Madison was rooted to the spot. She couldn’t make herself leave the gas station bathroom.

  “It’s okay if you’re nervous,” Victor, all smiles and middle-aged paunch, assured her from a respectful distance, twenty yards out into the parking lot. His hands were raised, palms showing. “You don’t need to come with. But- I mean- Kiddo, you did call me, right?”

  She shuddered in place, peeking out through the three inches of clearance between the unisex bathroom’s door and the outside world. Behind Victor, across the lot, three pairs of eyes goggled at her from behind the frosty windows of the van he’d arrived in.

  She had managed to touch down to solid ground three hours ago, and had walked for half an hour before finally finding a building she felt even a little comfortable entering: a slightly worn-down gas station manned by a single bored teenager. She’d asked to use the cashier’s phone, and the teenager, too stunned by the girl’s hospital gown and dazed demeanor, had acquiesced surprisingly quickly.

  She’d fished the crumpled card Victor had left her from the pocket on her gown, had dialed his number with shaking fingers. He’d picked up after two rings, and had managed to coax a location out of her, promised to come pick her up as soon as he could.

  Then she’d hung up, returned the phone, and, consumed by a sudden, choking panic, fled the store. Then, halfway down the road, the sight of the wide open expanse of highway before her changed her mind again, and she swerved back, ran barefoot across grass and asphalt. She couldn’t bring herself to enter the station again, but couldn’t stand the idea of Victor arriving to find her gone, and giving up on her entirely. So she’d compromised by ducking into the gas station’s detached restroom.

  And now she was here.

  “I’m so sorry,” Victor said. “I really, truly didn’t think they’d attack a hospital. A kid’s hospital for cripessakes.”

  The mention of the attack sent another pang of fear through her, made her want to retreat farther into the bathroom, away from the world that contained masked murderers and magic powers and Gramma.

  But the bathroom stank, and she couldn’t stay here forever.

  “I- I want to come out,” she croaked. “But I’m too scared.”

  “I get that. I get that, for sure. Is it me?” Victor rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I guess I’m still technically a stranger.”

  “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t say sorry.” Victor scratched his chin, snapped a finger. “I’ve got an idea. Hang tight.”

  He jogged back to his van--none of that lightning-fast zipping around he’d done back at the hospital--and after a few minutes of unseen talking, a young girl hopped out from the backseat. She whispered with Victor, the two of them taking turns casting glances her way.

  Then she approached. The girl coming up to the bathroom now was younger than her. Much younger, maybe twelve? Ten? Madison’s only reference for children’s ages was herself, and the faded memory of long-forgotten tv shows.

  “Hello? You in there?” The girl had come closer than Victor had, was only a couple feet away. Madison cracked the door open a fraction farther, got a better look. The girl was darker-skinned than her father, her neat black braids festooned with clips. She wore a bright yellow t-shirt that read “I GRADUATED CAMP COTTONWOOD AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS DUMB SHIRT.”

  “Who’re you?” Madison felt immediately self-conscious of the rasp of her little-used voice.

  “My name’s Hazel. You’ve already met my dad, I think.” She held out her hand, left it hanging in the air right outside the bathroom door. "Listen, I get why you're scared, but I promise you'll be safe if you come with us. We're strong. Or- we're learning to be strong, and Dad's actually strong, and he won't let anyone get to you."

  "Why does anyone want to get to me?" Madison whispered.

  Hazel paused. "You know, I can't figure out a way to answer that without freaking you out. But! Like I said, you don't have to worry about it anymore."

  "Where are you taking me?"

  "Dad's got us in a motel in, what'd he call it, in Woodbury? Woodberry? It's got a pool and everything. Flo and Dylan in one room, Dad in another, then you and me in the third. You come with us, we'll be roomies." Hazel grinned. Her teeth were crooked. Like Madison's.

  Something about that detail was what spurred her to move forward, to resist stamping the budding feeling of trust she felt. Gingerly, she took the girl's hand. It was rougher than she expected it to be.

