow waist and took him in hand, stroking in rhythm with his slow pace. It caused Quinton to moan and to cry out at times.

It was an impossible pace, too slow to maintain. Wesley felt too aroused, a need for release too great, and he increased his pace. Faster and faster, till hips smacked against ass and Quinton was pushed against the wall. “Take me,” he cried out as he pushed inward all the way and shuddered with release.

Two Days Later

Raven Rock – Location Top Secret

Wesley and Quinton sat at the conference table listening to a report on the repercussions of his flying at the airport in Vancouver. There were social media posts, segments in news asking if Superman really existed, and conspiracy theories. There were so many theories, the man giving the report said they had to update their list hourly. Richard had a grim look, looking over to the men either side of him, conferring in whispers. There were shaking of heads with expressions that grew worse.

Richard sat back and looked toward Wesley, shaking his head.

“I’m going to give it to you straight. Those men were from one of our own agencies. Which one, we’re still going through channels trying to find out. They are covering their tracks, but we have some people working with us wanting to know why we have a rogue element going against us. As to you getting to go back to the university, that is off the table. It won’t happen. And Quinton, you will need to make some tough decisions soon.”

“Huh?” Quinton whispered, looking at Wesley, still in shock at all that had happened over the last two days.

“And after today, we’re picking up some chatter from foreign interest. It is going to get worse,” Richard added, ignoring Quinton. Wesley didn’t reply for a long time. He sat mute, staring down. When he looked up there was some resolve in his countenance.

“Can I see the boy?”

“Yes. He’s been asking for you. Your sessions with him yesterday seemed to be helping. Any clue as to why he is having trouble controlling his ability?”

“I think so, but I need his trust. Only then will I be able to figure it out for sure.”

“Let’s break for lunch. I’ve arranged for everyone to eat together. Hopefully it’ll settle some nerves. Colonel, thanks for the update.”

“Yes, sir,” the man at the podium replied, the left the room.

It was a small cafeteria, a room that was square and devoid of character, uncomfortably so. Sitting along two of the long tables sat the crew from the Alaska mission, along with Liam and his parents. Wesley made a point to sit next to Liam. On Liam’s other side sat his mother and father.

“Are you feeling better?” Wesley asked without looking.

“Yeah” came Liam’s reply around a mouthful of food.

“I see you got your appetite back.”

“Yes, I’m starving,” Liam replied making his mother and Wesley smile. Reaching for another piece of chicken, Liam lowered his voice, “are you going to take me up?”

Wesley smiled, thinking of all the times in the last day Liam had asked him to take him flying. “That is going to be a problem now that everyone is finding out. I’m afraid I’m in lock down.”

“Worse than us?”

“Oh yeah. Way worse than you.”

“Crazy.”

The response pleased Wesley, for it showed the teenage boy was coming back to them. His curiosity and lack of concern over any protocol. Looking up he saw Richard Grimes was even smiling at Liam, acknowledging the improvement since the airport incident. One they all wished to get over.

Once finished, Wesley slid back and stood. “Liam, will you walk with me?”

“Sure.”

Wesley saw Liam’s mother look up, an expression of concern but a quick nod from Richard seemed to ease her mind. Wesley led Liam to the corridor and down to the room that faced a small interior courtyard, with a single tree growing in its middle. They sat on a bench and for a short time just stared at the tree that grew up through the opening in the roof.

“I want to ask you something, but I don’t want you to get upset or freak out about it.”

“Okay.”

“The way you’re struggling with your ability, this lack of control at times. It’s different but still reminds me of my own problem.”

“It was because you were worried about something else?”

“Yes. And I think you are too. Am I right?”

Liam shrugged his shoulders and gave Wesley a quick glance.

“Are you gay?” Wesley asked.

“Please don’t tell mom and dad.”

There it was: the admission for what he suspected since talking with Liam the day before.

“That is something I think you need to do. But if you’re so worried about what their response will be, I could talk to them. Feel them out on this.”

“You could see if they’d reject me?”

It caught Wesley off guard, the way Liam expressed his fear. This rejection by the two people that were supposed to care for him the most. “Yes. I could feel them out on it. Would that be okay?”

Liam nodded his head.

“But after everything you’ve been through, you don’t seriously think they would, do you?”

“I don’t know…maybe not.”

Wesley took out a piece of paper that had been folded up. He spread it out on his leg as Liam watched. He laid it on the floor and pushed it out with his foot as far as he could. “Burn a round hole in it.”

