Battlefield

by J. F. Jenkins

  Cadence laughed. “I can agree with that.”

  “Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first then? What if I decide I want to join?” Angela stared at Orlando.

  “I didn’t tell you it was okay to. This is dangerous and serious,” JD said with a frown.

  “No crap, but if you can do it, so can I. I’m not okay with what they did to me. I don’t want them to manipulate anyone else into it.” She’d made up her mind. The fear in her voice was gone and replaced with determination. Once she reached this stage, she couldn’t be swayed.

  JD pinched his nose. “We can talk about this later.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. You can’t make me stop, and you can’t make me forget all of this. I’m in.”

  “Someone help me out here?”

  Orlando rolled his eyes. “It’s sweet you’re going big brother on her, but she has a point. You can’t stop her. You should have thought about it before you made your big reveal. That was practically inviting her onto the team.”

  “We could use the assistance if she can prove useful, but let us not, what you call, jump the gun. Orlando, please introduce yourself so we can move on with business. We should not be long,” Alan said.

  There was a great deal of mumbling on Orlando’s part, but he obediently took off his mask, brushing his shaggy hair out of his face as he did so.

  Angela’s eyes practically bugged out of her sockets. “No way.”

  “Glad to know my reputation still stands at Morningtide. With that out of the way, what’s this other business?” Finally he decided to sit in a nearby chair, slouching.

  Alan nodded. “I took some of the samples stolen from the lab yesterday to my superiors on my ship. I only took a small amount of the liquids, and I made copies of the papers and computer data. While I’m sure the people on my ship are more than capable of deciphering what this information means, I would also like Cadence to look at it and make a report for me. They would like for me to tell you they are impressed with your work.”

  “You have a ship? Like a spaceship?” Angela whispered.

  “Please, save all your questions for when I am finished,” he said. He was starting to come into his own as a leader. It impressed JD. “I wish we had gotten to discuss another member joining this group before you decided to make it so, but what’s done is done. The Gelandrosimbol and Basatlavan, or green and blue tribes, are recruiting. We will as well. However, we will not be using a drug to force the abilities out of our members like they are. Our process is much different and much more selective, or it will be.”

  “But?” Orlando supplied.

  Alan laughed. “Always observant. We have been given our next task, along with all of the other charges in the area from my tribe.”

  “There are others?” JD asked.

  “Yes, please, save your questions,” Alan stressed the point. “Our task is to find the twelve test subjects who were injected at the party. Eleven now, since Angela is one of them. We must do so before they are found by the other two groups or...”

  Die. Orlando whistled quietly through his teeth.

  “I do not believe I have to explain why this is important?”

  All four teenagers shook their heads.

  “Excellent, but I will do some research on my own for the weekend. I am also in agreement that you have earned a break. Besides, you will find most of your information through word of mouth at your places of education and going where the youth your age commonly are. I will give you more details soon. Now is there anything else we should discuss before I attend to Angela’s needs?”

  JD nodded. “Code names. We’ve got to have something to call each other when we’re out there. I found a great one for Cadence. I was doing a thesaurus search for words to call smart people, and Slick popped up. I thought it was pretty awesome.”

  “I like it. Sad to say, but you’re stuck with Chihuahua Man. It sounds like you have a rep,” Cadence said with a smile.

  A rep? Already? JD could hardly believe it, but The Doctor had mentioned him by name. He even spoke his name with scorn, and he hadn’t even done anything worth talking about. Orlando was the one who caused a lot of the problems.

  “I think it’s fitting,” Orlando chimed in cheerfully, though the cheer could have been fake. His sarcasm got harder to read when he smiled. “You’re good at being annoying and yappy.”

  JD rolled his eyes and gave a dull laugh. “And you’re vile and spit like a llama. I think we’re calling you Llama Kid.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, I think so. And since I’m the leader and can’t do anything else, and this was my idea? It’s sticking.”

  “This? Is why I hate you,” Orlando grumbled. Everyone knew he didn’t mean it of course. “And darling sister?”

  He looked at Angela. “She’s lucky Number Twelve.”

  Epilogue

  The last date Orlando had been on was almost three years ago. It happened shortly after Dallas died, and it was with his ex-girlfriend who he later found out cheated on him with Jesse Jordan, of all people. Granted, she was a gold digger, and he knew that for a while when they were together. She and Jesse were still together in shallow bliss, and that was just fine by him. It did leave Orlando with a great deal of nerves as he entered Lunar Falls with Tait holding his hand however.

  They stood in line behind her cheerleader friends. Most of them were in cute, short-cut shorts and flannel shirts tied in such a way to show off their perfect midriffs. Their respective dates all matched of course. A few thought outside of the box and dressed in unique clothes. One girl and her boyfriend wore janitor suits. While all of the dances at Morningtide had been well attended, they were always done so by the same two or three cliques. At Lunar Falls, everyone came.

