Erica watches me carefully, as if I’ve failed some kind of test. Her gaze fixes on Joe’s outstretched hand.
I look at Joe’s hand then at Matt’s earnest expression. The kindness in Matt’s blue eyes almost brings tears to mine. “If you don’t mind, guys, I think this is something I’d rather do on my own. Without an audience.”
Matt nods and steps away, eyes dimming in a way that concerns me, but I can’t put my finger on why.
I don’t take Joe’s hand, but I follow him out of the cave into the moonlit valley and back to the training ground. The sky is clear and stars twinkle. The fact that we’re alone together suddenly swims into my consciousness. Nervous, I struggle to keep up with his long strides and end up jogging past him with my speed ability. I’ve wanted to touch him before, but there will be nothing romantic about this situation.
When we arrive in the meadow, Joe sits on the fallen tree trunk. Moonlight glints on a patch of smooth pebbles. Crickets chirp all around us.
“How’re the ribs?” Joe asks as he places his hands on either side of the trunk.
“Better.” I pluck at the bandage. “Thank you for the bandage.”
“Anytime.” Joe’s lips lift and he picks up a couple of the stones and clunks them together in his large hand. “How come you’re so afraid to touch me?”
I stand in front of him. “I’ve touched you loads. You carried me back from the compound, remember?”
He looks up at me. “That’s hardly the same thing.”
I frown. “And yet I didn’t turn into a bulk.”
Joe’s warm eyes settle on mine. Fireflies glow in the forest all around and in the grass at our feet, like someone has lit a million tea-candles.
“I assume it’s because you’d already exhausted your abilities. I’m sure now that you’re rested, it will happen.” He holds out his hand and smiles. A smile so full of warmth that I believe he has faith in me. Idiot.
Instead of taking it, I step up onto a fallen tree and walk the length of it, then turn around and walk back. At least now we’re somewhere near the same height.
“I don’t want to be a bulk.” To be so big, so masculine, something so unlike who I feel inside.
“It’s only for an hour. You get to turn it on and off at will.”
“But I won’t look the same.” I fiddle with my necklace. “I don’t want to be so… big.”
“It’s a relative term. Right now, to me, you’re tiny.” Joe chuckles. “The world has come a long way. There are plenty of shops available for bulk clothing. Ceilings and doorways were raised. New cars made. Although, with the world how it is, maybe not right now.”
My toes itch. I want to get this over with, but I also don’t want to do it at all. “I’ll split my clothing and you’ll think I’m really ugly.”
Joe waggles his eyebrows and I burst out laughing. There’s a glint in his eye that I recognize: longing. I breathe in and realize he shares the same thoughts as me. About us. The realization makes my fingertips tingle with anticipation.
“Why do you care what I think?” Joe asks.
I don’t have an answer.
He stands. “You could never be ugly.”
The meadow quiets. A gentle breeze cools my body and tickles the nape of my neck. We stand side-by-side, arms almost touching. The hairs on my arms stand to attention, as though they’re trying to close the gap between us.
Joe stares at me with a hard intensity. With me on the tree, we’re eye level. He leans toward me, closing the distance between us. My eyes close as his head dips. It feels like an eternity before his lips touch mine. Soft and probing, his mouth parts, and I can’t think anymore. It’s just him and me and this evocative warmth between us. He pulls me against his armored chest, and the kiss loses all hesitancy.
I kiss him back, harder, a hunger taking control of my body. His hands tangle in my hair. He picks me up, and then we’re lying on the grass. He leans over me, one hand still caressing my neck, the other setting the skin at my waist on fire as he explores under my T-shirt. I trace the curve of his biceps and the contours of his impenetrable skin.
“I’ve wanted to do that from the moment I met you,” Joe says.
My lips tingle. Then sting. Without warning, pain shoots through my limbs, as though I’ve been tied to a rack and stretched. I should have expected it. I fight to breathe as my arms and legs spasm. Gasping, I curl into a ball.
“I’m here, Silver. I’m here,” Joe says.
