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Authors: Steve Delaney

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BOOK: The Talented
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breathe

All at once the men gasped for air, coughing and sputtering. They were disoriented for a moment, looking at each other, then at me.  Before they gained their bearings I issued several more silent commands to them. The sound of a woman screaming turned my attention towards the house, which was already burning intensely. The heat was becoming uncomfortable, even from here. Checking that Kate was safely with Stuart, I ran into the flaming house.

Summoning the last of my will, I reflected the heat around me away as much as I could. Too bad I had nothing left to help with the smoke, which stung my eyes and lungs. My senses reached out through the flames to find the source of the screams. Before I knew what I was doing I approached the door to the basement. At least that’s what I thought it was, but I was not sure because a huge pile of flaming rubble blocked the door completely. More screams issued from below, both male and female. The twins.

Exhausted, but terrified, I used my fear to give me strength. Focusing my mind, I became one with the house and the fire, all of it now just an extension of who I am. All at my command. With a flick of my wrist the flaming debris flew aside and crashed into the nearby kitchen.

“Not again!!” screamed a voice from the dark stairwell. Probably Ashley. Up from the darkness rose Tracy and the twins, ducking below the smoke and holding scraps of Travis’ shirt over their mouths. Travis’ bare torso looked red, but maybe that was a reflection of the flames around us. Hopefully. Crying out at the pain in my head, I used my Talent to reflect as much heat from them as I could, then I lead them toward the front door.

As soon as we stepped out of the building, the heat around us turned to intense cold, so I released my hold over the temperature. That reduced my headache to merely intolerable, as opposed to excruciating.

The four of us collapsed at the circle drive, gasping and coughing. Lots of that going around that day. Over our coughing we could hear the sound of the flames sucking oxygen and glass breaking from the heat. The sound of a man clapping slowly caused us to look up.

“Well done. Very brave. Too bad it was all for nothing.”

The man who spoke was slightly taller than me, but whereas my build resembles that of a boxer, his frame carried the bulk of a power lifter. His cropped black hair turned mostly gray where it met his closely cropped beard. I was overwhelmed with an intense feeling that I knew this man, but could not remember who he was for the life of me….which might be literal in this case. For some reason he reminded me of Captain Nemo from the old Jules Verne novel that I would occasionally read to Gus. He was dressed in black and gray camouflage like the other attackers but didn’t carry a weapon that I could see. His black eyes were clear and intelligent. The three men I saved earlier now held their weapons at the ready, with Stuart and Kate handcuffed on their knees before them. The pure hatred that emitted from Stuart was more directed at me than at our enemies. Kate just seemed groggy and scared. Both of them were fitted with strange leather headgear that resembled old time football helmets. The last soldier had snuck around us and was busy handcuffing Tracy and the twins, fitting them with matching headgear.

My head pounding, I stalled for time to get myself together. “Ooh, I love football, can I be quarterback? Are you the cheerleaders?”

Undisturbed, Nemo said, “Didn’t know you were recruiting, Stu. Who’s the new guy?” Stuart remained silent for a moment, then answered, “He is not one of us, and has no stake in the company. In fact, he is nothing but a juvenile pest who failed us at the most critical time.”

“Failed you?,” I stammered as I rose to my feet. “Not hardly. Just because I wasn’t going to let you kill anybody isn’t a failure in my book.”

Tracy chimed in, “Stu, he saved us.”

Stuart snorted bitterly, “Saved you? He practically hand fed you to Harrison here.”

Ah. Captain Nemo is named Harrison. I liked Nemo better.

“Enough,” Kate said hoarsely, “Stuart, would you please explain to me what the hell is going on here?”

Looking uncomfortable, Stu reluctantly replied, “Harry here was the star of the Program before I showed up, weren’t you? He was a few years out of the academy when the fire struck.” Turning to Kate, he continued, “You were too young to know him, or the slut he ran around with in those days.”

Nemo/Harrison ran ten feet faster then I could turn my head and clamped his huge hand around Stuart’s fragile neck and lifted him clear off the ground with one arm.

