BEING JAMIE BAKER

Chapter 23

 I didn't hesitate for even a second as I flew to the school and blew through the door to my English classroom. Maybe I should have come up with a plan first because I was not prepared for what I found waiting for me on the other side of that door. I knew Ryan would be there. I even expected to see him tied to a chair or something, which he was, but I never dreamed that he'd be wired to a car battery. It was such a disturbing sight that the moment I saw him I freaked the mother of all freak-outs.

"Amazing," Mr. Edwards whispered to himself as the lights in the room burst, raining down in a shower of glass and sparks.

"Amazing" is definitely not how I saw it. What I saw was every muscle in Ryan's body tensed and shaking violently from the electricity being pumped into him. The wattage was so high that he couldn't even scream. It was the most horrifying thing I've ever seen. "Mr. E., what are you doing to him!" I shrieked.

"It's not me, Jamie. If you don't want him to die I suggest you turn off the power right now."

When his words sank in, I was so horrified that my eyes drifted back to Ryan in what felt like slow motion. "I can't just flip a switch!"

I took a step toward Ryan, wanting to rip him free from the torture. But as I moved closer, the energy got stronger. I couldn't free him, so I did the only thing I could think of. I left. And it just about killed me. I left Ryan there, stranded with a psychopath, wired to a car battery, and now, thanks to me, probably half dead. But what else could I do? I was killing him, and unlike Mr. Edwards seemed to think, I couldn't just turn it off. Not when I was so upset.

I ran from that room as fast as my legs could take me. I was too distraught to think up a plan, but it didn't really matter because my phone was ringing just a few short seconds after I took off. I didn't say anything when I answered it—I couldn't get words out between my sobs—but Mr. Edwards didn't wait for a greeting.

"I'm sorry, Jamie." Mr. Edwards sighed, and he had the nerve to actually sound remorseful. "I didn't realize... I was under the impression that you had learned how to control yourself. Honestly, I never wanted anyone to get hurt."

You know what they say: anger does a body good. Or maybe that was milk, but whatever. It certainly did me some good right then to get really mad, because I quit crying like a baby and found my inner ice queen.

"Then why take Ryan? Why strap him to a battery? You're sick!"

"It was self-defense. I knew that if you couldn't use your power around him, then you wouldn't be able to use it on me."

I hated to admit it, but, "Actually, Mr. E., that wasn't a bad idea on your part."

"Thanks."

"Too bad it was all a wasted effort."

"How do you figure?"

"Because I may not be able to stop you right now, but the cops surely can. Don't think I'm not going to call them."

Mr. E. ignored my threats and changed the subject. "I've been to Tahoe, Jamie. I've seen your little practice sessions with Ryan."

I was about to hang up on him and call the police as promised, but something occurred to me then. "It was you I saw that day, videotaping me." I was talking more to myself than him. "I should have known Carter would never be stupid enough to get caught."

"Jamie, the things you can do... You're incredible! Don't you want to understand how it's possible?"

"No. What I want is for you to let my boyfriend go."

"I'm afraid I can't do that. Not until you hear me out."

"You," I growled, "will never get what you want. I would let Carter take me to CNN before I'd let you come anywhere near me!"

"You don't understand what I want," Mr. E. said in a strange voice. I realized a moment later it was desperation. He was pleading with me. "I want to help you master this gift you have. I want to see you happy, Jamie, and safe. We could work together. Just you and me. No hospitals, no doctors, no labs. Kind of like what you and Ryan have been trying to do, except that with the things I know, we could actually get some answers. You wouldn't have to leave your life, and we don't have to do any tests that you don't want to do. I would take care of you."

It was right then that I realized Mr. E. had some serious issues. "Carter wasn't kidding about you being obsessed with me, was he?" I said. "News flash, Mr. E. You're a psycho!"

I don't think Mr. E. appreciated me calling him crazy, because he got mad. Supermad. Supervillain mad.

"You don't know what's best for you," he said, his voice trembling in the creepiest way possible. "But I'm going to make you see."

"Cuckoo!" I sung. "I'm calling the cops now."

"If you do, Ryan will be dead before they get here."

The guy sounded crazy enough that he might actually be capable of what he was threatening. Something came up my throat then, and no matter how hard I tried, I wasn't able to say anything.

"You leave me no choice, Jamie," Mr. Edwards said.

There was a moment of silence, then a click, and short buzz of static in the reception on my phone. Then Ryan began to scream a pained, muffled scream. "Hello?" I screamed. "Mr. E.? What are you doing?"

Mr. Edwards was way too calm when he finally spoke up again. "The interesting thing about a car battery, Jamie, is that it's really not enough power to kill you by electrocution. That's why people like to use it as a form of torture. You see, what it does is, the electricity makes all of your muscles tighten up so hard that you can't breathe. Eventually you die of suffocation. It's a very slow, painful death."

"This isn't funny, Mr. E.! You'll kill him! Stop! Turn it off!"

"I want to, Jamie, I do. But you're a very stubborn girl. This may be the only way to get through to you."

"But I can't control it!"

"Well, I suggest you learn pretty quick."

Why did this keep happening to me? Why did I continue to hurt people? Derek was dead because of me. And now Ryan was dying. Again, because of me.

I was so frantic that energy raged inside me at an extreme I'd never felt before, and it caused that yellow-green haze to cloud not only my sight, but my mind as well. It was impossible to think rationally. One thought took up all the space in my head: Save Ryan. Do whatever it takes.

As I took off running again something in the back of my head told me that saving my boyfriend might require taking the life of my favorite teacher, well, ex-favorite teacher, but whatever conscience I used to possess had flown the coop. I knew I wouldn't be able to control my temper when I saw him, but I didn't care anymore. Quite frankly, Mr. E. deserved whatever he got.

I was back at schoo