I look at my arms. They are as smooth as Joe’s, and they’re three inches longer. I look at my legs. My knees are not where they used to be. Newly formed muscles strain against the seams of my trousers and my ankles poke awkwardly out the end. My feet throb inside my too-tight boots. The chain of my necklace tightens around my throat and my skin changes to armor.
So this is what it feels like to be a bulk. I struggle to my feet. That’s when I feel the itching at the end of my fingertips, in my shoulder sockets, ankles, and hips. An itching that grows into a painful pressure, as though a phantom person has reached their hands into my body and is pulling it apart. I stumble. My center of gravity feels off, as if I’m a toddler learning to take my first steps.
When I catch my breath, I look up to find Joe standing before me, almost eye-level. I’m not as tall as him. As with all the abilities I’ve gained so far, it seems I don’t possess their full power, but it’s still enough of a height growth to make me dizzy. Joe’s arm supports me and I keep my gaze locked on the point where our skin touches.
“How do you feel?” Joe asks.
“Big,” I reply. There’s no other word for it. Joe chuckles.
“Let’s do the obstacle course,” he says.
“In the dark?”
“I think there’s enough moonlight to see by.”
Taking his hand, I follow him to the start of the course: the tires, which I merely leap over. The wall of hay is a simple hop and a jump. The swing effigies bounce off my armored skin if I miss them with my knife. Nothing hurts. Everything feels alive.
“You feel like this all the time?” I ask, when we stop to rest.
“I’m kind of used to it now,” Joe says, the tips of his fingers pressing against mine. “I’m glad you have the ability so I can touch you without you flinching.” He kisses me again, and I kiss him back. But something in the back of my mind niggles. A whispered warning that refuses to make itself clear.
I scooch away.
“Silver?” He reaches for me.
I scan his handsome face, wanting to trace the contour of his jaw. I resist. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Do you not… I thought… Hell, I don’t know what I thought.” Joe finds the pebbles again and slaps them together, their grating noise distilling the moment. He won’t look at me.
“It’s not you…”
Tension appears in his cheeks. “Do not say ‘It’s me.’”
I sigh. “It’s my parents.”
“I wasn’t expecting that.” For once, Joe’s voice is a whisper.
I take the pebbles from his hand and put them on the ground. “It’s not that I’m not interested, but I can’t think about it with my parents in prison. They’re so close. Maybe after we get them out…”
Joe smiles, a hint of dimples flashing in his golden cheeks. “I get it.”
I sit when a cloudy sensation in my head makes me teeter. “Blame it on President Bear. That’s what I do.”
“Another reason he should be dethroned.” He kicks at the fallen tree and it snaps in half. “He gets in the way of the love lives of horny teenagers.”
A giggle bursts out of me, as well as a blush.
Joe looks me up and down. “You’re shrinking.”
“Shrinking?” I take a step back.
“Losing the bulk power.” Joe towers over me once again.
When I examine my body, I’ve lost the hard, armored skin. My clothes, although with a few holes along the seams, fit me again. I press a thumb against the deli
cate area in the hollow of my throat and wind the chain of the necklace around my finger.
“What’s next?”
“Rest,” Joe replies. “You’ve worn yourself out again and can’t take on any more abilities. It’s late. Let’s get some sleep and we’ll find the other altereds in the morning.”
The long, wild grass tickles my skin through the holes in my clothing.
“Adjusteds,” I say.
Joe rests his hand on the small of my back and guides me out of the meadow. “Huh?”
“They’re not altereds. At least the ones living in the cave. You’re not an alt.” I look at him. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were.”
“You woke up injured in a deserted, dilapidated house with a bulk towering over you. I can see how you thought I was an altered.”
I throw one of my acorns at him. It dinks off his hard skin and rolls to the ground. “I guess. I just never understood the different mentalities. There was a line. Unadjusteds on one side and altereds on the other. Now I see that was a rather naïve assessment. There are so many lines.”
“True.” Joe tucks a few strands of loose hair behind my ear.
