“So when you guys opened your eyes,” I said slowly, “there were three of us observing at once. Three stations trying to use the same airwaves.”
“Exactly. And it happens whether we are trying to tune or not.”
“So I can only tune in to resonance when no one is looking?”
“Correct,” Hackman jumped in. “Even if someone is observing through a secondary device, like a camera.”
That explained the static I got when I’d tried to tune back in my room. Someone was watching through the camera.
Hackman sat on a rusted metal chair, crossing his legs and leaning back. “However, the most powerful of us have learned to use our ability even when others are observing, to cut through the static and override the observations of others. The majority will never be able to tune that well. Most of us can only operate when nobody is watching.”
Noah’s actions during the attack started to make more sense. He’d made me close my eyes, and that’s when he’d brought down part of the Boulders on top of the cloaked figures. They must have been powerful, because they were firing at us even while we stared at them. If they were that strong, hopefully they really were dead now. Hopefully they hadn’t somehow survived out there, waiting to kill me whenever I left this place.
Wishing that scared me. During a fight with Mum or Dad, I might have said something like, “I wish you were dead,” but I’d never really meant it. It was just a stupid teenage outburst. But this desire was so much deeper. In the most honest place in my heart, I wanted those people to die. I wanted whoever killed Noah to be lying on the floor in front of me, breath gone, blood draining out while I ripped them apart with my new power.
Hoping neither Rachel nor Hackman could tell what I was thinking, I took a few deep breaths, swallowed my anger, and looked up.
They were staring at me.
Rachel’s mouth gaped wide open, and Hackman looked intently at a spot just above my waist. I looked at my pants, convinced my fly was open—and a little disturbed Hackman was staring at it.
But that’s not what he was staring at.
A dull orange light glowed level with my stomach, a small ball just in front of me. It was ethereal but warm, radiating from a central point with small, fiery tendrils spiraling out from the middle. Frightened, I jumped back, and the glow disappeared.
Hackman spoke before I could. “Ari, this is important. What were you just thinking about?”
“How did you do that?” Rachel asked. Without waiting for my answer, they began to speak, ignoring me completely. “She can flare.”
“Naturally. Without any coaching.”
“Why now, though?”
“The resonance training. It’s amplified her natural tuning.”
“We were looking at her. She broke through the interference.”
“Without even trying.”
“That level of ability ... It’s almost unheard of.”
“Almost.”
“Imagine the possibilities.”
“Hey!” I broke in, mad they were talking about me without explaining what was going on.
Hackman turned to face me. “Ari, that orange glow was the beginning of what we call a flare. You know how you’ve been learning to tune in to objects?” I nodded. “Well, a flare begins by tuning in to the air itself. It’s much harder to do, because air is so intangible and expansive. But when you accelerate the resonance of the air around you, it warms up. If you heat it enough, the oxygen in the air will catch fire. With enough training, you can create these pockets further and further away from your body.”
Noah’s death now made sense—the reason smoke had poured out of his chest. Someone had accelerated the air in his breath until it caught fire inside his lungs.
Noah had been burned from the inside out.
My stomach lurched. The pain would have been horrific.
“It’s not an easy ability,” Hackman continued, ignoring the sick look on my face. I was sure my skin was now pale. “But you created a small flare naturally. That’s incredible.”
“What were you thinking about?” Rachel demanded.
“I—nothing really.” I didn’t want them to know what I was feeling, to see that dark place inside me. Not just yet. Maybe not ever.
Rachel frowned. I wasn’t the greatest liar, but she glossed over my answer anyway and moved on. “Regardless, you’ve gotta be careful with flaring. It’s exhausting trying to focus on that much resonance. It can wear you out pretty fast. Try to use it as a last resort.”
I imagined using this against the men who took Skye, setting the air inside their lungs on fire, burning every last scrap of flesh inside them until they died of their wounds or the agony, whichever came first. It felt good.
A small glow, barely visible, formed in front of me. I was flaring again. Quickly, I thought about something else before the others noticed. Focusing on my hatred seemed to cause the flare, and the glow disappeared once I was distracted. Hackman was talking, but I wasn’t listening. I tried to pay more attention, and it helped me stay under control.
“It’s extremely difficult to flare with interference,” he was saying. “The fluid nature of the air and the already high level of focus required means that any level of interference will destroy a flare before it’s fully ignited, unless of course you’re extraordinarily gifted. It would be difficult for you to form a full flare, even with your natural abilities, without exceptional levels of training. Most never make it to that stage.
“That’s why stealth is one of our greatest assets,” he continued. “Distraction, disruption, secrecy—these are our first lines of defence but also our greatest offence. The less noticed you are, the easier it is to use your ability. Plus, the more you can keep your line of sight on your enemy, the harder it is for them to use their power.”
In other words, if I’d been more alert and observant that night, Noah might still be alive.
I tried not to dwell on the thought in case I started to flare again. “Why don’t you guys use guns?” I asked. I hadn’t seen any at all so far.