  Tait had bought the tickets for the dance earlier in the week without telling him. Frustrating, but he had paid for dinner. In fact, he had paid for everyone’s dinner. There had been six of them. The restaurant didn’t understand how to split a check, so rather than sit and agonize over who was supposed to pay what, Orlando took care of the whole thing.

  When was the last time he danced in public? He no longer knew the “in” way to move on the floor. It couldn’t have changed too drastically in just a couple of years though. He’d watched enough TV to have a vague idea of the new music and trends. On occasion he still enjoyed the next popular radio single. He’d make it work. All he needed to do was follow Tait’s lead.

  The dance itself was being held in the cafeteria. As soon as they entered, the two made a beeline for the far wall near the windows.

  “We’re here. How are you feeling so far?” Tait said.

  “You say that like I’m going to break out in hives or something,” he said.

  “I just know this isn’t your scene.”

  “Stop being so paranoid.” It wasn’t his usual thing, but he wanted to be there. The experience was exciting. Either that, or he’d have done anything to get out of the house. Though he’d been looking forward to going, even before the others invaded on his home.

  As it turned out, Angela wasn’t going to die. None of them were sure how the drug would affect her. Not dying was a step in the right direction. Cadence recommended she stay at The Apartment a little while longer, just in case she exhibited some bizarre super power. If genetics said anything though, she might not be able to do a thing. JD still hadn’t produced an ability, and it had been over a month. Of course, his powers were unlocked by the strange machine Alan had and not by The Doctor's drug.

  Tait was just about to drag him to the dance floor when she stopped to look at her phone. She read her text, rolled her eyes, and showed him a message from Peyton. “He needs money. Wait here? I’ll be right back.” She hesitated then leaned up to kiss his cheek.

  Then she was gone, and he was left alone to process what had just happened. She did kiss him, right? He hadn’t just imagined it. A few kids came up to say hi briefly, but conversation never lasted long. The waiting did, howeve
r. One minute soon became five, and then ten, and then fifteen. Peyton entered the cafeteria with his date and went straight to the dance floor. Orlando grumbled quietly to himself and debated sending her a text, but if she had been stopped by one of her many friends, he’d have a better job of getting her back inside by going in person.

  He stepped into the hallway, took a moment to adjust his eyes to the bright fluorescents overhead and went to look by the entrance. She wasn’t there. He waited by the bathrooms and still nothing. He was about to go back to the cafeteria when he felt someone tap his shoulder.

  “Sorry bud-deh, but yer match is in the jail,” one of the teachers, one Orlando hadn’t had yet for classes, said in a bad southern accent.

  “Huh?” He remembered then why they had worn the matching outfits. It was all part of the game that was the Sadie Hawkins dance. He had been caught in the hall without his date, and now he had to be “punished”.

  When he got to “jail”, which was, in reality, a small line of chairs against the wall guarded by a teacher, he found Tait sitting there talking to one of her friends.

  “Took you long enough,” she said when she finally noticed he sat down next to her.

  Orlando rolled his eyes. “You told me to wait there.”

  “Next time don’t listen so well. You ready?” She blushed and looked at the teacher standing guard.

  “For?” he asked confusedly.

  This time she rolled her eyes and kissed him quickly on the lips. Before he could say or do anything, she stood up, taking his hand in her own, and led him away.

  “We, what, huh?” He stopped, running over those two seconds again and again. Two wonderful seconds where he felt warm all over.

  “Bail? Remember? We talked about this yesterday at the mall. Forget already? Or was it just that good for you?”

  “Just that good,” he finally managed. This apparently wasn’t the answer she was expecting because she also stopped and stared at him. He could have sworn she was blushing, too.

  She took a good look around before pulling him toward the bathrooms. This area was much quieter. Every so often a few students would wander by, but for the most part it was empty. Not far from there was another entrance to the school. The lights were off, and he was pretty sure if the teachers could have, it would be blocked from the students entirely. Fire code no doubt left it accessible. It was here that Tait brought him, and here where she pulled him in closer for a longer, sweeter kiss.

  After a few seconds passed, she pulled away, looking up at him while biting her lower lip. “I know it was forward of me, but I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

  “I’m not complaining,” he said. He touched the small of her back, using it to bring her closer so he could kiss her again, and frowned when he saw her wince. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I slipped in the shower today trying to shave. I think I bruised my spine,” she said with a soft laugh.

  He nodded, and taking extra caution, he kissed her again. This was normal. Things couldn’t get any better.

  About the Author

  J.F. Jenkins lives in Minneapolis Minnesota with her husband, son, and two cats. She graduated from Bethel University in 2006 with a degree in Media Communication with minors in both writing and film. When she is not busy writing, she spends her free time playing games, reading, and spending time with her family.

  Also by J.F. Jenkins:

  Chapter One

  If she had to do it again, she still would’ve let him bite her. She couldn’t help it. He drew her to him. Denver Collins had that effect on women. Cheyenne Loveless was no exception to this law of nature, and she hated herself for it. Something about the way he walked, how he confidently strutted through the hallways of the high school without glancing at anyone or anything as he went. Or maybe it was those piercing green eyes that could make blood run cold with fear and then melt it and send it boiling with desire. He didn’t care about anything, and yet she still retained a deep fascination for him. A bite was definitely not a typical display of affection, but Cheyenne didn’t have the best luck with guys, so she would take what she could get. Sixteen years old and still hadn’t had a boyfriend. The Steelville High School population no doubt thought she was a loser. If not, they had a funny way of showing it. More often than not, she was treated as if she had the plague.