I grab his wrist and press my lips against the pad of his thumb. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saving me. For being here.”
“Always.” His eyes shine with the longing for something more.
That night I can’t sleep, not with Joe sleeping so close in the next hollow and the memory of our kiss lingering. I pluck at the guitar Matt gave me, playing a melody, singing the freedom song under my breath.
When you hear the lone wolf howling,
When sky comes crashing through.
With all the hellhounds growling,
If it ends, just me and you…
Just close your eyes and breathe in deep,
Look to the new sun’s sky.
Because our voice is freedom,
And they will hear us cry.
The days drag by as I wait for something to do and someone to rescue. I walk the passageways, and when I enter the deserted main chamber in the middle of the day, a clang comes from the kitchen, followed by a curse. Then there’s a blur of movement as a person flees the area down a passageway I haven’t walked before. I use a burst of speed to follow them, but I end up tripping over the uneven ground and losing them in a dark tunnel.
Returning to the kitchen, I discover some of the supplies are open and strewn over the floor. It’s best to let Matt know, I decide.
I find him in a small alcove, bent over a wobbly workbench, clipping wires and sweeping up gunpowder.
“Again?” He puts down a pair of pliers.
I nod.
“How will we have enough food to rescue people if it’s all going missing?” He pulls at the roots of his hair. “We’ll need to start an investigation.”
He picks up the cutters again and pounds a few things on the table. “I’ll have a word with Francesca.”
When Jacob finds me later, I follow him to the training ground, where Joe is waiting. Over the last few days, since our kiss in the meadow, he’s helped Claus train the population of the cave. In between taking abilities, he’s been testing me. He times how long my abilities last. We realize I need a six-hour rest before I can use them again.
I know he’s been true to his word and not told anyone about my abilities, but the secret leaks. I’m angry for a couple of days, looking for someone to blame, but then I realize it’s a wasted emotion. I just need to get on with it. If it brings back my parents, who cares if people know?
Claus sometimes pits me and Kyle against each other, and a few people come to watch us spar. My muscles become more toned, my instincts quicker than any animal and my reflexes almost superhuman. But I guess that’s the point of abilities. To be beyond human. To evolve into something else.
Jacob stands before me, wearing only a pair of black karate trousers. His chest rises and falls with his breaths. With his tattoos snaking across his olive skin, he looks zebra-like.
According to the nanite code, teleportation is a class nine. Only those in key governmental positions or at the top of their sport qualify. With a black belt in karate, it’s one I qualify for, but Bear would never allow me such a powerful nanite with the parents I have. He would give me something in class one. Something demeaning, like an extra row of teeth.
“Silver?” Joe asks, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You ready?” He sits on the fallen trunk and scribbles notes onto a pad of paper for Claus, who is busy testing newcomers in the weapons chamber.
Jacob shoots me a nervous smile. “What do I do?”
“Just hold my hand,” I say.
He takes my hand, then immediately teleports a few feet away. His smile turns sheepish. “Sorry; I know it’s going to hurt. I hate hurting people.”
I chuckle. “Except in competitions.”
He teleports back. “Yeah, right. Except in competitions.”
I grab his hand again and hold it firmly. The pain centers at the base of my skull and pushes at my temples. For the few seconds it takes to acquire the ability, I can barely breathe. I grit my teeth and pray the nausea rolling in my stomach won’t rise any higher.
“You OK?” Jacob asks. His forked tongue flicks between his lips.
I nod. Weirdly, only my rib aches now. “How does it work?”
Jacob flashes his reptilian eyes at me. “You can only ever jump a distance of six feet, but it can get you out of a tricky spot when necessary. Don’t over-egg it. Not that you’ll be using it in a competition anytime soon, but if you misjudge, you can end up outside the ring and be disqualified.”
“Or in a tree, or something,” I mutter.
Jacob laughs. “If that happens, the solidity of the object senses you and pushes you right out again. No harm done, but it doesn’t feel great.”