“They’re almost useless in battle with our enemies. A well-trained fighter can melt the bullets inside them in a few seconds, or worse—make the gunpowder explode and destroy the person holding it. In our kind of war, carrying a gun would be like carrying a grenade with the pin out. Projectile weapons in general are pointless against our abilities. Even blades are risky.” He thought for a moment. “The best way to learn stealth is to try it, so I’ll schedule a live training session for this afternoon.”
“A live what?” I repeated.
“A battle. In the arena.”
Rachel smirked. “You up for it?”
I swallowed hard. “Bring it on.”
NINETEEN
The afternoon came sooner than I was prepared for.
On the way to the arena, Rachel explained what was going to happen. The arena was where recruits proved their abilities under controlled, live-combat situations. There would be real people trying to take me out—mostly high-level trainers who’d developed enough control of their abilities to create flares that stung without actually injuring. “Kind of like paintball,” Rachel suggested, grinning. It wasn’t reassuring.
My job was simply to survive without being hit. It was a timed exercise, and the longer I could last, the better my performance would be. If I could last five minutes without being hit on my head or torso, it would be considered a pass. That would qualify me to join a Kindred unit as a trainee, bringing me one step closer to retrieving Skye and Mum.
Rachel would be with me for the first two minutes, coaching me through whilst the combatants went easy. After that, a siren would sound, Rachel would leave, and the others would throw everything they had at me. At five minutes, the battle would be over. My goal was to be standing unhurt at the end of it.
Rachel and I crossed the Apex, and Rachel gave a short rap on the shiny steel door leading to the west wing. A face appeared in the small window. “Live fire,” Rachel
said.
The face nodded, and a bolt in the door slid back. It swung slowly open, and my eyes watered from the stench of antiseptic, so thick I could taste it. This part of the complex was different from the east wing, where my room was. The roof of the east wing was rock, the corridors over there raw and leaky. It felt old and dingy. Over here, on the other hand, the corridors were made of shiny steel, and bright white fluorescent lights bounced off every surface, making it hard to distinguish between walls, ceiling, and floor. It was so formal, the air itself stood at attention.
Six doors lined this corridor at perfect intervals, three on each side. The first on the left was ajar, and when I peeked inside, I saw it contained a large wooden table surrounded by chairs. It looked like a meeting room. The second was set up like a lecture hall, but the other doors were closed.
We headed straight on, and the next corridor was identical to the first, except all the doors were shut. The third and fourth corridors were clones as well. The fifth had one very important distinction—each door here had a small embossed sign that read: Confinement. They kept prisoners here. None of these doors had windows.
After several disorienting turns, Rachel and I reached the final door. There were three guards on each side of it. Security was tight here. The door whirred as it opened, and we stepped into an airlock. The first door closed behind us, and then the door in front of us opened.
Air. Beautiful, fresh, clear air rushed over me. I breathed deep, sucking in every last drop, feeling it trickle down my throat. For the first time in days, I was outside.
“Welcome to the arena.” Rachel stepped over the threshold, beckoning me to follow.
The place was a dump. Literally. Fallen trees and logs were interspersed among burned-out cars and piles of rotting garbage. The clear air I’d experienced so briefly was gone, replaced by the thick odour of trash.
The arena was enormous, almost as big as the airfield outside of Cawley. It was so big I had trouble believing no one from the outside had found it yet. Although, if they had stumbled upon it, it wouldn’t have looked suspicious. It just looked gross.
Around the edge of the dump was a rim of huge rocks, placed to mark the boundaries of the arena. I knew we were deep in the national park, and trees towered beyond the rock line. Twilight had sapped the world of colour, and it was hard to see much farther than the rocks.
Three trainers arrived behind us. They wore modified versions of the masks worn in the adoption ceremony. These were slimmer fitting but curved out at the sides, partially obstructing their peripheral vision. They looked a bit like horse blinders. Rachel said this was normal attire for group attacks, as it reduced the chance of accidental interference from others on the same side. I didn’t need one today, because I was on my own. Their limited field of view would be my one advantage.
I took my first steps into the arena—and sunk up to my ankles. The whole place was mud. Frustrated, I sighed. This was not going to be the greatest fun.
We trudged into the centre, around rocks and trees and the skeletons of cars. A large pile to my left was made of food scraps.
The trainers took up positions around the outside of the arena. I couldn’t see two of them as my view was obstructed by logs and garbage. We reached a burned-out school bus in the centre of the arena, a yellow one that looked really old. The side of the bus was blackened, but I could make out letters spelling hool drizzling down the charred panels like chocolate sauce.
Rachel motioned for me to step inside. The bus creaked as I climbed the stairs. The molten plastic and fusty chair foam smelled so bad I could practically see the fumes. I knocked one of the chairs, and a plume of dust blew into my eyes, scratching them. Holding them shut for a moment, I could at least hear Rachel explain the plan.
“The first two minutes won’t be too bad, so let’s work on strategy. Outnumbered like this, your best bet is evasion and stealth. Your flaring isn’t really up to scratch, so don’t try anything like that this time around. Juniors like you survive best by hiding, not fighting.”
