Relics and Runes Anthology

by Heather Marie Adkins

  The answer was obvious.

  She jettisoned herself over the balcony, dropping seven stories. When she landed, her once nude body was covered in custom dark blue leather. A corset twisted around her bosom and waist, lacing itself up. Black leggings and dark blue boots followed and as she sped off in the direction of the call, a dark mask took shape, curving and contorting around her brown eyes. Black, wavy hair billowed in the wind against tanned skin as she ran.

  She arrived soon after and was greeted by a Neanderthal who’d sidled up to her from behind.

  “Hey sweetie,” the man said, slapping her bottom. He had just moseyed out of a bar, spied her in her get up, and thought he’d get lucky. He grabbed her forcefully and pulled her close to him. Amber grinned, causing him to squirm in response to her body pressing against him.

  “You like that, don’t you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I don’t.”

  His smile relaxed, but he wasn’t quick enough to avoid the thrust to his Adam’s apple. He took off, groping his throat and what was left of his dignity, never looking back as he peeled out of there in a rusty pickup truck.

  She smirked to herself, admiring the control she exercised. Well, as much control as she could muster given the circumstances. But, the moment didn’t last much longer. The boy cried out again, reminding her why she was out there in the first place.

  “Please, leave me alone. I don’t have any money,” the scrawny boy implored. He was cornered by some bullies in varsity jackets. Two of them held down the boy’s arms, while the other rifled through his pockets and found some money in them.

  “Twenty bucks. You’re a liar, Henry. I could have made this quick, but now I have to teach you a lesson.” The jock drew back his fist, but never landed a punch. Amber picked him up by the back of his collar and flung him against the brick wall. The others scattered, after seeing how she handled their buddy.

  “Are you okay?” Amber asked the boy.

  “Yes, thank you so much. How did you…who are you?”

  “Um, that’s not important but if you’re okay, I guess I’ll be on my way.”

  “Wait.” He scrambled to his feet. “You never told me your name.” She disappeared.

  What a rush! Every day Amber was becoming stronger, but with each new daunting power it became harder to contain herself. But she’d learned something: she could control it, if she really concentrated, and she’d just proven that by helping the boy. No matter how scared she may be of what was happening to her, she could never stand by while someone got hurt. There had to be a way to rid herself of this maelstrom of powers. Until then, she’d have to buck up and make do.

  7

  May 13, 2008

  A month had passed since Amber discovered her supernatural abilities, not having much luck with her own hypotheses; she decided to go to her dad to get his take on it. The drive home was an interesting one, seeing it through adult eyes. She hadn’t been home since she’d left for her freshman year of college.

  Driving by the center of Carrington, she took in the shops like the little coffee shop that her mom used to go to for coffee. Amber remembered being hoisted up on her mother’s hip while she balanced Amber in one arm and the latte in the other hand. Amber felt her eyes misting at the thought. Although her memories of her mom were vague, she knew that her mom loved her.

  She gave the car a little more gas to hasten the drive to her dad’s house. Within fifteen minutes, she pulled into her dad’s driveway. Then made her way to the front door and rang the doorbell since she’d misplaced her key.

  “Amber? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” her dad asked as he opened the door. They shared a long embrace and he kissed her on the forehead.

  “I know that I should have called, but I really needed to talk to you, Dad.”

  She came into the doorway and followed him to the kitchen. He asked her if she wanted anything to drink and she asked for a club soda. He opened the cupboard to take a tall glass and set it on the table. He put ice in it from the dispenser and poured the club soda into the glass. Amber thanked him as he handed it to her.

  “Dad, I don’t know how to say this but I need to know.”

  On the whole ride over, she worried about his reaction. Not knowing what to expect, a dozen scenarios fluttered around in her head. Would he be scared or surprised? Would he be disgusted and shun her? Yes, he was her father, but this was different. People generally flee in the opposite direction when you move objects with only the force of your mind. Even if bigotry wasn’t in their nature, their reactions were the same. Petrified.

  Then she heard a dauntless voice, Rip it. It wasn’t her own voice; it was something Kelly used to say all the time. Always the fearless one, and it was her way of saying don’t think about it, just rip the bandage off.

  She made a gesture with her hand and the ice cubes and club soda began to rise out of the cup. Her dad’s eyes widened and he knocked down the suspended pot rack above his head. The pots and pans clattered to the ground, along with jars of sugar and spices. He clambered over the mess, still trying to get to the door. Always the same reaction.

  “Dad, it’s okay. I would never ever hurt you. I need help figuring this whole thing out.”

  “I-I-I wasn’t…how did you? Did you see what you just did?” At least he was talking to her. He no longer had his eyes on the exits. Progress.

  “Dad, please, I need you to focus. Did anything weird happen to me when I was a kid? I’m not adopted, am I?” She suddenly felt sick at the thought of not being biologically connected to the man who raised her.

  “No, we’re blood. You’re my baby girl. I can’t remember anything odd and I would certainly remember you levitating or moving something with your mind.” He said almost indignantly.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I know that it seems like I’m throwing all of this on you, but I have to know if these abilities can hurt me,” Amber said, placing her hand over his.

