Talented

by Sophie Davis

  Kansas was one of the few border-states that had yet to come under Martial Law. One of our Crypto teams had learned of a large gathering of supporters taking place in Topeka and we were going to apprehend the leaders before the meeting could take place. If we were able to take the organizers into custody and prevent the rally, we could, hopefully, prevent a reoccurrence of Mobile, five years earlier.

  In Mobile, almost a hundred citizens died when Toxic had tried to break-up a similar gathering. Since the incident in Mobile, Hunting teams were frequently dispatched to arrest the leaders, in advance. Toxic found that the rebel factions frequently disbanded in the absence of leadership.

  Honestly, I wasn’t really gung-ho on the whole idea of preventing free speech and all that. (In The United States v. Brighton the Supreme Court had ruled that Talents were a protected class of individual, and therefore the First Amendment didn’t protect salacious speech). Most days, I wasn’t even sure that I was completely on-board with the Mandatory Testing Act. I mean, forcing children to be tested seemed a little extreme. Imprisoning violators, parents who refused to submit their offspring, definitely seemed harsh. Despite that, going to the McDonough School had proved beneficial for me. Prior to meeting other Talented kids, I’d really believed there was something shameful about my abilities. My parents, bless them, had discouraged me from exploring my powers. They’d made it clear that I should hide them. Now, I understood that they were probably just scared that untalented people would treat me like a freak, and they didn’t want me subjected to taunting and teasing. That same sentiment was likely what drove parents here to risk jail time by violating the Act. I’ve always wondered if my parents would’ve submitted me for testing if I’d been born here. I believe that they would. My father had been friends with Mac, so he would’ve known that I’d be taken care of.

  What I was sure of, without a shadow of a doubt, was that anyone who supported Ian Crane was inherently bad. Any man who ordered the deaths of innocent people was evil. Anybody who supported such an agenda was, by association, evil.

  Surprisingly, I wasn’t the only member of our team that didn’t completely back the Mandatory Testing Act; Erik worked hard to keep his thoughts about it to himself, but sometimes they leaked out. I never pressed the issue. Speaking openly against the Act was only a couple of steps removed from treason. Normal citizens were given a little more leeway, not much, obviously, but a Toxic Operative speaking against the Act would lead to traitorous accusations. I’d heard of too-vocal Agency Operatives being charged with spying for the Coalition. The thought of Erik standing trial for spying shook me to my very core.

  Like our previous missions this one went off without a hitch. The misguided leaders of the Coalition rally were a husband and wife. We’d purposely raided their home in the middle of the night, in hoping to prevent a speckle. However, the stealth proved unnecessary, as they came without protest. I’d been shocked when we arrived at their modest, yet well-maintained home. It was in one of those cookie-cutter neighborhoods, where even the hover cars in the driveways matched. I wondered how many of their neighbors would be surprised to learn that they’d been living amongst rebel supporters. I wondered how many of the neighbors were rebel-supporters.

  Erik remained steel-faced through the short endeavor, yet I could tell that he wasn’t comfortable. He performed every detail of the mission with the same precision and thoroughness that he did everything, but his mood was heavy, very un-Erik-like. I tried not to dwell on it too much.

  After taking the offending duo into custody, we escorted them to one of Toxic’s interrogation facilities, just outside of D.C.’s overcrowded beltway. My first real twinges of unease came when we handed our captives over to the guards at the base. Psychic interrogation was not fun, for anybody involved. The prisoner’s minds would be poked, prodded, and searched, every memory examined, every detail of their lives exposed to determine exactly how far their involvement with the Coalition went.

  I shuddered at the thought. Secretly, I hoped that their interrogator wasn’t very strong. True, they were in league with the man who’d ordered my parents’ deaths, but they might really just be people against mandatory testing, not in support of Crane’s more radical agendas. Not everyone who underwent intense mental interrogation, made it out unscathed; sometimes the interrogator went too deep or broke the person’s will. I really hoped that the interrogator wasn’t that strong. I assured myself that it was unlikely they would be. According to Mac, I was the only Mind Manipulator currently with Toxic who was that strong.