“What? I can’t do that. All I can do it set the whole thing on fire.”

“Try,” Wesley replied. He smiled, almost laughed, at the notion of asking a boy to shoot fire from his fingers and burn a hole in a piece of paper. “Go on, try. What’s the worst that can happen? The whole thing goes up in flames. So be it.”

Liam looked at the sheet of paper, a blank page with creases from being folded and he stared at it. His right hand came up, the index finger extended. An arch of white charge looped around it. The air felt charged too, hairs standing up on Wesley’s arms. Then a bolt of white exploding through the air, like lightning. The paper blew up from the floor, smoke trailing from it. When it settled on the floor there was a perfect circle burned through the middle of it.

“Oh shit,” Liam exclaimed.

“That’s what I thought. You’ve got way more control than you realize, but you have to be able to focus, push away distractions.”

Liam turned to Wesley, wide eyed, “You think I can do more?”

“Probably. But first we need to address this issue between you and your parents. And remember, there will always be someone who judges you unfairly. They don’t matter.”

“Okay. When are you going to talk to mom and dad?”

“Now. Nothing like the present to get resolution,” Wesley replied, slapping Liam’s leg as he stood up. “Go on back to your room and we’ll catch up later.”

Liam stood and started down the corridor, but after about twenty feet he stopped and turned. “Wesley?”

“Yes, Liam?”

“Thanks…for everything.”

Wesley took Mr. and Mrs. Begay to one of the small conference rooms in their restricted area and sat down with them. He intended to go slow, to circumvent the issue, just feel them out at first, but he saw their concerned expressions and knew it was silly to beat around the bush.

“As you are aware there is something that makes Liam struggle to control this ability he has. And I’m going to be straight forward and to the point. I know what Liam is struggling with; what this issue is all about.”

“Please…tell us. We want our boy to not be like this,” Mrs. Begay exclaimed, the anxiousness evident in her tone.

“He’s different, from the other children, and you seem to be dealing with this very well.”

“He’s our son,” said Mr. Begay.

“What if he had another difference?”

Mrs. Begay looked at Wesley, then her husband. “You mean he’s gay?”

It was stated as a question, but she knew, and Wesley saw Mr. Begay did too.

“We’ve been waiting for him to come to us. We knew something was up for the last year and thought it was this ability. But in the last few months we saw signs it was more than that.”

“Is there going to be a problem…”

“What?! NO!” both parents exclaimed in unison.

“Good. For this is the thing that has Liam unable to control his ability.”

“This is the reason?”

“He’s afraid this will be the thing that gets him rejected.”

“Oh, I see,” Mrs. Begay uttered.

“Talk with him. Let him know how you feel. You’ll see changes in him for the better and I’d bet almost immediately. He’s in your room now.”

The Begay’s stood and headed to the door, Mrs. Begay stopping before opening it. “We can’t thank you enough.”

“I’m glad to help.”

That night, alone in their makeshift room, Wesley in Quinton’s arms. They were silent, had been for a long time. Quinton kissed Wesley’s neck and hugged him tightly. Wesley pulled away and rolled to his back so he could look at him, eye to eye.

“Are you serious?”

“Serious about what? Staying with you no matter what? Yes,” Quinton replied.

“But it could be bad.”

“Then you’ll need me even more.”

Wesley nodded his head but didn’t say more. Quinton lay up next to him, his face only inches away.

“You think Liam will be okay?” Quinton whispered.

“Yes. I think he’ll be fine. Richard is having them moved. Not sure where, but it is close to one of their offices. Liam will go back to school and act as nothing but a kid that has been relocated by his parents. They’ll set up his father with a job, something in the agency that will keep them close.”

“That’s good.”

“They said Liam could eventually take my place. Finish high school, go to college and pick up the research.”

“Can’t you continue the research?”

“We talked about it, but until they know the group responsible for going after Liam within our own government… they think it is not safe. Liam, they can keep hidden for now. But me…after Vancouver, not so much.”

“Where does that leave you…us?”

“We’ll see what Richard has to say.”

“Well, for tonight let’s not think of it anymore,” Quinton whispered as he began to undo the buttons on Wesley’s shirt.

“What are you doing?” asked Wesley as he grinned at Quinton.

“I think we need to something to take our minds off of everything.”

“You think sex will do it?”

“Maybe…it’s worth a shot.”

