“What do you mean? You’ve been trying to leave?”
Shouts from the parking lot interrupt our conversation. The Corporate Police are coming back to the current reality. We can hear them questioning each other. It won’t be long before they come looking for me.
“We need to move,” Sam grabs my wrist and pulls me further down the alley.
So many unanswered questions circle my mind, but he’s right. I match his pace as he releases his grip on me. Darting from darkened corridor to corridor, we try to create enough distance to gather ourselves. Sirens echo from all around us. I can’t tell where they’re coming from, but there are more of them. It seems like they’re everywhere.
Burning around a bend, we nearly slam into an armored police van barricading the street. Guns point at us from all angles. Shouts for us to freeze bark from every corner. They have no reason to take us in. They will kill us now. We need to act.
Sam looks to me and mouths the words. “Take cover now.”
I notice he has something in his hand. He rolls it under the van. My heart sinks as I scuttle back to the alley we came from. The officers are too busy looking at what he threw.
“Grenade!” one of the officers shout.
A bright burst rips from under the van, thrusting it up into the air. The heat from the blast forces me to squint. A loud crash rattles the ground where the van crumples down. Sam and I make it to the alley before the flames spread out from the explosion. Peeking out from the edge of the building I find no one left standing. The officer’s singed uniforms smoke on their motionless forms.
“They’re all dead,” Sam exhales. “Their consciousness is gone.”
“Are you sure?” I beg.
“Yes, but I feel more coming. They’re close. We need to move.”
I still stop to think about what he says before I remember that his push ability allows him to sense people’s awareness. My ability is different, I influence reality, he just feels it.
“I’m leaving San Diego,” I say. “I’m not sticking around here anymore.”
“Fine, but we need to get some space from them.”
Following his human radar, we navigate the dimly lit downtown, avoiding everyone. The sirens soften in the distance. The smoke thins the further north we get. My legs burn now. I can’t run much longer. It feels like we’ve been going for an hour.
“Stop… I need to rest,” I slam up against an old bus sign post.
Sam stops just ahead of me and nods. Catching his breath, he rests his hands on his sides, looking around the quiet street. Digging in his pockets, he pulls out a small metallic object.
“Whoa… what’s that?” I snarl. “What are you doing?”
His eyes narrow in confusion while looking at me. Then he catches on.
“Oh… no, this isn’t what you think it is.”
The last time he pulled something out, he blew up a van.
“It’s just a multi-hack tool,” he says, showing it to me. “It can hack electric vehicle systems. We need a ride.”
He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. Crossing the street, he eyes a newer blue hatchback. Looking both directions, he reaches the car and kneels at the driver’s door. It only takes a few seconds before he pops the door open. He waves me over. I’m not sure why I’m staying with him. Maybe it’s because I have no one else. He’s been nothing but nice to me even with the horrid situation I’ve been in today. I swallow and head over to him.
“Nice ride huh?” he smiles.
“I don’t know… it’ll work,” I force out a slight grin.
He rushes over to the passenger side and opens the door, holding out a hand, directing me in.
“This isn’t the prom, I can open a door.”
“Right,” he looks down.
I flop into the seat and buckle the belt before pulling the door shut. Sam slides in on the other side. With one hand on the wheel and the other on the tool, he rests it up against the front display. A few seconds pass before the car hums to life.
“Let’s roll,” Sam says. “North, right?”
I nod before the car quickly pulls us down the street. Finding the nearest onramp, we enter the freeway. The electric buzz of the engine is soothing. Almost makes me forget the day—almost.
Every minute that passes puts us farther away from the torn-up city. As my fear of what just happened eases a bit, my curiosity perks up.
“So, you going to tell me about it now?” I fiddle with the window controls.
Clearing his throat, he adjusts in his seat before turning to me. “Let me turn on self-drive.”
“Destination set, self-drive initiated,” A pleasant voice states from the vehicle’s speakers.
“It’s going to stay on the 5 until we tell it otherwise,” he says.
“That’s fine.”
He reclines his seat before resting his foot on the dashboard. He stares out his window.
“Merrick keeps his blood type on hand where ever he goes. As soon as those pigs showed up I knew it was my chance.”
“Chance?” I ask. “Chance for what?”
“I’m done with all the killing,” he sighs. “The city-wide attacks were the last straw. I used the blood to make it look like I got shot. I masked my consciousness from Eric. He thought I was dead. And then there was you…”
“What about me…” I glare at him. “…and why couldn’t you just walk away?”
His green eyes race back and forth searching for better words.
“It’s not easy to get out when you’re considered talented. They make your life impossible outside of the group. You’re wanted by the Corporate Police. Your family thinks you’re a terrorist.”
“Ok, I get it, but what about me?” I ask.
“It’s my fault your parents are dead. I should’ve been more careful extracting you. I’m sorry.”