  After depositing the violators, we headed back to Elite Headquarters. We were only there long enough to research our next Hunt before setting out again. This quickly became a trend, but I didn’t mind; the more time that I spent away from Headquarters, the less chance that I would run into Donavon.

  Once there, I headed straight for my new room. I’d expected it to look like Penny’s, which it did, except instead of white the room was decorated in shades of purple. The carpet was the same plush carpeting that covered Penny’s floors, but it was a deep royal purple color. The walls were bare but had been painted lavender with white trim. My new bed was covered in a violet and white floral patterned bedspread with matching purple pillows. The plastic chair and table set was somewhere in between the deep purple of the carpet and the lavender on the walls. My meager clothing hung pathetically in the humongous closet, making me think that I might actually take Penny up on her offer to help me buy some new clothes, even though I would likely never wear them. I had a ton of clothes, but I’d left them at Mac’s house; there wasn’t really a need for my more extravagant outfits here.

  My bathroom had a white tiled floor and white ceramic sink, toilet and soaking tub, just like Penny’s. But instead of white walls, my bathroom was lined with purple glass tiles, alternating frosted and clear, from floor to ceiling.

  I fell in love with my room the moment that I walked in, but I didn’t have much time to enjoy its luxuries before I was back at training and gearing up for my next Hunt.

  Thankfully, the hours in between waking and sleeping were packed full and I rarely had time to think about anything except the task at hand. I‘d begged Erik to convince his Medic friend, Zach, to sneak me pills that induced a dreamless sleep. He caved, so it was only twice a day that thoughts of Donavon invaded my mind, threatening to pull me back in to the darkness and depression that I was still clawing my way out of.

  Our missions took us all over Coalition and Agency territory. One day we were in a small town without running water, in a Coalition state, where they tended to be poor since they no longer received any kind of government funding, the next in a huge city with techie stores on every corner. Even though I was spending all of my time with Erik and Henri I felt more alone than ever. All of the previous confusion over my feelings for Erik seemed trivial. I no longer felt anything. My internal numbness wasn’t reserved specifically for Erik; I felt indifferent, at best, towards everything except Donavon. I hated, Donavon. Nothing excited me anymore, and nothing shocked me anymore, but nothing hurt me anymore either.

  During our actual Hunts, I let my teammates’ emotions become my own. I fed on the thrill and excitement that coursed through them, using it to propel my own senses in to overdrive. The surge of adrenaline that accompanied the moment before we entered a building, the heart stopping pandemonium associated with every fight, the ecstasy of victory when we succeeded, and filled the void left by Donavon’s absence. I soon became addicted to the Hunt.

  On the rare occasion that we were at Headquarters long enough to do anything besides get ready for the next mission, I spent my time with Penny. Mac arranged for us to be allowed to go into the city on our days off, as long as we were back before dark. Unfortunately he balked at authorizing hover lessons for either of us, so we had to rely on the good graces of Henri and Erik, but that wasn’t usually a problem.

  Every time we went into the city Penny urged me to buy decorations for my room, but I never fel
t like it. I spent so little time there that it seemed silly to hang pictures only the cleaning staff would see. I did let her talk me into buying clothes and shoes to fill my closet. That also seemed silly, but it made Penny happy, and seeing Penny happy made me feel . . . something.

  The best thing about spending time with Penny was not being in her head. It was nice to sit with her and pretend that I was normal. I had no choice with Erik and Henri since I had to connect with their minds for our missions, and, no matter how hard they both tried to keep it from me, thoughts of Donavon and the incident in his cabin came to the forefront while we were practicing. With Penny, I never had to know what she was thinking. When I asked her a question, I waited for her response. I took her answers at face-value, because I didn’t have a reason to suspect otherwise.

