The Unadjusteds

by Marisa Noelle

  “Because Addison…” My indignation peters out. I don’t want him to know how I know things.

  The president folds his hands behind his back. “Your parents are in the city, Silver, refusing to cooperate with my requests. Now that you’ll be joining us, I think they’ll realize the proper motivation.”

  I lean as close as I can to the desk. “If you do anything to them…”

  President Bear laughs. The condescension burns in my veins. I want to snap out of my bonds, but I won’t risk the venom or reveal my abilities. I need to stay cool. I glance at Kyle. His eyes are closed but his breathing is regular. Passed out from the pain.

  “Why are the altereds all losing their shit without the unadjusteds?”

  President Bear raises his one massive eyebrow. “Altereds? Now, now, Silver, that’s a little prejudiced.”

  He smiles—a pink slit in the middle of a heavy beard, wet and shining like a newborn earthworm. “To answer your question, thanks to the willing participants of the unadjusteds in the compounds, we’ve discovered that those who have taken more than one animal modification need to be around unadjusted humans or those with only human modifications. Otherwise they lose their humanity. According to your father, the animal DNA overrides the human DNA and takes over. Those most severely affected revert to more primal, basic urges, but it’s a good thing.”

  Tense muscles ripple along the back of my neck. “A good thing? How can you say killing sprees are a good thing?”

  “Well, yes, that was unfortunate, but now we are on the brink of a massive shift in evolution. A new species. Once we solve this problem, we will grow as a new species.”

  I frown. “What’s wrong with being human?”

  Bear’s wet lips curl again. “Oh, Silver. Have you really learned nothing?” He stands and walks to the small window. A deep frown forms as he stares outside. Gunfire sounds in the distance. “It seems the extra troop of soldiers hasn’t been able to contain the situation you and your friends started. I should have brought the bulks.” He sighs. “I’ll have to deal with this myself. Then we can talk some more. I’ve been enjoying our little chat.”

  Before passing me, President Bear lays a massive paw on my bare shoulder. Pain sizzles through my body. I grit my teeth and hold my breath, trying to appear normal. Fighting against the pain of new abilities, I hold my breath.

  President Bear marches to the door. I work up a mouthful of saliva and spit at his back. He merely laughs and slams the door behind him, locking it. His footsteps fade away.

  I give in to the pain. Every nerve sings with a new kind of heat. Every muscle twitches uncontrollably and my bones shift as if I’m transforming into another kind of thing altogether. My spine burns with an intense fire. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from passing out. President Bear has taken more than just spider and grizzly bear nanites, and now I have every single one of his abilities. It takes fifteen minutes according to the digital clock on the desk, much longer than I’ve endured thus far. But those fifteen minutes feel like an eternity. Black spots flood my vision.

  Until the pain fades away, I try concentrating on the words of my freedom song to distract me. When I’m ready, I rely on Sawyer’s telekinetic power. I haven’t yet practiced it fully, but I think I can manage it just enough to release my bonds. I’ve only used small instances of speed and bulk power, so I should have just enough energy left to get me out of this situation.

  Tensing every muscle in my body, I search for the telekinesis ability inside. A pinprick of a sensation forms right in the center of my forehead. I picture my hands tied behind my back, the webbing releasing. Moments later, the venomous white falls to the floor and I leap to my feet.

  I dash to Kyle’s side. He’s still breathing, but how can I move him with a broken arm and a sprained ankle? He’ll never be able to run. I can carry him as a bulk, but I won’t be able to defend us.

  The helicopter blades continue to thud overhead. I glance out the window and see Matt disappearing into the woods with Lyla. Unadjusteds run in all directions, most of them heading for the forest, but a few, separated by the firing trolls, dash to the ocean instead.

  “Silver,” Kyle calls.

  I crouch by him again.

  He props himself up on his good arm. “Go. You need to go.”

  “I’m not leaving you here.” I place a hand on his flushed cheek.

  Kyle shakes his head, then grimaces. “It’s OK. You don’t need me.”

