by Sophie Davis
Yocum nodded and repeated my profanity, adding, “My thoughts precisely.”
“How old was she?” I asked, a thought occurring to me.
“Sounds like she was somewhere between six and eight, though that’s purely based on visuals,” Yocum answered.
“Is it possible the girl was Created?” I asked. As far as I knew, I was the only natural Talent capable of causing such destruction with my mind. At least, the only one UNITED knew about. “That’s seems far too young to be part of Mac’s experiments, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“We won’t know that until they test her remains. No group has claimed credit yet, which is also really weird. Those hate groups love to boast about their exploits, and injuring Agent Kelley would’ve been considered quite the success,” Yocum pointed out.
“I hope they still consider it a success when I hunt them down,” I shot back.
“Unless someone takes credit, we might never know who was behind it, much less the reason for the attack.”
Realizing he was right, I let loose another string of obscenities. How were we supposed to fight back against a group that we knew nothing about?
My thoughts returned to the possibility of another Talent with mental abilities as strong as mine, natural or manmade. Without shrapnel to prove otherwise, the only explanation was that the girl definitely used herself as a human bomb. But it would have taken considerable power to do so, and an impressive amount of control. Only a strong, trained manipulator could pull that off, and there just weren’t that many of us out there.
Had Mac really infected someone so young with the creation drug, boosting her natural mental manipulation abilities? Or…
I didn’t even want to consider the alternative.
Did Mac inject her with my talent signature?
“You said there’s footage?” I asked suddenly. My frantic question startled Yocum, who was still reading transmissions on his comm. Though I had absolutely zero desire to watch someone hurt Erik, I needed to see the assailant. Admittedly, the chances of me recognizing her were slim, even if she’d been part of TOXIC. Still, I had to know. Instead of answering, Yocum eyed me warily.
“Is the footage on your communicator?” I demanded.
“Yeah,” he reluctantly replied. “I’m guessing you want to see it?”
“Please?” I asked, pasting on a giant grin that probably looked more maniacal than inviting.
Yocum held up his communicator and mimed tossing it. “Only because you asked so nicely.”
Cupping my hands, I easily caught the gentle throw.
“You’re the best,” I said, really meaning it. Even as I spoke, I was already scrolling through the incoming messages, searching for a link to the footage. When I found a confidential transmission with a video attachment, my finger hovered over the display screen. Did I truly want to see this?
Yes, I decided, pressing the play button.
My breath caught when a close-up of Erik’s face filled the small screen. For a long moment, I just stared at his handsome features, longing to run my fingers through his silky black hair and feel those beautiful lips on mine. I missed him so much it hurt.
Tomorrow, I reminded myself. You’ll see him tomorrow.
Tomorrow seemed very far away.
When the camera panned out, I saw a wide-angle view of a pathway cut through the crowded plaza, roped off on either side. Erik and Penny, surrounded by UNITED bodyguards, were making their way down the aisle. Agent Miles DeSanto, who I recognized from my fateful mission in London, kept whispering in Erik’s ear. The throngs were lined up against the rope on both sides, some reaching out towards my boyfriend, some holding signs, and many calling his name.
Being locked up on Vault, I hadn’t seen Erik in action in his new role as UNITED’s poster boy. My heart filled with pride at the sight. He came across as utterly in control, and yet still accessible. Angry protestors aside, the crowd loved him. Though I could tell Erik’s smile wasn’t whole-hearted, and he looked tired, he was playing the diplomatic role to perfection.
Without warning, he beamed genuinely as a curly-headed child ducked beneath the boundary rope. Erik stopped walking and engaged in a brief discussion with the other agents. Then, my boyfriend started towards the little girl.
My heart pounded as I studied her face intently. The delicate features were unfamiliar, drawing a sigh of relief even as I knew what was about to happen. Had I recognized her from TOXIC or the McDonough School, my fears about it being my talent signature would’ve consumed me. The thought of my abilities being transferred to a little girl, giving her the power she needed to become a suicidal murderess, made me sick.