  I hadn’t actually seen Donavon since our break-up. Not living in the Hunters’ Village reduced the risk of me running in to him by accident. I was careful to avoid the cafes that I knew he frequented, and choosing to order my meals from the kitchen downstairs instead. When I went into the city, I didn’t have to worry about running into him at the kind of places Penny liked to shop. My practice gym was far enough away from his that, if I took certain pathways, I knew I was unlikely to see him. Also, I had a feeling that Mac and Captain Alvarez were arranging our missions to ensure that one of us was almost always away from Headquarters, and that suited me just fine.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Before long, our missions became more dangerous and more complex. I knew that this was unusual for a team as young as ours, but Mac insisted that our track record spoke for itself. We received our first Kill Mission just before I was due to formally graduate, and I had conflicting emotions about the assignment. I knew that Kill Missions came with the job, but they were few and far between. They were even less common when one of the teammates was still a Pledge. It wasn’t like we escaped every mission without taking some casualties. Our very first mission had been proof of that. But a Hunt where the hunted was another human life, the knowledge that for us to succeed, somebody had to die? I couldn’t stomach the thought.

  The week before we were scheduled to leave was more hectic and intense than usual. Henri programmed the simulator in our training arena for Kill Scenarios, setting the rubric for situations similar to the one we’d likely face on our mission. The holographic images were incredibly life-like, and when one landed a blow, a jolt of electricity ran through my body. Our trainings were more somber, more serious than usual. The collective mood of our team weighed heavily on me since I absorbed the feelings of both boys.

  Henri and Erik had been on several Kill Missions in their time with the Hunters, and neither was eager to repeat the process. Henri tried to treat the assignment like any other, but he couldn’t keep the darkness from his mind. Erik, usually so good at pulling off a nonchalant, carefree attitude, tried to keep the sickness that he felt tucked away the in corners of his mind, but sometimes it slipped out.

  For my part, I was secretly glad to have something all-consuming take over my thoughts. The more that I thought about what we were about to do, the less that I thought about Donavon and anything that kept my mind off of Donavon was a good thing.

  Henri painstakingly walked me through every detail of the laboratory where we would carry out our mission. He explained that the target worked late, alone in his lab, and we should be able to get in, complete the mission, and get out and be on our way before anybody discovered his body. Henri had a complete bio on the target, but I couldn’t bring myself to read it. I told myself that he was a threat to Toxic, and most likely a Crane supporter. He must be a very bad man. That was all that I needed to know.

  Henri spent the night before we left in D.C. with Frederick. His mind had been distracted all day with thoughts of mortality and the prospect of never seeing Frederick again. I kept seeing flashes of past Kill Missions, some that had gone right and some that hadn’t. I realized for the first time how close Henri had come to being captured on more than one occasion. Of course, I had heard of horribly botched missions and near misses, but feeling Henri’s fear, as if it was my own, unnerved me. I finally understood the enormity of the situation. Any initial relief over the distraction quickly dissipated.

  I wasn’t the only one feeling it; Erik also felt Henri’s past experiences mingled with his own. He radiated desire to feel alive, and connected with a person outside of Toxic, a person who had no idea what he did or who he was. When he got ready to leave for the city that night, I wanted to beg him to stay with me, but I knew I had no right. It would be selfish and unfair of me to deny him the opportunity to find what he was so desperately craving, particularly when I knew that Henri’s thoughts and feelings were not the only ones that he was absorbing.

  I’d noticed in practices when, in my weaker moments, my fear and trepidation over the task reached a boiling point and spilled over, that Erik’s mood would plummet even further. I tried to keep my thoughts to myself. I knew firsthand that shouldering the burden of others emotions, especially when compounded by your own, was exhausting, but sometimes my feelings were just too intense to contain and they would burst free into the only outlet that I had –Erik.