“One,” he said calmly, then punched poor Stu in the face with a crushing blow. “Her name was Clare. Two.” He delivered another punch followed by a spray of blood from Stuart’s nose. “She was not a slut.” Then he cocked his arm back, and I could feel the power building in his fist just like I do it. Just like me. Hmm.

“Three. Don’t call me Harry.” His fist quivered and shook, when he realized that I was psionically holding it still with everything I had. He raised his eyebrows and nodded in what looked like appreciation, then flicked his palm in my direction, and what felt like a battering ram of invisible force slammed into me, sending me absurdly high in the air, clearing the top of the house by forty feet. My whole world was pain and fear, and black specks encroached on the edges of my vision. It must have been more than I could stand, so when I blacked out I retreated to a former source of comfort, away from the pain and danger. I was the Prophesier once more.

The northernmost mountain range on the red planet contained no life. In fact, the entire planet had been bereft of living organisms for ages. The lack of surface water, cold temperatures and toxic atmosphere were unsuitable to support almost all forms of life. Except one. A fog-like haze developed slowly, lazily amid the rocks. It began to coalesce into a roughly human-like shape. As an incorporeal being, the Prophesier had no need for water. The poisonous gas in the air did not harm him, for he had no need to breathe. He did not feel the cold on his ghostly cheek. However, it would be incorrect to assume that he did not feel anything. At this very moment he felt a distant beacon emanating from the sky. Or rather, from one of the neighboring planets beyond the sky. The distress call was simple and vague, but one thing was clear. The call was meant for him. The Prophesier followed the beacon to its source, observed, and spoke to it.

“Awaken.”

 

I opened my eyes to find myself tumbling through the air head over feet. I stabilized myself so that I was falling to the ground feet first, then I froze a corridor of air between me and the ground. The pressure in the corridor grew the closer I fell to the ground, the compressed air slowing my descent. I saw the grass twenty feet below me begin to flatten and I prepared to roll as best I could. I came almost to a complete stop three feet from the ground. Almost. My attempt at a somersault left me flat on my back. I was in a lot pain, but not badly injured. Totally amazed with myself, I allowed myself to say, “Cool,” after which Harrison’s control slammed into me, then yanked me back over the house like a human cannonball.

Not having quite as much momentum as I had when I flew over the roof the first time, my feet clipped the satellite dish painfully and before I knew it I crashed through the branches of a towering evergreen before collapsing to the hard ground. The last thing I heard was the sound of my bones breaking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHT

I barely remember the days that followed, although it was vaguely apparent that I was in a hospital and that Alicia was watching over me. Most of the time I dreamt that I was the Prophesier, but I have no specific memories of those dreams. Eventually, I became alert enough to feel out exactly how severe my injuries were. My legs, arms, back, ribs and skull all suffered fractures. There were a number of lacerations and a lot of bruising. My right lung had collapsed at some point, but the doctors seemed to have taken care of that already. From that point forward I gathered all my power to repair and strengthen my broken body. I labored day and night for weeks, working under a deep meditative trance. Everything that I can do can be done 100 times better if done while meditating. It’s hard to call what I do meditation in the traditional sense, since I never really learned how to do it properly. All I know I learned from watching kung fu movies on TV. First, I sit comfortably and breathe deeply and evenly. Then I pay attention to the feeling of the air moving in my lungs. From there I move on to my heartbeat and the blood flowing through my body. Then I progress organ by organ until I reach the skin. By this point there are no thoughts in my head whatsoever. In fact, my entire sense of self takes a temporary vacation. All that’s left is an acute awareness of things.  It’s a fully conscious state of being.

While taking short breaks from the trance, I had plenty of time to consider the person who did this to me. Harrison. Wow. He was incredible. Up until that point I had assumed that I was the most psionically talented person out there. What a joke. He brushed me off like an annoying insect. Cold fear fluttered in my abdomen as I considered the idea of going after him. Maybe I should just cut my losses, go back to Detroit and forget all this ever happened. Maybe that’s not an option anymore. He might come back to finish the job and I needed to be ready. It was not enough that I heal…I needed to become harder, stronger, and more resilient if I intended to go up against Harrison again. With this in mind I re-entered the deep meditative state, then took the healing to a whole new level and slowly but profoundly augmented my body at the cellular level.

