Caped (Book 1): The Burdens of Fate (15 page)

We all felt it, as if it was alive and watching
us watch it. Something Kaylie brought up and Thomas quickly wrote off as
impossible. "It's not sentient," he kept stating over and over again,
either because of some sly quip from Prisca, or because every time they
repeated the process Kaylie would bring it up.

And all this while the sun barely crest above
the horizon because in Antarctica days, no
excuse me, weeks are like that. Yeah, Ivan was crafty getting some heat in the
area, but all in all, it was still cold as ice down there. But I can't say it
wasn't time well spent, after five hours of watching, waiting, and hearing
Thomas and Ivan say "Uh-huh" and "Yup" more times than a
bad King of the Hill skit we finally got to see the crème de la crème of jaw-dropping
"Oh shit" moments.

Thomas and Ivan stood shoulder to shoulder
reading a slew of numbers and notifications as they crawled over the tablet’s
screen. There was a
ding
sound that was audible to us even a couple feet
away. Our idle chatter ceased the moment the ground jolted, just a single
forceful one, commanding our attention as the massive mountainous plateau rose
into the sky during the arctic dusk. Reds and oranges filtered through from the
clouds, making the sight akin to something out of a whimsical painting. A
couple loose boulders fell from the uneven upside-down mountainous underside in
scattered areas.

Once the sight had set in and the majesty wore
off, Alvin
brought up a very pertinent question; "Just how the hell are you going to
keep this off the radar?"

Thomas came back with a very nonchalant,
"We're not." At least not at that moment. He and Ivan ended up
working through the night-time hours, making sure the particulars of their
designs were functioning, and then working on what Ivan called, "Operation
shadow." Which I assume was their solution to Alvin's question.

From what I've been told, only Alvin stuck around for that, and good for
him. I, however, had grown tired of the cold, and felt as if nature was kindly
asking me to leave.

Michael Serna
-

Oh thank God! Can we have a round of applause
for the people still capable of making rational decisions? It helps me retain
what little hope I have in the world. The civilian No-fly zone law was passed,
but was only a shadow of its former self.

Basically intended to keep people away from
national landmarks and airports, everything else is fair game. Score one for
liberty. Of course this doesn't stop individual states from passing their own
version of the law, but we'll cross that bridge once we come to it.

I just feel people are taking things a little
too personal. Calm down. The world you knew is dead, but that's not necessarily
a bad thing. With new life comes new opportunities, and new challenges.

There isn't a country on earth that isn't going
though hell trying to figure this stuff out; but we need to stay positive,
because if we start living like the world has changed for the worse we'll take
actions that will make it so.

–
4/6
–

Edward
Otep
-

Remember the last time you were truly
awestruck, with your jaw hanging low and that flab of muscle called your tongue
failing to do anything other than lay silenced in utter defeat when tasked to
form a word? Or how, as a kid, you imagined a hidden base deep within the
mountain or submerged beneath the waves?

Well, I just took another peek at what Thomas
and Ivan have in store for us and I can't help but feel like a child.

Thomas appears to be a genius in every sense of
the word. A super genius. He loves to stay busy testing theories and new ideas.
That, coupled with Ivan's love for grand theatrical design makes them one
amazing dream team, capable of doing in hours what would take normal men
months. And we have front row tickets.

An e-mail came in from Thomas about fifteen
minutes ago, he wants to meet with us again this weekend. I know what he has
planned so I couldn't help but smile. This weekend will definitely be one for
the records.

Prisca Amin
-

So, you want to know what my main problem is?
Scale. I can feel so much potential bubbling up inside of me that I can't do
anything with. I'm used to seeing heroes in the movies with complete control of
their abilities, and that's cool for them, but I can't flex my muscles without
worrying about blowing a hole through my wall. What am I supposed to practice
on, my silverware? Hell no, I paid good money for those.

Let's take a look at the basics; I can control
and create sound. Which means I can alter my voice, imitate anyone else's,
truly throw my voice, and talk with my mouth shut. Pretty impressive, I guess.
And on top of it all I can fly.

Points off for the person who thought that'd be
a good idea because heights scare the shit out of me.

I should have experimented more in Antarctica, but honestly the last thing I wanted to do
was wander off into the biggest desert on earth. Oh well, I'll figure something
out.

In other news, my baby sister stopped by over
the weekend, which meant things were going to be kinda strange. I hadn't told
her anything about the bullet wounds, my trip to the hospital, or my upcoming
attempt to save the world. I just told her I was a little shaken by it, but I
was fine.

So you can imagine her face when she saw the
bullet holes in the wall. I knew I should have taken Alvin up on his offer to patch those. But
she's a drama queen so her semantics were coming out one way or another. She
dropped her bags and started with all her drama.

"Prisca! What the fuck? Are you
okay?!"

As if I wasn't obviously standing in front of
her without an ounce of worry. I told her I was fine, that I wasn't home when
it happened, but she didn't buy it. "Up, up," she said, referring to
my arms. And so I let her have her little moment knowing full well that
fighting it was useless. I knew most of it was just her playing around. I'd
started chuckling, but still, if we weren't related I'd have been offended. She
was more invasive than a TSA pat-down. She had me strip in my own house, which
I did because I knew if she saw the bullet wounds under any other circumstances
there'd be no calming her down. Oh dear lord can that child make a scene when
she wants, and I tried my best to avoid that. Besides, I knew it was only
because she cared, even if she was testing my patience.

