by Alexa Dare
He blinked. Eyelids worked. Check.
Above, an odd form of a geomagnetic storm, caused by a boosted EMF pulse burst. In view of his current state, one might deduce the bolts hit EMF sources, such as the living.
Whoa, man. Where had that brain full of big-worded facts come from?
Unable to tell if it were evening or night, he lifted his weighted skull upon a wobbly neck.
Able to lift head. Double Check.
He turned his head to the side.
Bodies littered the Rocky Top parking lot. Blood covered some, from their earlier Stoners versus Preppers fight. Others, more recent, bore singe marks. A charred, rotten-but-sweet stench hung in low puffs of smoke.
As he sat up, a sour burp spilled a burn over his tongue. Oh, man, his gag reflex was in perfect working order. A prickle crawled over his scalp. He wiggled his fingers. His toes moved, but the tip of his white left sock was seared brown. Several feet away, his boot stood upright, the leather smoking atop the asphalt.
He’d been on his way inside, but the smoke had been too thick. Not able to get to his uncle and Irene… What then?
Lightning strikes.
“Abe? Junior?” He jerked upright. A dizzy spin stomped his temples until he lay back down and shut his eyes. “Irene? Uncle Merv?”
Had he devised a valve of sorts to harness a likely surge to an EMP device, a freak storm might very well have been avoided. Man, the verbose thoughts racing over the curved roads of his mind filled in his skull.
The ache in his head banged a discord of—
“It’s like my brain’s all of a sudden super boosted.” He rolled on to his hands and knees. Comprehensive speech. Triple Check. He crawled across the pavement toward the rock where Abe once raged at the sky. Brody didn’t need any sort of ramped smarts to tell him the bodies he first crawled across, then stepped over, were corpses.
Leaning against the rise of stone, another big thought struck Brody: Will they stay dead, or will the dead revive from future lightning strikes?
“If the first blast took out their brainwaves entirely, then no reboot, right?”
Had the orange orbs within the black clouds brightened in color a bit? Of course they had, the EMFs would be in a constant state of flux, recharging after each storm blitz. More strikes were likely, but there was no way to scope out the end results. Not after a single cycle. Not even his boosted brain held forth an answer.
Leaning on the rock, looking upward, he called out, “Abe? You up there?”
On top of the stone mound, Abe popped into view. The pupils of the teenager’s eyes glowed bright orange.
Brody edged backward. His heel caught, and he sprawled across a corpse’s legs. His butt banged asphalt with a teeth-jarring thud. Letting out a squeal, he scurried to his feet.
You never get used to dead people lying around.
Abe looked normal, except that his hair stuck up in spiky sprouts. No more glowing orange eyes, thank goodness. Climbing down, he held out his hand.
As he helped him down, Brody considered that he was probably seeing things due to an over-active cerebral cortex.
“Stop it,” Brody muttered. At Abe’s sharp look, he said, “Sorry, my thoughts sort of amped to the max. The strike threw my brain for a gigantic thought loop.”
Brows hiked and eyes wide, Abe stared at Brody’s smoking boot a few feet away. “I did this. I created the storm and somehow caused the lightning.”
“My fault. At times, I carry so much in my head that I forget to share what’s going on. I should have told with you that we were trying to parse the energy behind the blast out. If I’d told you the way I should have,” said Brody, rolling his eyes skyward at the ominous clouds, “things would have turned out differently.”
“I tried to help.” The tightness in his face reflected his frustration.
“You’re thirteen, busting at the seams to be a man.” Brody chuckled. “When I was your age, Cantrell got so ticked off at me he hid all my tools. He dared me to take another thing apart or build one more device until I pulled my head out of my, uh, butt.”
Abe glanced at the stacked rocks of Cantrell’s resting place. A dawning washed over Abe’s face. “Your brother came here. He’d turned. You found him after the blast and buried him.”
“His body was on the ledge. At first, I thought he was, uh…you.”
A sheen of pooling tears, no unreal glow, filled the boy’s golden-brown eyes. He croaked out, “I only meant to help.”
“You did. We wiped out the zombies, didn’t we?” Brody grinned. “We just got a little carried away is all.”