I refocused on the video, rewinding and zooming in on the little girl.
Something about her eyes raised the hairs on the back of my neck. They were dead—completely devoid of any emotion and without a trace of the thoughts happening behind them. I’d seen that same blank stare on many of my fellow inmates. The girl was drugged, most likely with a chemical strong enough to eviscerate her thoughts and emotional connections to the world around her.
No way was this little girl working alone, I thought, concentrating on the details of the attack to distract myself from the possibility it was my powers that had hurt Erik.
Little girl, I repeated to myself mournfully. And yet, though the face staring up at me from the screen did appear young, I couldn’t help but feel as though I was looking at a mirage. There was something off about the child, besides the vacant expression that made me question how lucid the thoughts were beneath her mop of curls.
On screen, Erik knelt before the child. Every cell in my body wanted to scream at him to move away. Didn’t Erik see that the girl wasn’t right? Couldn’t he feel the weirdness radiating off of her? Just seeing her on a screen gave me chills, and Erik was all but holding her hand.
From somewhere off-screen, Penny suddenly lunged forward, reaching for Erik as though to pull him back.
She was too late.
Even though I knew what was coming, I had to clench my jaw to keep from shrieking when the dead-eyed child exploded.
The footage continued to roll, capturing the aftermath of the attack. Unable to watch the carnage—a mix of blood and felled agents, with my Erik in the middle of it all—I stopped the playback and set the device down in my lap. For a long minute, I stared quietly at the wall of my cell, trying to make sense of the attack.
“You okay?” Yocum finally asked quietly. “I don’t even know Agent Kelley, and I had a hard time seeing that.”
I nodded. “I’ve seen worse. I’m fine.”
I was so not fine. After finding Erik at Tramblewood, TOXIC’s maximum-security prison, bloody and beaten to within an inch of his life, I’d never wanted to see him hurt again. I never wanted him to be hurt again at all. Erik’s stint in Tramblewood had been entirely my fault. Now I couldn’t help but wonder if this attack had been, too.
“What’s your take on it?” Yocum asked. “You think the kid used mental talents to cause the explosion?”
A part of me automatically began to say something asinine like, “Thought I lost the right to have an opinion when that cell door hit me on the way in.” But the words died on my lips. I was too shaken for sarcasm.
The attack wasn’t serious, but the implications were. Someone had deliberately placed that child in Erik’s path with the intention of killing both of them, in addition to countless bystanders. They must have overestimated the power of the explosion, which was the only reason Erik was still alive. That same person also had no interest in being recognized as the source of the attack by claiming credit, instead preserving his anonymity.
These were all very bad signs.
“Talia? You sure you’re okay?” Yocum’s brow furrowed into a frown. “I’m sorry, I knew it was a bad idea to let you watch that.”
“No, really, I’m fine,” I assured him. “Just thinking. Thank you for letting me watch the video, I really do appreciate i
t. And yeah, I’m pretty sure that girl was the bomb, which is probably why Victoria is sending a brain guy to check out Erik. If the child’s talents were strong enough to pull this off, then they were definitely strong enough to infiltrate Erik’s mind.” I shook my head ruefully. “Not that a doctor will know what to look for. Run of the mill brain damage isn’t the issue. I should be there.”
“Come on, Talia. What can you do that a skilled specialist can’t?”
“A lot. Do you know how much power, how much control this type of thing takes? Few manipulators possess enough of either,” I replied, voicing my earlier thoughts.
“But you do,” Yocum said.
It wasn’t a question. Since Yocum had read my personnel file, he already knew I did; it undoubtedly included some of the more outrageous displays of my abilities.
“I do,” I agreed. “But more importantly, I know Erik. I know his mind. I would be able to tell if that girl screwed with it. I should be with him. I should have been there with him from the start, not in here.”
