Chaos (The Realmwalker Chronicles Book 1) (25 page)

BOOK: Chaos (The Realmwalker Chronicles Book 1)
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Chapter 39

“Okay, good. One
more time now—only faster,” Mel instructs patiently. “Remember, don’t completely let go of your original structure. Don’t let it change. MOLD it.”

“Okay.” I shake my arms and legs out in preparation. “Here goes.”

I repeat the process I’ve watched Mel do in her mind and body. I watch my reflection in the mirrored wall of the practice room as I shrink down to the floor and stretch myself out into a long snake-like form. I giggle at my appearance. I can’t get past how ridiculous I look.

“You laugh now, mate, but wait until you’re in a real jam and changing your form is the only way to survive,” she says defensively, sounding a little miffed.

“I’m sorry, Mel. I’m not laughing at the ability. It’s a perfectly legitimate one and extremely useful.” I release the form I’m in and watch in amusement as I expand upward and out, back into my original shape.

“It’s surprisingly fun.” She can’t understand how grateful I am for this distraction from the stress and drama.

“Besides, without you and this ability, I’d be dead right now.” I remember fondly the elongated rollerblading girl who saved me from being trampled to death.

She smiles at the memory. “You were so confused that night.”

“Can you blame me?” I stretch up while pulling my sides in until I am a nearly identical replica of how she had looked then—minus the rollerblades and helmet.

“Much better, Addy!” Mel claps encouragement.

Mel’s ability is so unique and fascinating it’s been surprisingly easy to get lost in training. Her command over her own body is incredible. It’s also the reason behind her limited healing abilities.

While I’ve managed to suppress my worry about Sam and Mikhail for most of the night, once we’re finished training, my uneasiness returns.

“Mel? Can I ask you something personal?” I ask when we get to the locker room.

“Sure,” she says through a grin.

“What’s it like with you and Ben?” I hesitate. “I mean, is it difficult? Both of you being Walkers?”

Her expression serious now, she takes a minute to answer. Different emotions dance across her face: Joy. Love. Then fear. And finally a deep sadness. “It’s the most wonderful and terrible thing.” I picture Sam’s face in my mind and feel those same emotions run through me.

I don’t press her further. Instead, we both clean up and change in a companionable silence. I hug her before leaving and thank her for sharing her ability with me.

On my way back to my room, I pass Simone in the hallway leading out of the training wing. She’s still the dark-skinned vision she was the last time I saw her. Fully dressed in workout clothes, she looks like she’s just finished a photo shoot for a Nike ad.

“Heard there’s been some drama,” she says conversationally.

I stop and face her, suspicious of her neutral tone.

“Looks like you survived.” She smiles at me.

Eyeing her warily, I answer, “Thanks to Mikhail.”

Her smile grows and stretches into a toothy sneer. “Yes, that’s right. You can’t seem to get anything right on your own, can you? Even after all this training you’ve done.” She shakes her head. “I thought Mimics were supposed to be USEFUL.”

Shattered by her words, I can’t manage to find any of my own in reply. Looking pleased with herself, she turns on her heel and walks away down the hall, a happy bounce in her step.

How does she do it? How does she manage to get right to the heart of the matter EVERY TIME? It’s like when I was afraid of being assessed by Angel. She knew I was terrified of finding out I had no abilities. She knew, and she rubbed it in my face.

Devastated, I realize the worst part is that she’s right. I have no defense against her accusations. I’m perfectly capable of getting myself out of trouble. I’ve been given the tools. I just haven’t used them like I should. I’m a liability, not an asset, and everyone knows it.

But no more.

By the time I’m lying in bed, I’ve made up my mind. Tomorrow night I’m going out into Chaos. I’ll never learn to fight unless I’m tested in actual combat. The only way to overcome this fear is to face it.

Head on.

Chapter 40

“But that’s not
fair!” I know I sound like a petulant brat, but my anger’s making me inarticulate.

“I don’t have time for this, Adelaide. I’ve given you an answer.” Sam stands solid as a totem pole, crossed arms, stern face, and all.

“I’ve done everything you’ve asked.” I try hard to control my frustration. “Not only have I finished my basic training, I’ve learned every Walkers’ ability, except for Simone and Mikhail. I’ve worked my butt off this weekend. I’m getting tired of asking.”

“And I’m getting tired of telling you. The answer is no.”

It takes all my effort not to stamp my foot in rage.

When I woke up Saturday morning, I told Mom I was still feeling sick from the night before. She suggested I stay in bed and try to sleep it off. I spent nearly the entire weekend in Major Calm finishing my training. The other Walkers were eager to help.

First, Ember taught me how to create fire from nothing, then how to control it. Later that night Crank taught me how similar his ability to manipulate water was to Ember’s ability to use fire. Once I mastered one element, I could more or less figure out the others.