Wind whipped in rising swirls over the peak under a black sky that reached almost to the steel and glass building. Amid low growling thunder, the orange blips—a tad brighter than before—served an obscure reminder of all that was changed.
“Okay, maybe more than a little.” He shrugged and gripped Abe’s upper arm, like Cantrell had done with him only a few short years ago. “My brother told me this. Your brain and who you are right now is like trying to fit a big foot with hairy toes into shoes two sizes too small. Maybe it’s time to move on to a better size.”
“Your brother had a way of saying things.”
“He did.” Inside, a part of Brody shriveled under his ribs as he watched Abe scan the strewn-out bodies of the dead.
“Irene? Merv? Junior?” Abe stood straight as if bracing for the answer. “You look inside. I’ll take the woods.”
“Wait.” Brody brushed his knuckles on the curve of his chin. “I can’t wrap my thoughts around such elusive ideas.”
“Huh?”
“Sorry.” Brody, arms hanging slack, took in the bodies, the smoking building, the weirded-out sky. “My thoughts are swirling. I can’t filter right now how they pop out.”
“Right.” Abe lifted his brows as if the storm wasn’t the only strange thing on the mountain. “Must be the bolt hit, I’m burning up.” He swiped at his flushed face. Reddish orange shifted deep in his eyeballs.
Brody leaned in, staring deep into Abe’s eyes.
“What?” Abe blinked and stepped away.
“Maybe you should stay put?” Brody met the teen’s gaze. The eerie glow...some sort of mirage from staring at the blinking flashes in the black clouds? “Or maybe we should search together.”
Just inside the woods and among several trees with smoking treetops, Brody stepped onto a patch of moss.
“Hey, watch out,” a soft voice spoke from the ground. “Kid down here.”
Both Brody and Abe stepped back a few steps.
Cradled in a dip in the soft earth, Junior lay flat on his back. The sunken earth hugged the kid as if molded to his half-pint frame. A layer of heady soft black soil and deep green moss covered him. Except for his eyes, the forest hid and sheltered the ten-year-old.
Abe stooped. He touched the thin layer of dirt and moss. “You’re part of the earth.”
“And you’re part of the fire. When the lightning took you down, all the fire went out.”
Abe glanced about the treetops. A swish of fire shot like a laser beam from his eyes.
“Whoa.” Junior shifted in his earthen bed.
“Our EMF fields were boosted and our powers enhanced.” Hordes of thoughts raced like shooting stars through Brody’s skull. Mentally, he tried to catch a few and hold on to them.
“Makes you double smart, huh?” Abe aimed his gaze. Flames shot out from his eyes and hissed to engulf a cedar tree.
“Whoa, you’re smokin’.” Brody stepped back.
“You’ve been waiting to say that, haven’t you?” When Abe closed his eyes, the throw of flame receded and went out.
“Yep.” Brody chuckled. “You got a sense of where the others are? Like before? If we can configure their location—”
“Huh?” Junior crossed and uncrossed his eyes.
“Do we know where they are?” Abe shook his head as if to make sure the fire lasers were out. “I don’t sense the others. You?”
Junior lay back. He propped his once-broken ankle on his other knee. “I tap into the earth, and the ground tells me stuff.” A broad grin spread like warm creamy peanut butter over Junior’s face. “I even know right where they stand.”
A touch tickled the bottom of Brody’s sock foot. “Whoa.” He jumped back.
Tiny prongs of moss wiggled as if alive.
“You’re doing that. Stop.” A shudder trailing his spine, Brody held up his bootless foot. “It’s just not right.”
Junior giggled.
A tingle skipped across the top of Brody’s bare foot. On pain-free feet, he wiggled his toes. Had his uncle’s healing suddenly taken hold? A recall of the big guy’s spicy cologne and his full-out gentle hug warmed Brody inside and out.
Is Uncle Merv now able to heal with his mind?
“My…my...my cut and gunshot wound, even my heart doesn’t hurt. It’s as if, in a way, my uncle finished healing me somehow.”