  That night, I didn’t want to be alone. No matter how many times I told myself that what we were doing was necessary, I couldn’t shake the leaden feeling that was making my insides heavy. This man probably had a family or friends, somebody that would miss him. What was his crime, anyway? What could he have done that was so horrible that he deserved to die?

  After tossing and turning for half the night, I got up, having decided to knock on Penny’s door. I only made it as far as my own before I heard a soft knock. I paused, not trusting my ears, and waited to see if the knock came a second time. It did. I opened my mind – Erik. I slowly opened the door with my powers. He was leaning against the door frame, his dark hair hanging in his bloodshot eyes, now looking more blue than green, with his shirt half un-tucked from his jeans. I drank in his disheveled appearance and thought that he had never looked better.

  “You’re awake,” he slurred, his eyes lighting up.

  “You’re drunk,” I replied, matter-of-factly.

  He grinned, “Can I come in?”

  I swept my arm in a welcoming gesture and Erik stumbled in, headed straight for my bed. He flopped down on the comforter, leaving his feet dangling off of the side. I stood uncomfortably in the middle of the room. Since moving to the apartments, we’d had little social interaction. I saw him every day, and even spent most of my waking-hours with him, but we hadn’t been alone, just the two of us, since everything had happened with Donavon.

  “It’s very purple in here,” he observed.

  “It’s my favorite color,” I replied lamely.

  “Makes sense.” I failed to see how any of this situation made sense.

  “Erik, what are you doing here?” I asked bluntly.

  He raised himself up on one elbow and tried to tuck the too-long strands of his hair behind his ear, but didn’t respond. I nervously chewed the inside of my lower lip and willed him to say something, anything.

  “Don’t want to be alone,” he finally said, in a low voice.

  “You could’ve stayed in the city if you didn’t want to be alone,” I tried to keep my tone light.

  “True,” Erik conceded, “but I didn’t want to pretend that I was having a good time and that tomorrow was just like every other day.” All of his normal bravado was gone. His eyes were unguarded, making him look uncharacteristically vulnerable.

  I nodded, “Okay.”

  “If you’d rather I leave . . .” he started to get up.

  “No, no, don’t leave,” I said too quickly, making a move towards my bed.

  “I don’t want to be alone either,” I added quietly.

  “I know,” he answered.

  I really didn’t want for him to leave. Any feelings that I may have had for Erik in the past aside, I really wanted to be near somebody, anybody.


  I moved slowly towards my bed and sat on the edge, careful not to touch Erik. I could feel my heart beating in my throat, and hoped that Erik was too drunk to notice. He was still propped up on his elbow, and he reached out with his free hand and took mine.

  “Thanks, Tal,” he whispered. I smiled nervously, not meeting his eyes. His vulnerability stirred something inside of me. I was seized by the desire to comfort him, but I refrained.

  He released my hand and reached behind him, grabbing two of my pillows and throwing them to the opposite end of the bed. He kicked off his shoes and flipped his body around, so that his head lay at the end of the bed where my feet usually went. I crawled up to my end of the bed and curled up so that my toes wouldn’t be too close to his face, even though his much-larger feet were resting on a pillow near my head.

  I closed my eyes and tried to relax. On the one hand, having Erik there satisfied my need to be close to somebody, easing my tension. On the other hand, having Erik there elicited feelings that I thought no longer existed, creating more anxiety.

  Something tickled the sole of my foot, and I instinctively kicked out. Thankfully Erik’s drunken reflexes were still much faster than most normal people’s sober ones, and he grabbed my foot before it made contact with his more sensitive areas.

  “Tal, it’s your bed, stretch out,” he mumbled. “Besides you’re only half a person, so you barely take up any room,” he laughed at his own not-funny joke.

  I gave another small kick, but he still had a hold of my foot so it didn’t really achieve anything. I stretched my legs and, even though my bed was plenty big enough for both of us, without the need to touch, Erik held on. Erik cuddling with my feet had an oddly comforting quality, and I fell asleep almost instantly.