  Denver treated her the same way up until the night he bit her.

  The day started just like any other. She survived her classes and was set to enjoy her extra-long weekend. Cheyenne shut her locker door with extra oomph, just as she always did. The lockers were always sticky, and she practically body slammed herself into hers to get it to close. As she left the small brick-and-concrete building, she saw Denver clearly for the first time.

  He leaned against the side of the school coolly, the wind blowing his nearly black hair in front of his beautiful green eyes. Those eyes were the first things Cheyenne noticed about him. When the light caught them at a certain angle, they glowed like pure emeralds. Golf courses would envy his eyes.

  Certainly the rest of him was handsome as well: his broad shoulders, his well-toned body, and flawless tan skin. The eyes had her hooked though. She continuously found herself stopping to stare at him and catch another glimpse, almost as if to make sure he was real. Gorgeous guys hardly ever graced her presence, and such a beautiful creature couldn't possibly exist. Yet there he was, in the flesh. She couldn't approach him. Being shy made that impossible. Just thinking about it was giving her a small panic attack. As soon as she was caught staring, her eyes averted to anywhere but him.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled before hurrying down the sidewalk. He wouldn’t have heard her anyway, since she was nearly forty feet away. At least he shouldn’t have.

  “I’m used to it,” he called after her. This made her walk even faster, her face now uncomfortable from all of the blood rushing to her cheeks.

  How did he hear her? She risked one last glance at him before she ran the two blocks down the road to her house.

  Cheyenne plowed through the front door as soon as she got it unlocked and then shut it quickly behind her. She leaned up against the door and let out a deep breath.

  Her mother peered into the foyer from the kitchen. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just had a run-in with a boy at school and made a fool out of myself as usual.”

  Her mother laughed. It always made her slightly wrinkled face crinkle, but in an adorable way. Cheyenne could only hope she herself would age so well. “I bet he thought it was endearing and sweet. You’ll see, he’ll be asking for your number any day now.”

  “You always say that,” Cheyenne said quietly, setting her book bag down onto the floor with a grunt. The bag was heavy. Her whole life seemed to fit inside.

  “You know I don’t like it when you block the doorway with your things, honey.”

  “I’ll move it when I get done in the bathroom.” Cheyenne rushed upstairs to the nearest restroom and shut herself inside before turning on the cold water. She splashed her face a few times to try to cool off her skin and ease the tightening in her chest. Her eyes closed and she focused on relaxing, taking in deep, slow breaths before exhaling through her mouth. The tight feeling climaxed before finally dissolving, and she felt as if she could breathe normally again.

  She jumped when there was a soft knocking on the door.

  “Are you okay? You’ve been in there for fifteen minutes, sweetie.”

  Had it really been fifteen minutes? She glanced at the clock and then at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was still glowing red, and her hair was all over the place. Tears pricked her eyes, but thankfully those were starting to fade away without any signs of ever having been there to begin with.

  “I’ll be right out. I’m just having some trouble with my contacts.” Lying to her mother was the last thing she wanted to do, but breaking her heart would have been worse. Cheyenne’s social-anxiety problem upset her mothe
r a lot, and the look of disappointment on her face every time there was a panic attack was one of the hardest things to see. If there was one thing Cheyenne didn’t want to do, it was to be disappointing. All she had to do was dry her face and touch it up with makeup in a few spots, and nobody would know the difference.

  “All right,” she said, more to herself than anyone else, and opened the door. “Sorry. I’m okay now. What’s for dinner?”

  “I just made something light.” The two walked down the stairs. “I figured since you’re going to Rachel’s party tonight, you’d probably be eating there.”

  “Oh, right, that makes sense since we’re going to a nightclub and all.”

  Cheyenne had forgotten about the party, but Rachel had never been one of her close friends. The two were more like acquaintances, and the invite to the big birthday bash had been out of pure courtesy and obligation. Certainly the two got along fine, but to call them friends would have been a stretch. However, Cheyenne did say she would go despite it being held in the middle of the week. It didn’t make much of a difference. It was the week of the fall teachers’ conference, and there wouldn’t be any school until the following Monday.

  She wanted to try to make a new friend. She needed one, and this would be a great jumping-off point for her to do so. Cheyenne had promised her mother she’d try to make more of an effort to get out of the house and do different things. The goal was to get her experiencing new things in the world, starting in her own neighborhood.

  Her mother leaned against the doorway and gave her a soft smile. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

  “I know.” Cheyenne ran a hand through her dark hair, taking a moment to straighten it out. “But I need to go. I promised I would.” She paused and glanced at her mother nervously. “Will you help me find something to wear?”