Thoughts of my parents fill my mind. My dad working on his old Tesla in the garage. The joy he got from tinkering with first gen vehicles was his passion. Only me and my sister brought him more joy. Sure, my mom was focused on advancing her career and bettering our family at all costs, but she was still a good person.
“Why is it your fault?” I ask, emotions building.
“We were monitoring you for weeks. Terra was sure you were special and she was right. I pushed up the deadline to secure you. Normally we try to free Influencers outside of the workplace. The Protector’s network-wide mission was pushed up. I was reckless, I rushed things.”
My parents are dead, my sister fears me, but I don’t have any more hate in me today. I could easily blame him for this change in my life, but if he didn’t come for me I would have most likely been blown up in that building. Or caught up in the corporate Influencer roundup. I’m different from the little girl that started the day. Tears fill my eyes, pouring down my cheeks. I turn, burying myself into the seat. The weight of the day overcomes me.
“Just drive,” I mutter.
***
I’m woken by the rattle of the uneven road. Rubbing my eyes, I turn and look at the clock on the dash. It’s been almost an hour.
“Hey,” Sam says. “Glad you got some sleep.”
“Where are we?”
“We’re almost to Santa Barbra.”
Looking at the speedometer, I see he’s pushing one-twenty. With the attacks in San Diego, I doubt the police are worried about people going over the speed limit. He’s only going about fifteen mph over anyway. Not enough to draw much attention. It’s almost 8pm, but it seems darker than it should. I notice the freeway’s displays are all out. The vivid screens normally brighten the roads at night.
“What’s up with the signs,” I ask.
“L.A. was pretty lit up. I’m surprised the freeways we’re as clear as they were.”
“L.A.? Why was L.A. lit up?” I stiffen in my seat.
“Leeyah…” he pauses. “…It wasn’t just San Diego. This was a nationwide thing.”
“What? Humanity’s Protectors are nationw
ide? You need to fill me in, now.”
He reengages the autopilot and shifts to face me. “We… I mean the Protectors have been growing for a few years now. There are networks in almost every major city. This attack was set in motion six months ago. The plan was to cripple corporate America and expose the abuse of Influencers. I didn’t join to kill innocent people.”
“Oh, but blowing up whoever was in that building was ok?” I snarl.
“I had no choice. Wade is crazy. Merrick teamed him up with me because he knew I had a conscious. If I didn’t take down that building they would kill me. The Protector’s don’t let Influencers stray from the cause.”
“Not so good at protecting humanity, are they?” I scoff.
“That’s why I’m here with you,” he says. “I know you are good. And besides that, your ability is crazy powerful.”
Resting my head back, I fold my arms, “How do you know I’m good?”
“My ability goes beyond feeling the awareness of non-Influencers,” he swallows. “We might not be able to affect other Influencers with our Push, but I’m able to get a sense of people. Who they are.”
This is all so new to me. Just yesterday I thought this change in humanity was straightforward. Well, mind-blowingly odd, but at least it was easy to understand. Now I’m meeting people who can sense others, and I freakin’ can freeze time. The world is confusing.
“How does good feel?” I ask.
He smiles just a little, “I can sense intentions. It’s like a gut feeling about people, but a billion times more intense. Influencers connection to consciousness is so strong that they feel like open books. How they want to live life gives off different feelings. So, yeah, good is an easy one to recognize. You radiate it. I want to be around that.”
Warmth radiates on my cheeks. It’s dumb, but I can’t help feel special somehow. I guess it helps me forget the horror of the day for just a second.
“I don’t know what you are expecting here, but I’m just going home,” I say. “I don’t care about my magical powers. I just want to grieve and live a normal life one day.”
“This war is just starting and you can’t hide, Leeyah.”
War is a scary word and he knows how to use it. It puts me in a place of wanting to find something safe—someone safe.
“Take me home,” I plead. “If war finds me then it finds me. Until that time comes, I’m going to live for me. And if living for me is selfish, well I don’t care. Humanity might need protecting, but until if figures out who it needs protecting from I’m going to live like I mean something too.”
***
30 years later, Influence begins…
INFLUENCE
Book One of the Influence Series
By David R. Bernstein
1
FOOLISH EMPATHY
I CAN’T SENSE his awareness. He could be dead, but even the deceased emit a faint echo that my mind normally picks up. The way he’s propped up against the old, rusty signpost with his head dangling to the side makes me think he’s been there a while. It’s not like I make it a point to hang around corpses, so maybe it’s just that conscious imprints fade with enough time. I really don’t know.
Amanda couldn’t care less as she yanks on my arm, forcing me back to the road. A pit in my stomach tightens my breathing as my typically cautious approach to strangers fades a bit. Amanda always focuses on keeping my ability a secret over everything else, but her concern isn’t reaching me.
“I don’t know about this, Kay,” she says as I drag her small frame back toward him. “This isn’t our problem. We can’t stop now. It’s getting dark. We need to get to Bullhead.”