Anger blazed through me, even as guilt turned my stomach to lead. I wanted to hate Victoria and the rest of her council cronies for locking me away when my place was by Erik’s side. Yet, the person I was truly upset with was myself. It was my own fault that I wasn’t there when Erik needed me.
Maybe I could have prevented the attack. Maybe not. I’d never know. Either way, I was useless to Erik as long as I remained on Vault. I was useless to UNITED, too.
Suddenly, I had a strong desire to revisit the folder Victoria had left for me. I needed to prove my worth. Once I regained value in UNITED’s eyes, I would be allowed to return to Erik. And if that was what it took, I would become a model employee. I would make the council wonder how they’d ever survived without me.
“There is nothing you could have done,” Yocum said firmly, interrupting my mental wanderings. “This attack is no great surprise to anyone. Pushing the vote back made people extra anxious, especially the fanatics. The council thought it some great win to have this extra time, thought sending your boy out would assure victory.” Yocum shook his head. “I can’t say it’s the decision I would’ve made. In my opinion, for what it’s worth, they shou—”
“No one asked for your opinion,” a clipped voice declared, cutting him off.
Victoria’s crisp rebuke drained every ounce of color from Yocum’s face. He flew up out of his chair, standing at attention as the councilwoman entered my cell.
“Forgive me, ma’am,” Yocum said tightly.
The door closed behind Victoria, just as soundlessly as it had opened.
“As it happens, with the advantage of hindsight, I do not entirely disagree with you,” she replied, waving off Yocum’s apology. Looking wearier than I’d ever seen her, Victoria strode across my cell and sat beside me on the bed before continuing.
“Agent Kelley has done a brilliant job of swaying general public opinion, there is no doubting that. However, new anti-Talent organizations pop up every day, and it seems they are unyielding in their beliefs about the Talented and Created. Threats to Erik’s life have increased tenfold in the last week; many of those same groups are intent on silencing him before the vote. While this was not unexpected, it does make me wonder whether the council’s decision to use Erik as the face of our movement was not a tad hasty. We’d believed that implementing strict search protocols at the rallies would be sufficient, but it seems we were ignorant to all the potential risks Erik would face.”
“How is he?” I asked, nudging Yocum’s communicator beneath my leg. Victoria was lenient when it came to certain rules, but handing over a UNITED communicator was unlikely to be one of them. She seemed totally unsurprised by the fact Yocum told me about the attack, but there was no need to risk his job by telling her the extent of my knowledge.
“He was not seriously injured.” She held up a hand to halt my next question in its tracks. “I am sorry, Talia, that is all I know. Erik’s injuries are minor, relatively speaking. I have spoken with him, and he seems well. Until our specialized medical team evaluates him, I cannot tell you more.”
“Do you know who is responsible?” I demanded.
Being the head honcho at UNITED, Victoria was privy to all classified intel. If there was a list of suspects, she likely had it memorized.
Victoria scowled. “I do not. This is troubling, of course, because it means there is likely a new player in the game—one who wishes to remain under the radar.” Her frown deepened. “Personally, I believe only cowards hide behind a mask of anonymity.”
I didn’t contradict Victoria, though I didn’t agree with her. Not claiming responsibility meant the organization behind Erik’s assault was smart; bragging to the digital landscape was a surefire way to be caught. The method of attack, using a child suicide-bomber, meant they were also cold and calculating.
A highly dangerous combination.
“I assure you, we will find the culprit,” Victoria continued. “No rat can remain underground forever. It is only a matter of time before the mastermind behind this surfaces, even if I have to drag him from his hole myself.”
Victoria’s pronouncement left me speechless. More startling than her words were the emotions accompanying them. Regret, fear, and a little sorrow rolled off of her so intensely, I felt as though they were suffocating me.
“Will you let me know once the specialist has checked him out?” I asked, hating that I had to ask the favor of her. It was yet another reminder that I’d lost all control over my own life.