  “That’s not true.” Then I remember the regeneration pill in my pocket. I fish it out and shove it between his lips.

  The pill works quickly, but I’m not sure it will be quick enough. When color floods his cheeks, Kyle pushes himself to his feet and sags against me, able to put only the slightest weight on his bad ankle. Regeneration pills can’t reduce swelling.

  “How do we get out of here?” He scans the room. “You can just break the door down, right?”

  I eye the solid, wooden door. “That leads to a maze of endless hallways.” I point to the window. “The forest is right there.”

  Transforming into a bulk, I smash the glass out of the window. With my armored skin, I clear the frame of the remaining fragments.

  “Get them! Don’t let them get away!” President Bear’s grizzly roar rushes through the window.

  “Now what?” Kyle asks.

  I consider using the flea ability to jump down from the window, but we’d still have to run. I’m not sure if Kyle is up to that, plus his speed and the jump’s impact might damage his still-repairing bones. Instead, I push part of the bulk ability away and summon my blue wings. I’ve practiced them for hours. Half bulk, half bird. Using two abilities at once drains my energy much faster, but we only need to reach the cover of the forest.

  I help him stagger to the window and balance on the empty frame.

  “Please don’t drop me.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I tuck my wings in close and curl my arms around Kyle, then push him out the window. For a moment, we plummet toward the ground, then my wings unfurl, catch an upward thermal, and slow our descent.

  Holding him with bulk arms, I beat my wings until my throat and shoulders strain with the effort. We rise into the air but keep under the blades of the thudding helicopter. President Bear stands atop the building, shooting webbing at the forest and unadjusteds below.

  We lock eyes. His jaw drops as he takes in my wings. Raising a hand toward me, a white froth forms on his palm. I fly backwards, a tricky task that’s much slower than going forwards, and transfer Kyle to one bulk arm. Raising the other, I sift through all the new abilities, trying to find the one.

  As President Bear’s webbing shoots toward me, I turn my palm and attack him with his own power. Silky, white thread spins out of my hand to meet the onslaught. But my energy is draining. My altitude dips and Kyle cries out a warning as a bullet whizzes toward us.

  The pressure of President Bear’s continual stream of webbing pushes me to the ground. A foot from the sand, I drop Kyle, who scrambles to his knees. Hal, armed with a gun and firing at the enemy, dashes by and grabs him. Now able to use both palms, I direct two streams of lacy white skyward. A mass of webbing forms in the sky where our two streams meet. I push the webbing with bulk strength, but my muscles shake with fatigue.

  Soon, I’ll be out of power.

  Silver!”

  I risk a glance over my shoulder. Matt runs out of the tree line onto the sand, spraying bullets from an assault rifle toward President Bear. Not that they can hurt him. He has the armored skin of a bulk. I felt it when I took his abilities.

  From his position on the roof, President Bear skirts a look to the trees. The unadjusteds have fled, some of the remaining trolls on their heels. Joe emerges from the forest and joins Matt in a volley of bullets. President Bear ducks. My knees give way and I sink to the sand, but I push the webbing out of my palms with every ounce of strength I have left. It’s all that stands between me and being captured.

&n
bsp; The president takes a step back. With one final push, a mass of his webbing tumbles all around me. He steps into the waiting helicopter, which quickly lifts into the sky. I try to follow it with my own webbing, but only little puffs of lace escape my palms. Joe fires his gun and manages to dink the side of the vehicle, but then it’s up and away. Gone.

  My body shudders. Blackness ebbs at the corners of my eyes. As the ground teeters, I slump onto Matt and pass out.

  When I wake, the smell of damp clay winds around me. I shiver and roll over. Soft fur surrounds my hand. Einstein. He chuffs and licks my neck, and I push the dog away. Fairy lights twinkle above my head, and I see Matt sitting on a sleeping bag. We’re in his hollow.

  “Hey,” he says, scooching closer. “You’re awake.”

  A severe headache battles inside my skull. “What happened?” I push the words past my dry throat.