I blinked, and my eyes cleared. Rachel prodded my back, and I obediently moved towards the end of the bus.
“The enemy normally operates in small, mobile parties. They’re designed to surprise and overwhelm you. So if you find yourself in a scenario like that, get to cover quickly. They aren’t great at long, drawn-out stand-offs. You want to see them without being seen—the interference you create will wear them down a lot faster. Of course, the interference will also tell them you’re within eyeshot, and they can narrow down where you are. So it’s a trade-off.”
The seats had melted into their frames, and busted seat springs poked through my jeans as I tried to sit. Standing was definitely the better option. At least we had a decent view of the arena through the broken windows.
“They’re going to know we’re in here.” I rubbed my stabbed behind.
“Of course. They’ve run this training countless times, but it’s still the best place to defend.” A glow drew my attention. One of the trainers was warming up, starting flares in a circle above her head. When my eyes fixed on her, they disappeared. “See? By observing, you’ve interrupted their pattern. But remember: some of us can flare despite interference.”
“All this fire out here in the middle of the bush … That’s pretty dangerous, isn’t it? Especially in this weather?”
“There’s a river just beyond the rock fence that acts as a fire break,” Rachel explained. “Plus, we’ve always got a crew on standby to deal with outbreaks. The last thing we want is someone to head up here investigating a bushfire. We’ve got it covered.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it lightly. “Ready to go?”
I nodded, and Rachel waved to someone off in the darkness. A siren blew, and the trainers entered the arena.
“Okay, time’s ticking. This is where things get fun.” Rachel pointed out a number of big boulders and logs that lay around the edge of our clearing. “We can’t actually move objects, we can’t lift stuff in the air and throw it like in the movies, but we can modify them.”
She pointed out a log nearby, and I tuned in. It was a familiar sound now; many of the objects I trained on were made of wood.
“Remember what happened on our first training day, when you murdered that poor innocent mug?” Rachel asked.
I nodded, smiling even though my hands refused to stop shaking.
“Try it again, but this time don’t let the resonance hit so high. Tune out before the whole thing breaks apart.”
I tried to concentrate on that feeling, on shifting the resonance. The sound changed, as with the mug. It rose higher and higher, like a jet engine warming up.
There was a crack, and the log blew apart in a cloud of fog and sawdust.
“Sorry,” I said.
“That’s okay. Try it again with another. But now that you know the shatter point, stop just before you get there.”
I chose a gnarled old tree stump that was at least an arm’s-length across. The trainers had been heading at me for a while, and the stress made it harder to focus. I tried twice to tune before finally locking in. This stump sounded like the last one, and the resonance rose just the same. I stopped short of the highest note, and flames arced out of the stump. In a second, the whole thing was on fire. I grinned. Cool. If I lit up enough of the surrounding area, I could reduce the approaches the trainers could take. I set another log on fire, to Rachel’s approval.
“You’re a natural strategist. Nice work.” A flare burst in the air above my head. I swore. Rachel placed her hand on my shoulder. “At least one trainer is here, faster than I thought. But they can’t see you yet. That was meant to drive you out. Stay down and try to spot them. The interference should give us an advantage, too.”
I raised my head to peek out a shattered window. The glass was hard to see through, as it was spiderwebbed with cracks, but a few small pieces were missing, creating a perfect peephole. I could see without being seen.
A figure glowed in the fireli
ght. The mask and hood creeped me out, especially because they were lit by the flickering flames. He was either scanning the area or looking straight at me.
“Got him.” I ducked back down and crouched with my back to the bus wall. “Now what?”
“Here’s where things get interesting. You’re probably thinking you can just set someone on fire, but you won’t be able to directly manipulate a living body. Too many different tissues and cells. It’s impossible to tune in to a person, even without interference. Plus, this is only simulated, so we’d prefer you didn’t melt our trainers.”
I laughed, but it quickly drained away. Perhaps that had happened before.
“You want to use the environment to your advantage. If you can shatter the rocks behind them, you can distract them or potentially knock them out with flying debris.”
“I don’t want to hurt them. They’re not really my enemy.”
“These guys are sent out of the arena bleeding all the time. They’re almost disappointed when they leave without a new scar. They’ll be fine.”
There was a big boulder right behind the approaching trainer. I pointed it out to Rachel.
“Perfect. He won’t see it, so the interference will be low.” She placed her hand on my shoulder. “This one is harder. You can’t set rocks on fire. You need to raise its resonance and lower it suddenly. The change will break the pieces apart without shredding them. With any luck, bits will go flying everywhere.”
I’d tried this the other day in the training room with a small stone figurine. A boulder was a bigger challenge. I tuned in. Adrenaline, interference, and pressure made it harder to focus, and static shimmered in and out of my head. Still, I managed to raise the resonance and then drop it fast. The boulder blew apart, and shards of stone shot across the arena. The trainer ducked as a large chunk flew over his head.
He took a moment to recover, but when he did, he started running towards the bus. He tried to flare while he ran, but I kept him in view and the interference left him blocked.
The Fire Unseen Page 12