I roll my eyes, then prepare for my first jump. I aim for a tree six feet to Jacob’s left and end up halfway between him and the trunk. I sigh. This one will take time to master. And no doubt it will have its own limitations, just like the others. I’m about to try again when I catch fleeting movement in the trees.
“Someone’s here,” I say. “Should anyone be here?”
Joe looks up from the tree. “No. Wait here.” He darts through the meadow and into the woods. I hear branches moving and twigs snapping, then a cry of alarm.
A couple of minutes later, Joe returns with Sawyer in tow. Both of them carry bags of flour and other food.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “Have you been on a food run, Sawyer?”
“That’s not what this is,” Joe says, scowling.
I look from Joe to Sawyer, to the bright red of his cheeks, to the flour in his arms. He tries to shrink into his mop of corkscrew curls. “You’ve been stealing the food? I’ve had half a roll for breakfast the last three mornings because of you?”
Sawyer drops the sack and backs away. “I’m so sorry.” His thumbs circle each other. “I’m used to taking food whenever I see it.”
I frown and look him up and down. Although slim, he isn’t too thin. “Why?”
“I’ve been living on the streets for five years. I ran away from the foster system. The streets are better.” He pushes the words through gritted teeth. “And if those soldiers at the beach figure out about the cave, it’s good to have a second location.”
Joe points a finger at him. “Not when you don’t share it with anyone else.”
I don’t have the heart to ask him what happened. Not with his foster parents, anyway. I spot a small scar on his neck running under his collar. It looks like a cigarette burn. More than one. “Where did you get the ability?”
Sawyer tilts his head and looks up at me. “Living on the streets gives you a certain amount of knowledge. There was a particular alley I lived in for a while because it had a huge porch overhang where I could keep dry. Then one of the buildings in it got condemned and was vacant for a whole year. I could sleep inside. Cl
osest I ever got to security.” His eyes dim as he drops his gaze again. “Anyway, that same alley is where a lot of the black market nanite distribution took place. One night, I saw one of the dealers drop a pill.”
Jacob’s thin dark eyebrows rise. “So you took it?”
Sawyer nods. “Figured an ability might get me off the streets.”
Joe whistles. “Telekinesis is a class ten nanite. If they found you…”
“I know,” Sawyer says, a small shudder running through his shoulders. “I stayed on the streets, using it to help me with magic tricks. I made enough to eat and sometimes rent a room in a motel with a shower. But I knew I had to keep a low profile. I’m always looking over my shoulder.”
Pity swallows my anger. “I don’t really know what to say.”
Jacob’s forked tongue sweeps between his lips as his eyes follow Sawyer’s every twitch.
“Please don’t make me leave. I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Sawyer looks at his shoes, which are covered in flour.
“Maybe you could come with us on the next supply run,” I say.
Sawyer freezes. “Can’t I just give the food back to you? I can’t go out there again. Not after the beach… I can’t. Please don’t make me.”
“OK. OK.” Joe lays a hand on Sawyer’s shoulder, making him jump. “We’ll talk about this later. Put the food back. If any goes missing again, I know where to look.”
Sawyer blows a stray curl out of his eyes. “Thank you.” He raises his head. “But one more thing: please don’t tell anyone else about this.”
Joe looks at me. I shrug. “I’ll have to tell Francesca, but I don’t see why anyone else needs to know.”
“Thanks,” Sawyer replies, then scampers away as quickly as he can.
“Do you think we can trust him?” I ask.
Joe watches his retreating back. “I’m pretty sure he’s learned his lesson.”
I dig at a bulbous root with my boot. “But there’s a price on my head.”
“He’s not interested in money,” Jacob says. “He just doesn’t want to be hungry anymore.”
Over the next few days I take on the abilities of everyone in the cave. People become alive with chatter about my new powers and the upcoming rescue. Claus replaces my obstacle course and knife training with ability tests. Crowds form to watch my trials. The attention embarrasses me, but no matter how private an area I seek to test my abilities, a crowd always follows. After the first day and dozens of well wishes, I cease caring and take some pride in impressing an audience.
The Unadjusteds Page 18