  Michael’s eyes softened and the rise and fall of his chest slowed as if her touch had brought him back. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

  “Dad, I’m still me.”

  “I know, baby.” He let go of her and left the kitchen.

  Four minutes later, he returned with a broom and dustpan. “First, let’s sweep up the mess. Then, start from the beginning.” His eyes were clear and resolved.

  “Okay.”

  They’d ordered Lugine’s Pizza and Amber went over every detail. Michael brewed a pot of coffee and turned on the television out of rote. A beat later, he apologized, and got back up to turn it off.

  “Leave it. We could use the distraction, wouldn’t you say?”

  Anchorman Bob Reyes was reporting the latest news. “Well, it looks like there is a disturbance at the BankTrust of Carrington. I’m not sure if what I’m seeing is right, but there appears to be a golden-masked woman exiting the vault. This just in, the guard has released a statement that he was hit from behind and although he didn’t see the perpetrator’s face he was able to see that it was a woman wearing all gold. The police have yet to apprehend her. The public should consider her armed and dangerous.”

  Amber moved closer to the television screen. From her peripheral, she saw her dad shift his weight; he seemed uneasy. He stood there for a moment as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t utter the words. Then finally he blurted out what he was thinking.

  “Did you do that, Amber?”

  “No, I would never…I couldn’t do that, Dad!”

  “Amber, I raised you better than this!”

  “Daddy, that wasn’t me. I have been using my abilities to help people not hurt them.”

  His trepidation ebbed along with any doubt when Amber explained her side of things. He could hear it in her strained voice that she was scared; her face, pleading, and her voice fraught with uncertainty and angst. There was no way she had anything to do with the bank robbery.

  “I’m sorry,” Michael said, ashamed of even thinking she
’d done it.

  She explained how she had been struggling to keep up with the abilities and how she was starting to acquire them more rapidly. It was beginning to take a toll on her mind and she had been getting migraines a lot.

  Michael suggested taking a blood sample to see if they could find answers there. Since they were both in agreement, they went downstairs to the basement lab. He tried to pull a strand of hair from her head, but had not luck. So he used a cotton swab to get a saliva sample. Michael experienced the same problem trying to penetrate her skin with a needle. Amber pulled out a switchblade and cut her arm. “Quickly, Dad, before it closes up again.”

  When Michael removed the vile from her skin, the area healed itself immediately. He stared in astonishment for a moment and then corked the sample. He also took a blood sample from his arm and set about running the DNA testing. I won't have the results until later on tomorrow. He stopped, interrupted by Amber's yawn. “Let's call it a night. I can look at this in the morning.

  Amber wanted to keep going, but she was exhausted and she did unload quite a bit on him. The least she could do was let him sleep on it. The samples would still be there in the morning.

  Amber slept in the bedroom she grew up in and was pleasantly surprised that her father didn’t redecorate it. The room could have easily been repurposed, made into a gym or a man cave with slat gray walls, plain blinds, and a simple light fixture. Instead, the walls remained its familiar lavender, her feather boa hung lazily across her plum, suede recliner, and all of her CDs and collection of books were as she’d left them. She smiled to herself as she crawled underneath her comforter. It still smelled like fresh lilies so she could tell that he washed it recently. She really should visit him more often. She closed her eyes and tried to piece together what information she did know. This much was clear; her father had nothing to do with what was happening to her.

  She tried to retrace the events of her life to see if there was anything out of the ordinary. Amber thought about the weird dreams she started having a couple of months ago, but she couldn’t connect that to being exposed to anything or eating anything…strange. Kelly’s face flashed by in her mind’s eye. She remembered blacking out years ago when she and Kelly ate the flan with the delicious orange glaze that was so good it had to be demonic. It was only a dessert, but it was the only thing she’d eaten and she blacked out the following day. Her parents had thought she had a stomach bug, but Amber hadn’t thrown up or been feverish. She just slept for the entire day.

  Then she thought about Kelly’s weird knack for guessing. Kelly always brushed it off as luck, but it was strange how she’d make these obscure guesses, like, knowing when they were having a pop quiz or how she’d randomly hold up her arm to stop Amber and seconds later a group of boys would come barreling around the corner, roughhousing like a bunch of jerks.

  The real kicker was when Kelly could tell when Amber was close by without laying eyes on her. Kelly would be sitting in study hall and she would just suddenly have a feeling that Amber was in the area or outside her classroom. Amber would get a random text just as she was passing Kelly's classroom.

  Hey Amber! Where are you?

  A little personal, Kelly, but if you must know…I took the scenic route to the bathroom.

  Is it the one by my study hall?

  Yeah, how did you know?

  This boost to Kelly's guessing didn't come until after the blackout. I can’t believe I forgot about this. It was like Kelly's guessing had grown to another level; it was more like predictions which added another level of insanity, but it was all she had to go on. I have to find her.