“So your uncle must be alive.” Even though the area around Abe’s eyes tugged taut, Abe smiled big and wide. “And so is Irene.” At that moment, the kid looked far older than his thirteen years. “There’s no stopping me from protecting us or rescuing Hannah and Darcy Lynn.”
A massive roar of thunder drew Brody’s gaze. The orange glowed larger, more orange. A shifting sensation tingled over Brody’s scalp. “More zaps will be coming as well as change, to others and the environment, because of them.”
“And no telling what that might be.” Abe squared his jaw and jutted his chin. “Let’s search the building and then the woods.”
“Let’s find them.” Filthy, Junior stood and halfway dusted off. “Brainy Guy, Tunnel Rat, and Burn Boy to the rescue.”
On the way to the Observatory, Brody’s chuckle dried up as he paused beside the rock mound.
Junior brought a sprig of some sort of plant. “It grows in rocky places.” Junior stuck his fingers into the dirt beside the grave and tucked in the stem. “It’ll bloom white and purple flowers to cover the grave.” The plant instantly took root and flourished into climbing vines. Within seconds, green leaves overtook the rocks.
“We’re sorry for your loss.” That strange orange glow once again pulsed in Abe’s eyes.
“So am I.” Brody licked the salty frown of his lips as the boys headed toward the smoking building.
Wrapped in the sweet scent of morning glory buds on the twisting, fast-growing vine, he hung his head. “If only you’d held out a few more days. With the brain boost, you’d have grasped that chaos stuff in no time at all.” Patting the stones, he stroked a tiny flower bud. A sprout of the vine curled around his finger as if to comfort him. “Times have changed. I’ll try to do my best by these kids. I swear I’ll do whatever it takes to make the man you truly were proud.”
Chapter 31
Nora lied, and lightning struck. Yet later, within the blanket of a strange night, she woke in the drab browns and dull grays of a forest under a pile of dead.
Where am I?
With such an amount of voltage… Yes, she was dull witted for a bit. It was a wonder she survived. But the burnt flesh odor meant others had not. The weight across her chest crushed her lungs. She writhed to free herself from the wedge of bodies. The woman she just killed lay under her, while three corpses piled on top.
In slow blinks, as she rested on her back, she gazed past the treetops.
Orange lights winked in a shifting black sky.
Her limbs quivered. Her knees and elbows jerked as if the bolt strike warped her motor skills. She pushed at the dead men lying atop her but failed to shove away the corpses. The dryness of her eyelids scraped her eyeballs and the stink of decomposition layered so thick her tongue lumped and quivered at the back of her throat.
A pulsing thrum echoed in her ears. She keyed her hearing on the steady beats of hearts.
Ah, yes, her skill was hers once again. Except for her odd arm and leg quirks, she was herself in all her glory. She arched her back, dug in her elbows, and inched out from the pile. Once freed, she lay on the forest floor, her legs and arms like lead.
Off to the right, just behind a thicket, four hearts beat.
Perhaps those of Roderick, the boys, and Brody.
Oh, yes, having the bright young man join them would be the whipped cream and cherry on top.
No bird or insect sounds reverberated through the dim forest. She strained to hear, but the beat of her son’s pulse was not close by. How could he have left her like this?
A son intent on betrayal and revenge.
Closer in and to Nora’s right, two pulses echoed. Ah, yes. The two female Children of the Elements.
Her mouth pulled in what felt like a lopsided smile, Nora hauled her body upright by pulling hand over hand up the trunk of a small tree. Her stiff arms and legs fought her efforts, but she hobbled toward the brush where she had placed the girls out of sight.
Leaves of the bushes sizzled. The ground around the girls’ heads smoked. Hit by searing bolts, yet the paranormally gifted children’s hearts beat strong.
Those other four heartbeats, belonging to a group or a small mob, drew closer.
“She has them hidden away,” said a woman.
“Hand the evil spawn over,” another not so lady-like voice ordered. “And we let you live.”
Nora, her joints stiff, turned to face the source of the voices.
A slender woman, with long, coarse hair dyed maroon and wisps of smoke rising from her scalp, gripped a rock.
“Your hair’s on fire,” Nora said.
The stench of scorched hair hung like ground fog in the pines.