Once Wesley was stripped, they became physical, an urgency to their manipulations of the other. Soon Quinton lay on his stomach underneath Wesley. Their bodies moved as one, undulating with the primitive movements of their sexual intercourse. The connection forged between them, with Wesley buried within Quinton’s depths. The cot squeaked beneath them and rocked against the wall. They didn’t care. Harder and harder, Wesley pumped himself into Quinton’s depths till his body was exhausted from its exertions. His skin was glistening wetly in the dim light of the room and their moans and cries echoed around it.

“Fuck” Wesley cried out as he emptied himself inside of Quinton.

Once spent, without a moment’s hesitation, he got Quinton on his back and he eased down on Quinton’s wet, leaking cock. The cot protested once again. Squeaking and banging against the wall until Quinton was pumping his hips upward with every ejaculation of his cock.

They collapsed in a sweaty heap, breathing hard. As skin cooled, they snuggled up tighter. Their breathing slowed, and eventually sleep overtook them.

The next morning found Wesley and Quinton in an office Richard Grimes had been set up in. There were stacks of folders on the desk, two cell phones in front of him and a desktop computer to one side. Behind him, tacked to the wall, a map of North America, and to the side one of Central America. Red pins were in it. Wesley wanted to ask about them, but Richard began their meeting as soon as they got seated.

“You know you can not go back to college. This is way out of control.”

“I know.”

“We have two options. One: I get you set up on a base, California or Texas or…hell I don’t know, but you’ll never be able to leave.”

“And the second option?”

“I make a call and see if we can get you somewhere off the grid. A place that you’ll be anonymous.”

“And this includes me, right?” Quinton interrupted.

“If that is what you want, but you do have the option to continue with your life. Go back to the college, get your degree and…”

“What? No. Fuck no…I’m staying with Wesley.”

Richard smiled, nodding his head. “I thought so, but just needed to make sure.”

“We’re sure.”

“But Quinton, if you…” Wesley began to question it again. This sacrificing a normal life just for him. It seemed so unfair.

“Wesley, we’ve discussed it. I’m coming with you.”

“Now that we have that settled, I’ll make that call.”

“Who can you call about this?” Wesley asked.

“A fixer. Well, a retired one, technically, but someone I trust and who’s not tied to any agency. So, I know we’ll have someone we can trust, and you’ll be as off the grid as possible.”

“And what will he do, exactly?”

“He’ll find a place for you to move. A place that will not be in the country, a place where you’ll not be noticed, but a place we can still make contact. You know, check up on you. Make sure you’re not going rogue or something,” said Richard, grinning at the boys as they considered what he meant.

“Okay, make the call,” Quinton spoke up first, and Wesley nodded in agreement.

Richard picked up a cell phone, looked up a contact and hit send to make a connection.

“It’s Richard. You still on board to help?”

The boys watched Richard listen, unable to hear even a muffled voice.

“It’ll be the two of them and as I told you, they are together…yes, like that.”

Richard listened for nearly a full minute, then nodded his head. “Sounds good. How long…that quick? Damn, they were fools to let you retire,” said Richard laughing. “You got my number and I trust you can get all the documents too? Good…good.”

Richard listened, nodding his head. “Thanks, I really appreciate it. We don’t know who to trust on this end, so…yeah, I know. I’ll expect your call by week’s end. We’ll like to get them resettled by month’s end, if that is…it is…great. I’ll wait on your call.”

Richard set his cell phone down and Wesley leaned forward, “So, it’s done?”

“We’ll have arrangements by week’s end.”

Two Weeks Later

Waves crashed on the beach as moonlight reflected off the dark waters of the Pacific. The wind rustled the trees along the beach but all else was quiet in the small village. The only sound was that of a boat approaching. Docked out in the ocean was a small ship, one that waited, watching as its smaller boat for landings raced toward the shore. The white of its wake shined brightly in the moonlight, a sharp contrast with the dark waters.

The boat cut its engine and coasted up to the shoreline where two men jumped out and pulled it up on the beach. They helped two others climb out, then pulled duffel bags from the boat and followed them up the beach. As they neared a shelter at the beach’s edge, two men stepped out of its dark shadows and met them halfway.

“Are you Wesley?”

“Yes, and this is Quinton.”

“Quinton” the closest man repeated, holding out a hand. “Nice to finally meet you guys. My grandfather has told me all about your situation. I’m Preston. This is my partner; Brody.”

“Nice to meet you. I assume this Paradise of yours will meet our needs.”

“Trust me. No one will think to look for you here.”