  Matt hands me a water bottle. “You had an up and personal with President Bear. That’s what happened.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Careful not to rock the pain in my head, I push myself up onto an elbow. “How long have I been out?”

  “A couple of days. Taking on all those abilities took it out of you.” Matt catches the dribble of water running down my chin.

  “I don’t even know what they all are.” Just the memory of the abilities swimming inside my veins exhausts me.

  Matt squeezes my hand. “We’ll figure it out.”

  I reach for him. “Lyla? Did we get Lyla?”

  “She’s safe.” Matt’s eyes narrow. “And spending far too much time with Sawyer for my liking.”

  I laugh, but it hurts my head. “What about the others in the compound?”

  Matt makes a triumphant fist. “We managed to get most of the unadjusteds out.”

  “Most?”

  Matt’s gaze shifts down and he runs his fingers along Einstein’s ears. “There were a few casualties.”

  “My parents?” I ask, even though I know the answer.

  Matt looks at me, but I can’t read his expression in the dim lighting. “Not there, but I’m working on it.”

  My eyes prick with gathering tears that immediately add a squeezing pressure to the throbbing in my skull.

  “So Addison was wrong.” I massage my temples. “How did she get it so wrong?”

  “She feels awful about that,” Matt says. He rests his hands on my knees. “She was beaten up and probably misheard, or the soldiers lied to her. Maybe they recognized you from the warehouse. Maybe it was all a trap.”

  My hands drop from my head. “People died in the compound because of me.”

  “You can’t think like that.” Matt raises my chin with his finger. “You helped all those people escape. You saved Kyle.”

  “Who wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place if I hadn’t dragged everyone there,” I mumble, shifting out of his hold.

  “Everyone wanted to go.”

  I stare at his laceless sneakers. I don’t have the words to express the depth of my guilt. It’s something I’ll have to learn to live with. If I survive.

  After a pause, he asks, “You hungry?”

  I sigh. “Starving.”

  He gets to his feet. “Wait here.”

  Matt returns a few minutes later with a bowl of warm stew and a chunk of bread, but he isn’t alone. A woman with elfin slenderness stands beside him. Her face is as soft as a ripe peach, and the warmth in her eyes makes up for her angular points. A long, graying braid trails the length of her spine. She smiles maternally.

  “This is Joan,” Matt says, gesturing the woman into the room. “She’s a healer.”

  “A what?” I ask, risking the headache to sit a little straighter. I rotatecircle my shoulders, rolling out the aches.

  “A healer,” she says and crouches next to me.

  I look between the two of them. Their hesitant smiles make me hopeful. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It means she’s here to make you feel better,” Matt says.

  Joan touches my arm through my shirt. Within seconds, a warm, pulsing light surrounds her fingertips. Slowly, it ebbs its way over the rest of my body, bathing me in an invisible blanket of the most peaceful sensation I’ve experienced in months. The headache lifts. My muscles vibrate with a new energy.

  “Woah.” I press my fingers to my temples and pat around for the previous bruises, but nothing hurts. “I feel so much better.”

  Joan smiles and pats my arm. “You’re welcome.”

  Matt sits again and crosses his arms over his knees. “Joan has been helping with the injuries from the compound escape. We have fifty new members here now. All healthy.”

  “Not quite healthy. There are a few bumps and bruises around,” Joan says, fiddling with her braid. “My power only goes so far. The worse the injury, the harder it is, and some are too severe to alleviate.”

  Matt looks at her. “There are a lot of people in the cave who wouldn’t be alive without you.”

  “Did you come from the compound?” I ask.

  Joan nods and sits beside me.

  I dig into the plate of food Matt brought. “I’ve never heard of a healer before.”

  “Only a few of us were created. It was a secret project and only five or six I know of along the eastern seaboard were given one. I took the pill altruistically, wanting to help the desperate, the poor who couldn’t afford medical treatment, but that’s not what President Bear had in mind.” She cradles her braid and smooths out the rough ends. “Once Bear and the National Medical Board realized we could take money from them, that we could bankrupt the country with our powers and put insurance companies out of business, he ended the program.” A glowing aura surrounds Joan as she speaks. Delicate freckles dance on her nose.