  Hazel beamed, and slowly, carefully, led her out into the light.

  Madison's moment of trust lasted exactly ten seconds. Then, as they were walking through the parking lot, a passing truck revved its engine, loud and close. The noise transported her back to the night of her escape, to Gramma's approaching headlights, and her heart galloped in her chest.

  She rooted herself to the spot. Hazel stopped with her.

  "You okay? We're halfway there."

  "I- I don't-" she glanced around, breathing hard, skinny birdlike chest heaving. She felt pursued again. She needed to get away.

  "Don't-" Hazel tightened her grip. "Don't run off. It's okay. Nobody's going to- Oop!"

  Madison felt that inexplicable backward gravity she'd felt in the hospital room, and lurched an inch into the air. Her feet briefly dangled against the asphalt, then, with another two inches of altitude, were hanging free. Hazel planted herself low and kept her grip, tried to anchor her down.

  "Uh, Dad?" Hazel called. "Need a hand!"

  Victor was over in a flash, had his hand around Madison's arm. She yelped at the sudden contact.

  "Sorry, so sorry Maddy- uh, Madison, but please don't go flying off. You might hurt yourself. I- Dylan!"

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  There was another hand on her other arm, now, belonging to a wiry kid maybe a couple years older than Hazel. He was white, blonde, his clothes a little too big on him. "No fair that you can fly," he said, grunting with exertion. She was straining against them, now, a foot from the ground. "Why didn't I get the Knack that turns you into Superman?"

  "Not the time to complain about Knacks, Dylan," a voice came from behind her. She craned around, both arms pinned, and saw a taller young woman, much more reminiscent of Victor, standing on her tiptoes behind her, hands outstretched. She felt herself bump into something solid in the air, an invisible wall. "If she could trade with you I'm sure she would."

  "Fantastic idea, Flo," Victor said. "Your barrier should hold her until we figure out how to get her down."

  "What's happening?" Madison felt on the verge of tears again. Too many people were touching her. "Why can't I stop?"

  "That's something we're gonna have to figure out, Madison," Victor said. "You have a- just an extraordinary gift, here. I can't quite tell how you're even managing this. You aren't expelling any energy, as far as I can see. But we don't want you sucking yourself up into space, or wandering too high and getting a visit from the Air Force, do we? It's why you should come with me, let me teach you how-"

  Madison's breath was loud, now, her heartbeat audible in her ears. Victor's words, the images he was conjuring, they were terrible. She hadn't even considered- The wall, behind her, it shunted. It was starting to give.

  "Uh, Dad?" Flo's voice was strained. "Calm down with the death talk-"

  "I didn't mention death! Madison, I didn't mean to-"

  "She's breaking the barrier!"

  "She's what?"

  "Oh shit!"

  "Dylan, language-"

  "Madison, try to grab on to-"

  With a roar of wind and a chorus of surprised yelps, Madison broke through the invisible barrier behind her and shot into the sky. The ground dropped away from her at a dizzying rate, the footprint of the gas station turning into a blurry, faraway block on a rolling green landscape in seconds.

  She heard a gasp in her ear. Hazel was still with her, clutching onto her torso, eyes goggling at the retreating ground.

  "Hazel!" Victor's voice boomed from the ever-fleeing earth. "Hazel, let go! I'll catch you! I can-"

  Soon his voice was too quiet to hear. The wind buffeted the two as they rose, as the air grew thin and cold and the sky darkened. They were high enough to see the curve of the Earth, now, to see clouds gathering in their formations.

  "Oh gosh, oh no, oh gosh," Hazel chanted. "Hey, hey Madison, hey maybe slow down."

  "I don't know how to! I don't know how to. I don't know how! I don't-"

  "Hey, hey, hey, hey, don't- No need to panic-"

  She panicked. Their ascent sped. She felt the acceleration pulling at her cheeks, the skin on her face, drawing it taut. Hazel slipped in her grip, and she reached out, hooked her arms under the girl's.