“I will let you know if they find any complications. Otherwise, he can tell you all about it himself,” Victoria replied. “As soon as Erik is cleared for travel, he will be flown directly to the islands. I do need to debrief him, so your reunion may be delayed slightly.”
“Will I still get to see him tomorrow?” I pressed.
Victoria’s smile was genuine. “You should know well enough by now that I keep all of my promises. Besides,” she waved her hand dismissively, “advocating for the visit was no picnic. After all of that, I would not have my efforts be for naught.”
“Thank you, Victoria,” I replied simply. Though Erik’s visit was purportedly for his benefit, Victoria had really been watching out for me lately. Three months ago, I would have laughed at the thought of UNITED’s head councilwoman helping me out in any way. Now, I couldn’t begin to express the depth of my appreciation for everything she’d done for me.
Nodding to the file folder open beside me on the bed, Victoria changed topics. “I see you have been looking over the information I left. What can you tell me?”
Though I wanted to talk about the attack in greater depth, Victoria’s demeanor suggested she was short on time. So, instead of discussing my theories and dissecting the inner workings of a would-be mass murderer’s mind, I pushed away the thoughts of Erik and switched gears.
“Honestly, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be looking for,” I replied. “I mean, it all seems pretty straightforward. Power outages happen. Livestock thefts can’t be uncommon. I guess I just don’t see what is so noteworthy about them.” I paused and, mentally cataloguing the events I’d read about, added, “The alien abductions are interesting, though.”
“No one was abducted by men from space,” the councilwoman interjected.
“How do you know? It’s possible. People have been claiming abduction for hundreds of years, has to be some truth in it,” I reasoned.
“I know because there have been no unauthorized aircrafts within a hundred mile radius of the Duquesne farm in the months before or after the alleged abductions.”
“Cloaking capabilities,” I volleyed. “We have them, so extraterrestrials probably do, too.”
Yocum snorted, then feigned a coughing fit when Victoria shot him a glare that would’ve frozen the Dead Sea.
“Talia,” she warned, pinching the bridge of her nose as if she might be able to squeeze patience from her nostrils. “Please be serious.”
I might have pr
essed the issue, purely for my entertainment, but I knew Victoria was already having a hell of a day.
“Fine,” I relented, drawing out the syllable for good measure. “Probably not aliens. Seriously, though, if you tell me what I’m supposed to be looking for, I might have more luck with this. Why are these things even on your radar?”
“We closely monitor all of the areas within a hundred miles of the UNITED headquarters in Switzerland,” Victoria explained. “Particularly now, with the vote so close and many Created still on the loose. Given the fact that the electric company has no explanation for the power outages, we are not ruling out a rogue electrical manipulator.”
“But it doesn’t explain the cattle,” I concluded.
“Precisely. Do you see any connection between the events listed in the reports?” Victoria adjusted on my thin mattress so she was facing me directly, gesturing to the papers scattered between us.
“Um, maybe the thieves cut the power so no one could see them stealing the cows?” I ventured.
“It’s possible,” she replied, seeming doubtful.
“But not probable,” I finished for her, sighing. “That would likely have been unnecessary, given that the cows were out in a field, already in the dark.”
“I know this is an odd set of circumstances,” Victoria said, sensing my frustration. “But I do believe the events are all related. I am just not sure how they are related. I was hoping you might find the connection.”
“I see,” I stalled. This was my chance to prove my worth to UNITED, but I was coming up empty-handed. “Nothing comes to mind, but I’ll go through the articles and reports again. Do you think you could get me more information? Like maybe some personal blogs from people living in that region? Or copies of the police interviews with Franz and the other farmers involved? For that matter, all the police reports from this town over the last several months would be useful. It’s possible there are other related incidents that no one has connected with the power outages and thefts yet. If I have more dots to connect, the pattern will come quicker.”