  “They couldn’t allow that. The healer pills had only been available for six months when they realized this. They quickly discontinued them, and anyone found making or buying one afterward was sentenced to death. I know a few who tried; they were all executed. So there are not many of us in the world. If you’re willing, I could up our number so it’s one bigger.” Joan smiles at me.

  “One bigger?” I scoop out more stew with a hunk of bread.

  Matt taps my newly healed forehead as if there’s nothing inside. “You need to take on her ability.”

  The ability to heal. I’d no longer need to rely on the two remaining regeneration pills. If I’d had this ability when Kyle was hurt, I would have been able to heal him. Maybe. Joan said there are limitations, and no doubt I’ll be limited more, but whatever it can do, I’ll take it.

  This is the first ability I feel excited about taking on.

  Without warning, Joan clasps one of my hands in hers. The tingling starts immediately, but the pain doesn’t come. A soft light radiates from where Joan touches my hand. A warmth seeps into my skin, then deeper, into my muscles, then bones.

  My mind empties of emotional clutter and focuses on the growing light and warmth. It’s as though my soul has risen to the surface to make itself known. All that is pure within me connects with Joan, takes her offering and carries it back down into the depths of me.

  The glow and warmth vanish from my skin, and we sit in the light of the fairy lights and lanterns. Sadness swells in my chest with the disappearance of the glow and a few unexpected tears roll down my cheeks. Am I even worthy of such a powerful tool? I sense a darkness in me, an immaturity of heart.

  Claus’ words echo in my mind. With great power comes great responsibility.

  “We’ll need to test it to see if it worked.” Joan pats my knee.

  Matt plucks my knife from my belt and suddenly and decisively slices a gash across his palm. I gasp at the suddenness of the blood.

  “If you can’t do it, Joan’s still here.” Matt waits.

  Joan gestures for me to touch Matt. “You don’t need to actually touch the wound itself; you can touch any part of his body, but you must concentrate on the body healing itself. You are merely an instrument that can speed up the
body’s own processes. If it helps, I think about tiny white soldiers marching to repair the wound or disease.”

  I turn to Matt. The blood flow slows. I hesitate, unsure where the core of this new ability sits within my body. With Paige’s wings I felt the pain along my shoulder blades, with Kyle’s speed my calves and thighs rippled briefly in pain, with Sawyer’s telekinesis it was in the center of my forehead. But with healing I’m at a loss.

  I hold Matt’s palm in my hand. His hand twitches as he cups the spilt blood in his palm. Matt. My Matt. He was my one hesitation during all those hours I planned to escape, pulling me back, making me endure the commands of the president. I didn’t want to leave him. But with his hand sliced open before me, hardened and callused from setting up the surveillance equipment and building his grenades, he becomes mortal. To be protected. Love for my best friend swells in my chest, and the fear of ever losing him lashes holes in my core. It takes my breath away.

  I look from his face to our joined hands. My palm glows, and I know the key to accessing it is love: love of life, love of people. Pure, unselfish love. Matt’s palm knits together and the flesh becomes smooth as the thin ridge of the wound disappears. All that remains is the blood that escaped.

  “Well done,” Matt says, giving my arm a squeeze.

  I look at Joan. “You didn’t tell me the key is love.”

  Joan smiles like a proud parent. “You needed to discover that for yourself. I can’t feel the emotions for you; you had to find it, Silver, and you did.”

  “Can you heal yourself?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never needed to.”

  We repeat the experiment with my palm. I wince as the blade slices across my hand. Holding my injured hand in the other palm, I focus on the wound. After a few minutes, I begin to worry I’ll be left with a scar, but then the wound reduces into a thin line before disappearing. It’s much harder to perform on myself and I don’t fancy trying it on a more serious injury.