One morning I heard a voice far in the distance, and the sound of it pulled me to the surface of my conscious mind.

“Adam…You are awake, aren’t you? Can you hear me? Because as pretty as you are, it has been weeks, and I have read all these stupid magazines ten times and there is no one to talk to and I’m bored.”

With my eyes still closed I allowed myself a smile, which stung a bit due to how dry and cracked they were. Still partly in the healing trance I focused on my lips and the pain subsided.

“Alicia. I was wondering when you would figure it out.”

I opened my eyes to find a very different Alicia sitting at my bedside, holding my hand between both of hers. Her hair was tastefully styled and held back with a clip, and she wore designer jeans with a matching blouse. While her eyes looked a bit tired, the rest of her appeared healthy and refreshed. There were empty bottles of spring water scattered around the room.

I continued, “You look amazing. Love the new threads.”

She smiled and replied, “I have a lot more where that came from at the hotel.” At my confused look, she explained, “I booked a room at the Marriott using your debit card. I hope that’s okay.”

“Fine,” I replied, squeezing her hand lightly, “Thanks for staying with me. It means a lot.”

With mock seriousness, she scolded, “Don’t get any ideas, Mr. Adam, that this all means more that what it is. You helped me clean up, I’m helping you heal up. Got it?”

Smiling, I replied, “Understood. You are in love with me and secretly hiding it. No problem.”

That earned me a dark look and an eye roll.

“Seriously,” I said, “how did I get here?”

“All I know is that when Miranda and I got back from shopping that big house was burning and four fire trucks were trying to put it out. They found you broken and bleeding on the ground and figured that you jumped off the roof to escape the fire. They were carrying you to an ambulance when I arrived, so I hopped in and rode with you. Oh, they think I’m your girlfriend.” Another eye roll.

I answered that only with a bemused look and a smile. After an awkward pause, I changed the subject.

“What about Kate and the others? Are they alright?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Kate replied, “They’re gone. I guess there were no bodies discovered in the house.” She leaned in closer, “Adam, what happened out there?”

What happened, she wants to know. It boils down to one thing: I failed. I made a promise to a woman that I could keep her safe and make everything okay, and that was a lie. Now Kate and her friends are missing, presumably dead. “I will tell you,” I said, “but you need to understand something about me.”

“You think?” She replied, “The doctors here are freaking out about you. They say there is something wrong with your muscles and skin, that they are thickening unnaturally, and they don’t know why. They did an MRI, I think, and the thickening is all throughout your body. I had them bring me a mirror so I could show you.”

Alicia held up a large circular hand mirror close to my face. It was worse than I hoped, but better than I feared. At a glance, it just looked like I spent too much time in the outdoors. My skin had a slightly weathered, leathery appearance. But looking closely, you could see that it was much thicker than skin ought to be, most noticeably in the eyelids and lips. It gave me a rugged look that wasn’t bad looking, but at the same time made me look ten years older. My teeth at first looked gleaming white, as if I had them whitened, but upon very close inspection you could see that the surface of the teeth was no longer perfectly smooth, but almost appeared faceted like a diamond. It was very hard to see in the mirror, but I could feel the texture of the surface with my tongue.

My hair had lightened a bit, and was now streaked with blond highlights, but for the life of me I could not explain why. Sometimes these body alterations have unintended side effects, and I never had taken things even close to this far in the past. It was about this time that I noticed that I didn’t wear a cast, even though I know that I must have arrived at the hospital with broken bones. “No cast?” I asked.

Alicia shook her head and replied, “They took them off after the MRI. The nurse told me that it caused a big stir around here, the bone doctors accusing the ER doctor of misdiagnosis, that sort of thing. So…”

After a pause, I asked, “So what?”

She continued, “So what is the real story? How did you heal so fast? What is going on with you?”

BOOK: The Talented
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