  Hazel gasped again, then turned and buried her head into the crook of Madison's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. Shh. We've got you. I've got you. You're okay."

  The sentence didn't make any sense. Nobody had her, nobody had the slightest idea what was happening, least of all this little girl. But the words, the gesture, they shaved a layer off of Madison's frenzy.

  Hazel rubbed her back, kept whispering. "You're fine. You're in control, here. You're okay. You're gonna be okay."

  They slowed from a blur, to a streak, to a gentle updraft, to stillness.

  "I'm going to be okay," Madison repeated, not quite believing it, but aware that it was working. "I'm going to be okay."

  "There, you got it," Hazel pulled away far enough to give her another crooked smile. "You're in charge."

  They hung in the air for a moment, then, suspended above hundreds of miles of green and blue and white. Distantly below, a flock of geese trundled by in an airborne V.

  Hazel started to detach from her a little, and Madison realized then that she'd never hugged someone her size before. The girl peeked downward, then shut her eyes.

  "Whoa. Higher than I thought."

  "If I dropped you, would you- You'd die?"

  Hazel chuckled, the sound of someone doing her best not to think about that exact possibility. "Maybe! Maybe. If Dad didn't-"

  Madison pictured that, Hazel slipping from her grasp and shattering her body on the Earth below, and her heartbeat galloped up to speed again. With a lurch and a yelp, they started to rocket back to Earth. Hazel gripped her close again.

  "Hey, uh- Good idea! Real good idea, getting us lower, but maybe slow it down-"

  "I don't know how!"

  "Just- Okay. Picture us hitting the ground so hard we explode."

  "What?!"

  "Picture it!"

  "Okay, I'm-" She formed a mental image, of the two of them, wrapped in their clumsy hug, colliding with the Earth like a meteor. Her stomach lurched, and their speed slowed.

  "There you go! There you go. See? You're in control. You just have to- You have to reverse-psychology it. You have to-"

  They were only a few hundred feet away from the ground, now, and dropping fast, over a corn field. A van raced beneath them, tracking them across a highway, and she saw the antlike miniature silhouette of Victor burst from the moving vehicle and rocket across the field, to stand below them.

  "Hazel! Hazel, drop, now!" His voice was just audible over the whip of the wind.

  Hazel looked at Madison. "I'm gonna let go, so my Dad can catch me first. Then he'll be able to grab you, if you need it. If you don't slow down-"

  "I don't know if I can-"

  "You can," Hazel nodded. "Remember, you've got this."

  And with a thumbs-up, she pushed herself down and away from Madison and plummeted Earthward. As Madison's deceleration continued, Hazel outpaced her, and she saw Victor race underneath the girl, leap in the air in a blurred arc, and land lightly on the ground with her wrapped in his arms.

  She was still falling fast. Not bullet-quick, not meteoric, but at a rate that spelled a broken leg, or fractured spine, or-

  And now she was jolting upward again.

  Madison growled with frustration and clenched her eyes tight. She tried to clear her mind. Tried to put out the fear of rocketing into space, of breaking her limbs, of Gramma or the masked man or the police coming to find her.

  She tried to picture the feeling of her feet touching earth. She tried to anticipate what it'd feel like, the rasp of the grass on her soles, the solid, reassuring weight of her legs braced against land. She tried to, for the first time in days, replace her fear with decisive focus, the worry of failure with an image of success.

  She pictured herself landing. The wind in her ears quieted. The stomach-lurch of directional acceleration faded. The fear went away.

  And her feet made contact with the earth, exactly how she'd imagined they would.

  She opened her eyes to see Victor and his children watching from a respectful distance, the older man braced, as if he'd expected to have to run and catch her. All four of them were watching her with something like silent awe mixed with relief.

  Finally, the younger boy broke the silence.

  "What are you?" he breathed.