  She closed her eyes, yearning for a peaceful, normal dream. It had become the norm to plummet into the ground only to find that she had not sustained any injuries. She stood up and looked at the crushed rubble beneath her that she had caused. No joint pain, no splintered shins. Nope, she was perfectly fine as if she’d just jumped from a stool, not the sky.

  All of a sudden Amber heard tires screeching, struggling for purchase on the road. Metal grated against metal, followed by glass breaking and the warping of metal as the car smashed into the ground. Upon impact, the car alarm went off and the car was engulfed in flames by the time Amber found it. Her eyes followed the trail of fire, created by the accident, through the steep underbrush to the highway. Amber flinched with alarm, at the sight of a man standing by the mangled guardrail. He waved his hands at her, desperate to get her attention.

  “Back away, the road is unstable,” Amber shouted, rubble and debris crumbling at his feet.

  The man didn't budge as if he couldn't hear her. He stopped, leaned forward, using the part of the guardrail that was still intact for balance, and yelled something back to her. At least it looked as though he were yelling based on the redness of his face. No matter how much he exerted himself, Amber couldn't hear a word.

  “Get away from the rail, it’s not safe,” she tried to yell to him, but no sound escaped from her, either. She attempted this plea several times before she decided it would be more practical if she sped up there to move him. She ran through the twisted and gnarled underbrush, but when she got there the man had vanished.

  The highway seemed to stretch out beyond her to an impossible distance, but she zipped down its length within seconds. Still no sign of the man, but she now found herself at the edge of an obscure location overlooking the city. How did I get here? Almost losing her footing, she was forced to take a few steps back. The edge of the cliff disintegrated beneath her, warning her to back away and fast. Once back on solid ground, she tuned into some voices off in the distance.

  The voices started off muffled and then proliferated, rising together all at once. It had to be fifty, maybe a hundred of them. She couldn’t tell, but it sounded like they were cheering. Then the crowd hushed and she could hear two distinct voices amongst them.

  “I almost didn't make it. Has it started yet?” a hushed voice in the audience asked.

  “It just started; the general is about to speak,” replied another onlooker.

  The third voice rose above the other ones and everyone fell silent out of reverence. “I've rallied you all here, because the Quorum wishes to terminate our race. Well, let them come. Let's show them what it means to be united. We fight as one. We die as one. What's the point of possessing incredible abilities if we're not permitted to use them? They may extract our abilities, but they can never change who we are. They will have to pry my power—your power—from our cold, lifeless hands. We will show them what it means to be …”

  The speech, left unfinished, was lost in the uproar of cheering.

  Then the cheering began to fade, growing fainter, until Amber could no longer hear the voices at all. She felt herself drifting away and then she opened her eyes.

  8

  May 14, 2008

  She opened her eyes, the dream already fading. Pulling the covers back, she reached for her clothes, got dressed, and ran downstairs. Her dad was already sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper with a breakfast spread laid out on the table.

  “Ah, you made breakfast. Thank you, Daddy!” Amber was famished. She buttered a piece of toast and took a sip of her orange juice.

  “I remembered something last night, but it might not be anything.”

  “What is it?” Amber queried.

  “It’s about the night of your conception.”

  “Awww Dad, gross.”

  “I’m only telling you at your behest.”

  “I know, but I didn’t know—”

  “I will keep it TMI free.”

  “Okay,” Amber replied, somewhat undecided, wavering over whether she should keep stuffing her face if what he said next was going to make her vomit.

  “Well, I don’t remember it.”

  Relieved, she shoveled a forkful of eggs in her mouth. “Dad, it’s been twenty-six years. I don’t remember what I was wearing yesterday much less what I did two decades ago.”

  “Yes, but it’s mo
re than that. I woke up with your mother in my arms—”

  “Dad,” she said with pitched eyebrows.

  “Relax…apparently we made a whole evening of it: dinner at the Bistro, champagne, dancing, more champagne and then…well, you know the rest. I don’t remember any of it.

  “But you just said—”

  “I’m telling you what your mother told me. We were going through a rough patch, suffering those miscarriages. Your mother had been so closed off for months when we thought we wouldn’t be able to conceive another child, but that night she was different. I saw that spark in her and it was like she was herself again. Laughing as if we hadn’t let the months slip away from us. It was as if we’d never grown apart. I had her back.” He stood up to clear his plate over the trash. “She was so happy. I hadn’t seen her so happy in a long time. She always talked about that night, reminiscing and reliving it. It was a turning point. I couldn’t—I wouldn’t disappoint her by admitting I had blocked it out. I wish I could remember more but I had my wife back. What difference did several hours make when I had just regained a lifetime with your mother.”

  “Did you drink that much, Dad?”

  “According to your mother, I had three, maybe four glasses of champagne.”

  “Hardly enough to make you lose time.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “You were roofied!”

  “Amber, I mean really, at my age?”

  “Do you have another explanation?”

  “No, but you asked me if I could remember anything strange and that definitely ranks high on my list.”

  “Hmmm, what’s the last thing you remember, leading up to that night?”

  “Trying to kiss your mother good-bye when she left earlier that morning to go to town.”

  What a light weight, Amber thought as she dug into her French toast, soaking it with maple syrup.