So I told her about the one on my shoulder that
barely missed the bone, and the two on my abdomen. She burst out with her
"Oh lord! Lord! Not her abdomen, Lord!" Crouching down and feeling on
my stomach as if I were pregnant or something. I couldn't help but laugh, she's
hysterical when she gets like this. She went on to ask if I could still have
children, I repeated the fact that I was perfectly fine. It only took her a few
hours and a couple glasses of sangria to believe me, and I'd assumed she'd put
the whole incident behind us. It just wasn't until I got the call from my
parents around nine o'clock that I'd realized she hadn't done it fast enough.

She's always been a little too vocal with my
secrets.

Knowing her, she told them out of concern for
my safety, but still, no excuse. Keep my private life private, thank you. And
they couldn't help but worry, after all it's damn near their purpose in life.
But as they say,
"Water under the bridge,"
right?

We drank, laughed, and gossiped until we
couldn't. I laid my head in her lap and fell asleep to the comfortable feeling
of her braiding my hair. Braids that definitely came out the next morning.

Tess was already awake when my alarm started
blaring the next morning. I didn't know this, nor was I conscious enough to
care. I just wanted the damn alarm to shut up, and unfortunately for me I've
got enough control over my abilities to make it do so. Not the best of choices,
and the dishrag she started slapping me in the face with definitely woke me up
anyway.

I could tell she wasn't being dramatic for the
sake of being such, and she wasn't foolish enough to dismiss what she'd seen as
anything other than what it was. So day two started off with an entirely
different sort of drama. She kept screaming at me to get up, and ignoring that
innocent fake groggy morning voice that everyone tries to use to seem innocent.
And of course it didn't work. Not one bit.

I swear she's like a dormant volcano, a walking
Mount St. Helens. I love her but, good God; if
she isn't causing a ruckus I don't think she's happy. So there I was, barely
awake, and listening to the
what's this'
and
why didn't you tell me's
that my sister feels so entitled to. So spoiled. Not that I'm not, but c'mon,
she's on an entirely different level. So I go through the motions of wanting to
explain myself, but all that came out was an awkward series of quick-stop
noises, and half formed words framed with flamboyant arm gestures. I have
absolutely no idea what I was trying to do. She was yelling, I was trying, and
emphasis on
trying
to speak, and in
the end I just made everything go quiet.

Bad move. She froze in shock for like two
seconds before she started screaming, and then she was screaming because she
couldn't hear herself screaming. And I was screaming because I needed
everything to shut up so I could think, then she's freaking out because she
could hear me but not herself. And before I knew it I was alone in the living
room and she was walled up inside my bedroom. I let the sound flood back in
once I realized what I'd done but I knew it was too late.

So she was shouting through the door, and I'm
trying to calm her down before the neighbors heard, while simultaneously
looking for the spare key to my door. And I could already hear her tapping the
numbers on her phone, so I was shouting for her to put it down and come out so
we can talk, and I knew she was talking to mom again, and everything was
falling apart because she never wants to calm down and talk things through. I
was running out of options, so I threw my voice inside the room and told mom
that Tess would call her back. Then I took the sound out of the room.

By the time I actually unlocked the door she
was sitting on the bed with the cell phone in front of her, steaming mad, but
quiet. She told me she'd already sent her a text. I looked at her before asking
to whom. She said, "To mom," as if offended by the question.

She's twenty-four and fully capable of taking
care of herself, but when it comes to me she devolves into a kid again, and I
know keeping secrets definitely doesn't make it better. She hates them,
especially among family, but I'm still working through this so I'm not exactly
in a place where I can confide in anyone without giving it serious thought. I
like to have things worked out and she knows this, but she doesn't care because
"A secret is a secret," and you don't keep them from family.

I asked what the text said, she hesitated
before saying,
"Prisca's a noc."
I was shocked, I'll admit.
And I'm not sure if I consider the word to be derogatory or not yet, but
hearing my sister say it sure put a knot in my stomach. I left without saying a
word and told her she could join me in the kitchen if she wanted to talk about
it like civilized adults, took her nearly half an hour to come out. When she
did, we talked about it and eventually laughed about it. I even gave her a
couple demonstrations.

She apologized though, that's what mattered
most. Altogether, definitely an interesting Saturday.

Alvin Turner
-

Kinda of funny how my feet only hurt when I'm
down- shifted and normal, definitely makes the workday a pain in the ass.
Especially when I involuntarily up-shift just to alleviate some of the pain.
Yeah, that's exactly what I need, to make my shitty job last even longer.

But let's move on, I'm not gonna mope about
that. Just came to note how odd it was Prisca called late last night, she
wanted a lift to the Sahara
Desert so she could get
some practice with her abilities. Said she felt too restricted in the city. I
was already in bed, two seconds away from what was sure to be a wonderful
night’s sleep, plus I had an early shift. So of course I helped. But let it be
noted that she can be very convincing, and a little intimidating, when she
wants. Couple that with a competitive attitude and you've got one feisty woman.
Definitely a turn on.

Better still, I ignored an entire night’s sleep
just so I could play test-dummy. How amazing is that? Though I think my most
poorly thought through phrase of the night was, "Give it your best
shot."

Does anyone else know she create a concussive
wall of sound? Because I'm pretty sure that's something she just found out.
Crazy cool.

–
4/11
–

Dennis Shaeffer
-

Like I've said before, I love to travel, but
perhaps I should add a qualifier: I don't want my face to melt off. It's just
not a good look for a man my age.

It was noon and the sun wouldn't let you forget
it, uncomfortably hot and insanely humid; sweat started dripping off me mere
seconds after we'd arrived.

Columbia
, large sweeping hills littered with poorly
built houses surrounded by lush jungle greenery as far the eye can see. Raphael
popped us into a quiet side street a few blocks away, but it wasn't like we'd
avoided looking like tourists who'd stepped a little too far off the beaten
path. A couple curious locals cautiously followed for a block or two before
finally going about their business. A wise choice.