I worked around the clock, only waking Earth-side to take care of certain necessities and to consume astonishingly large amounts of food. When fatigue threatened to slow my progress, I would practice my healing abilities, strengthening and revitalizing my own body and mind. With each new ability, my confidence grew. So did my determination.

The moment Sam returned to Major Calm Saturday night, I asked him about field training. I’d barely gotten the words out of my mouth before he shut me down.

“You’re not ready yet,” he said. “You still haven’t acquired everyone’s ability.” Disappointed, I quickly learned arguing was pointless. Even pleading was out of the question. The only way I was going to get what I wanted was to give him what he wanted. So I set about finishing my training as quickly as I could.

Lang-hao’s approach to his ability was surprisingly spiritual.

“Everything is a part of God’s creation, from human beings to the smallest particle of matter. There’s a natural order to all things and God has given us that order. As humans, and His children, we are given command over all other matter.” The red brick he brought into the target range with us zoomed around the room, hitting target after target, as he continued to explain.

“Once you ‘see’ this brick, all the way down to its smallest part, you can command it to do anything and it must obey. This is our privilege, our birthright.”

Sunday morning Ember pulled up outside my house in a cherry red ‘67 Mustang convertible. She insisted she’d be fine on her own and encouraged me to sleep when I could to continue my training. She seemed as eager to get me out into Chaos as I was. I was thankful for her support.

Ben’s ability was the most complicated. I watched his mind as he worked in his lab on a number of different equations and experiments. It was difficult tracking his thoughts. Lightning fast, there were so many happening at the same time in different parts of his brain all at once. It was nearly impossible to follow everything going on in his head.

I quickly realized this was an ability that would take a long time to learn. While incredible, I didn’t see Ben’s ability as essential to my defense and determined to train more with him another time.

I was ready to confront Sam again.

So here I am, standing in the doorway of Logistics, obstinately refusing to move from Sam’s only exit. I’d gotten lucky finding him here—between running missions and trying to find Mikhail. I’d caught only brief glimpses of him this entire weekend. I also suspected he’d been purposely avoiding me in order to postpone this conversation.

While the missions had been a success—I’d heard from other Walkers that the number of Lesser Shades was starting to thin out—Sam had been unable to locate the Russian. Some Walkers had reported seeing him out in Chaos fighting Shades, but he was never in one place for very long.

“What’s your excuse now?” I challenge, raising my voice.

Sam exhales, a frosty look in his eyes, reminding me of a bull forcing steam out his nostrils.

“You’re not going out there until we know more about this Greater Shade and what—”

“There’s been NO sign of him!” I cut him off. “Not one sighting since that night!”

“For all we know, he’s saving his energy and biding his time until you leave the safety of Major Calm.”

“So, what then? You’re going to make me stay here forever?”

“If I have to.” His determined gaze is unwavering.

“No,” I say meekly, my rigid defiance draining from my body. “Sam, please.” I place a hand on his chest. “I was brought here for a reason.” For the first time he looks away, unwilling to look me in the eyes as I say what he knows is the truth.

“That reason wasn’t to sit here and hide. I’m ready. I know I can do this.” The muscles in his jaw flex as he clenches and unclenches his jaw.

“Don’t you believe in me?” I choke the words out, hating how vulnerable I feel. Hating how much I desperately need his approval.

He places a hand over the one I’ve laid on his chest. He squeezes it gently but still refuses to look at me.

“Of course I do.” He nods. “But I believe in Timothy and Lang-hao as well. And together the three of us couldn’t even scratch this bastard. Until I know what he’s up to and how to stop him, I’m not letting you anywhere near him.” He reaches out and grabs me by the shoulders. Before I can react, he’s lifted me up and out of his way and disappeared around the corner.

The following week is miserable. Sam manages to avoid me almost entirely. On the rare occasions when I do see him, we both adamantly refuse to acknowledge each other’s presence. I’m angry and hurt. He’s stubborn and bossy. We’re at an impasse, both believing that we’re the one who’s right.

This is NOT the way I’d envisioned things. Instead of getting closer to Sam, we’re growing farther apart. Instead of fighting Lesser Shades, I’m stuck here in the library memorizing this enormous, ancient, leather-bound book
The Walker Chronicles
. Without the other Walkers’ support and sympathy, I’m sure I’d have gone loony by now.

Nearly all of the Walkers at one point or another this week have expressed mild confusion and disbelief at Sam’s insistence that I remain within Major Calm.

Angel’s been especially helpful in keeping me distracted. On my first night of what I’m calling “lock-down,” she tasked me with pushing my “feelers” out as far as I could into Chaos so that I could be aware of everyone’s state of mind. Once I managed to do this, she told me to stay that way all night.

“This must become a constant habit for you. You need to be able to recognize danger at any time, all the time.”