“I’ll put it out.” The female in a sacklike housedress, rock in hand as well, swung toward the first woman. When the rock hit her in the temple, the woman with the smoking head crumpled and fell.
A man in a red plaid shirt and jeans rushed from the rear. He shoved the young woman aside, lurched forward and clawed at Nora’s face.
The thumps of their fast-racing hearts rose in volume. The drumming shut out the flurry of leaves in a rising breeze.
The lag of her limbs cost her. Unable to move fast enough, Nora flinched away. The vision of the superb pop of his heart rose in her mind. As his hand swiped too close by her face, she lunged for the man’s wrist.
In huge rasps, before she was able to reach him, the man hissed out a wheeze. The flesh of his face turned blue. He seized his chest, and his body pitched toward Nora. From the obvious burst of his heart, blood gushed from his mouth, nose, and ears.
Nora ducked. In a two-handed push, she shoved the body away and only shared her touch after his death.
What had just happened?
He lay, mouth open and tongue lolling out, on the ground.
“You killed him.” The thin woman backed away.
I want more.
She shoved her legs into motion, dragging one after the other. Both hands out, she was unable to catch the fleeing woman. Tilting her head to the side, she homed in on the heartbeat within the maroon-haired woman swaying to her knees, as well as the other one preparing to flee.
Ever so slowly, their pulses lagged.
Just as Nora willed, the quiet between beats spread out farther apart.
After a short time, both women toppled face first to the forest floor.
Oddly missing the expected headache and the metallic tang that hit after using her power, Nora bent at her waist and swayed over the women’s bodies.
Urine smell of a bladder let go did not take away from the thrill of ending a life.
Without touch.
Nora held her breath as the women’s hearts stopped. For good. Dead and gone, more bodies lay like fallen logs. From killing with her bare hands to murder with her mind.
“Intense.” her knees wobbled. She held out her hands. Her pale flesh grayed in the gleam of the orange glow.
Strange.
Her hands shook and her fingers curled inward toward her palm. Despite the effects of the bolt,
never had killing been so easy.
Or so lovely.
The fragrant pine boughs over the girls swayed. Gentle breezes swished upward and outward from their location. Nora aimed for the nearest tree. With locked knees and ankles, she pushed off the trunk. In small clumsy steps, she stumbled to their hiding place.
Around the girls, a light mist swirled. The damp breeze lifted Darcy Lynn’s curls. Dewdrops clung to Hannah’s locks. Their gifts had grown as well. So much so, they ruled wind and water even in their sleep.
If only my son were here.
Had he chosen to join her... Might he be able to manifest sickness without drawing at all? If so, he might be able to cause a plague by only visualizing such devastation in his mind and focusing on the specific location and victims.
For now, teen angst denied Nora the use of such power.
“When are we going back home?” A child’s voice lifted on the light gusts.
Walking through the woods, two bronze-skinned boys, three or four years old at the most and twins, held the hands of an older teenaged girl. Both of the boys wore white T-shirts. One of their shirts was a stark white even in the gray of the woods, and the other child’s shirt was stained with rusty streaks.
The teen, with reddish blonde hair and green eyes, gasped at the sight of Nora. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”
Nora touched her cheek, and the tips of her fingers came away smeared with blood. She swiped away the wetness on her pant leg and pulled her son’s drawing from her blouse.
The pencil sketch Vincent created of her face, drawn with bloody seeping tears, stared back at her.
“Well played, my son.” An odd cold burgeoned under Nora’s ribs.
“Ma’am?” asked the teen girl.
“Welcome. Please help me with the girls, and we’ll all get to safety.” A droplet dripped from her chin to splat red on the tan of her shirt where the heady copper scent taunted her.
Was she dying? Would her disease be a rarity? Perhaps a onetime only occurrence? Or a great plague? Her wily son, capable of both, cursed her with an illness drawn from the void.
Nora ground her back teeth then pressed the tip of her tongue against loose molars. Her own son had done this to her. Snarling, Nora ripped the drawing of herself to tiny bits. As the slips sifted from her hands, the swirls of wind carried them away as the flow of the breeze rose and ebbed with the timing of Darcy Lynn’s breaths.