At first it’s difficult to keep my feelers out while performing other tasks, like working out with Kira or studying history in the library, but by the end of the night, it’s become automatic. Like breathing.

Each night Angel finds me and charges me with an additional task. Be aware of the space in Major Calm at all times in case a weak spot appears. Be on constant alert for any approaching unfamiliar “frequencies” in case a new Walker is being called to Chaos.

My respect and admiration for this little girl grows each night as I come to realize how much work goes into maintaining safety here. And with each new responsibility I take on, Angel’s burden becomes lighter. The effect is obvious.

She seems to grow visibly younger. Nearly every time I see her she’s smiling or laughing. I even catch her skipping through the halls. I don’t mind the extra work if it means that Angel gets to be a kid for the first time in her young life.

It’s Thursday night now and I’m in my usual chair behind the giant oak desk in the library, buried deep in the accounts of the nineteenth century Realmwalkers. I’m trying very hard to focus on the writings, but as I read the entries—stories of adventures and battles and amazing abilities—I find it difficult not to be jealous and feel sorry for myself.

I sense a Walker approaching and immediately recognize it as Angel’s bright, sunny spirit. My sense is confirmed when I look up in time to see her jog through the door of the library, grinning widely, her white silk hair bouncing behind her.

“Hi Addy! It’s a lovely night, isn’t it?” she says cheerfully, hopping into the chair opposite the desk.

“I can’t say I agree,” I grumble. Even Angel’s exuberance isn’t enough to lighten my mood tonight. “More tasks?”

“Nope. Not tonight!” She grins and spreads her arms out dramatically. “You’re done! I’ve taught you everything I can teach you, aside from what you’ll learn from experience,” she rambles excitedly, “and THAT you’ll have to learn on your own. Once you get out and test yourself, of course. Oh, and you’ll be great. I know it!”

I smile. She’s a young bird chirping up a storm, excitedly bouncing around on its spindle legs.

“I just wanted to check on you, ya know? I know this has been a long week. How are you doing? How are things with Simone?”

I’m caught completely off guard. My mouth hangs ajar as I try and scramble for some excuse or another.

“Uhhh …”

“Hmmmm, not good then, huh?” She puts her hands on her hips and pushes her mouth over to one side of her face as she considers.

“I’m sorry, Angel. I’ve tried! I mean, you can lead a horse to water and all …”

“And Simone can be one stubborn horse.”

More like jack-ass.
I think to myself and then shoot Angel a guilty look, hoping she didn’t overhear that thought.

“Please, Addy, don’t give up.” The pleading in her eyes cuts me deep. “You’ve helped me so much this last week, taking over my responsibilities. I can’t tell you what it means. But Simone is suffering and it weighs on me.” The youthfulness leaves her and she’s again an adult in a child’s body.

Simone’s suffering? I reach for Simone’s awareness and find her in her room. I lightly skim the surface of her mind. What I find is anger. Anger and bitterness. I’m not surprised by this. I dig a little farther down, avoiding thoughts and focusing instead on emotions. What I find below the anger surprises me. There’s doubt there. Insecurity. And even deeper than this, a tender, raw ache.

I try hard to understand. I think of how a normally passive animal will become nasty when wounded and cornered. Is this who Simone really is? Under the meanness, is she just a scared, wounded creature?

Someone clears their throat and startles me out of my thoughts. Looking up, I’m surprised to find Faye standing behind Angel. She holds her hands folded in front of her, a kind but tired smile on her face. Her gray hair is pulled back into a haphazard bun, and a few stray wisps fall around her scarred face. I haven’t had much opportunity to get to know Faye. She’s rarely in Chaos, spending nearly every waking minute at work in the E.R., forever trying to recompense her imagined crime.

“I’m sorry. I hope I’m not interrupting,” she apologizes.

Angel motions her forward. “Not at all! Have a seat.”

“I won’t take too much of your time,” she says somewhat breathlessly. Faye always seems to give the impression that she’s in a great hurry. Even when she is talking directly to you, she still seems to be a bit preoccupied.

“Everything’s all right?” I ask, feeling outward to make sure she’s in a calm state.

“Of course, of course.” She waves away my concern. “I was thinking, Addy, about your predicament.” Her English accent, I note, isn’t as pronounced as Ben’s. “I hate to stir up trouble, but I really don’t agree with Sam’s decision to keep you from fighting. It’s not right, and I wanted to let you know that there IS a way around this.”

“What?” I spit out.

“Boss’s word is not law,” she says matter-of-factly, eyebrows raised.

I stare wide-eyed at her. “But, what can I do?”

Angel’s face lights up. “Faye, you’re brilliant!”

“What?” I demand.

Faye explains, “The newest Walkers might not know this, but the Boss’s decisions are not the final word. This is a democracy. If there’s ever dissent within the ranks, we can put the issue at hand to a vote.”

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