She knows traveling in this desert wasteland at night adds another layer of danger to our situation. There’s something about the darkness that brings out the worst in desperate people.
“I know, I know, but what if he’s alive. I could be just having an off day or something?” I bite my lower lip, thinking of what to do next. “The guilt of letting him die... it feels wrong.”
Staring beyond the cracked and crumbling highway, I track a tumbleweed moving through the lifeless expanse. Even it is taunting me to move on. Ignoring my doubts, I lean in and check for a pulse. Amanda groans while she rolls her eyes in disapproval. My fingers swipe across the stubble of his neck as I search for signs of life. “Oh crap…” I bite down harder, “…he’s definitely alive.”
“That’s not possible,” Amanda says, knowing my unique skill has never failed to give us a heads up. “Now what?”
“Grab his legs,” I say without hesitation.
“I swear… Times like this, you really show your age.”
I can’t stand it when she says that. It’s not like being seventeen is that young, considering how messed up the world has become. She means well and her heart is in the right place, but just because she’s older than me doesn’t mean I can’t think for myself.
We drag his lean but heavy body off the road. Patches of taller brush will provide some much-needed shade from the intense late afternoon sun.
I might not be the bravest person, but I’m also not one to pass by someone in need. I’ve been an orphan since I was three—I know what it feels like to have no one in the world who gives a crap whether you live or die.
Amanda found me six years ago, and all that changed. She’s five years older than me, from the once-resource-rich sector group known as the Terrance Party. They were a group of former renowned political families who, toward the end of society, came together in hopes of creating a new government for the former United States.
Drops fall from the young man’s forehead as I use some of our precious water supply to cool his exposed skin. I can feel Amanda’s eyes burning a hole in the back of my head, and I know she doesn’t approve. The guy, who doesn’t look much older than me, begins to breathe more comfortably. He looks peaceful as we trickle fluids into his mouth, which force him to swallow. His dried and cracked lips peel apart as he sips in small amounts of oxygen. Each exhale expands and is deeper than the one before. The immediate threat to his health appears to have eased, but our next step is still unknown.
“We have to go now,” Amanda urges, looking at the fading horizon. “It’s going to be dark in an hour or so. We don’t know who this is and I really don’t care. Let’s go.”
“Let me think a minute, okay?”
It’s been almost eight hours of pushing ourselves way too hard to reach this town. There’s nothing but dust, heat, and more dust between Bullhead and our last supply stop. Even before we stumbled upon this guy, the water bladders we each carry on our backs were nearly empty, and we still have an hour or two to travel. Sweat trickles off my ponytail and down the back of my tank. The stinging heat is dragging us down. We wouldn’t normally attempt this long a trip, but the chance to stock up on food rations is far too tempting to pass up. Waiting here much longer will only lower our odds of reaching Bullhead before nightfall. With the limited resources in the Lost Souls sector, there is really no choice but to take these kinds of risks. Lost Souls is one of the last sectors that is not controlled by corrupt groups. Not that there’s much to control here anyway.
“Let’s at least wake him so he can try to move on before it gets too late,” I say.
The unknowns involved in this idea really test my dedication to empathy. That plus, for some strange reason, unlike every other person I meet, I’m unable to feel this boy’s consciousness. This fun fact makes me reevaluate.
“Are you crazy?!” Amanda eyes widen. She looks almost frantic as her body tenses. I’ve never felt this from her before.
“Okay, okay, fine. But, wondering if we left him to die is going to haunt me,” I say while Amanda tugs on my arm, leading me away.
“Wondering is better than us dying, Kay.”
We’re edging closer to the road when we hear a raspy and desperate voice call out to us.
“Wait, please don’t go.” His voice struggles to carry the ten yards or so we’ve walked.<
br />
We turn to find him staggering to his feet, legs wobbly. Without a second thought, I run and put my shoulder under his arm and try to support his solid frame. Amanda rolls her eyes again, but she still manages to find the compassion to come and support the other half of his body.
“Thank you.” The words barely escape his mouth.
I look up at him and give a cautious smile. Dark hair covers his eyes as he continues to regain his strength. His breathing looks more natural now and he starts to carry more of his own weight. As he pulls his head and shoulders up, his stature is more noticeable. He is much taller than me, and I am not short.
My long legs make traveling easier than it is for Amanda. Having to work for everything in this expansive sector doesn’t allow for us to be lazy. Each town or outpost is miles and miles apart. You rarely see working vehicles anymore and when you do, they often come from a neighboring sector group’s scout patrol. Constantly traveling by foot forces us to remain fit and strong.
I catch myself as I scan his body, noticing his clothes. They are not the common, tattered apparel of the people from the Lost Souls sector. Uncertainty fills my mind, but I guard my reactions and act casual. His pace slows, and his head turns back to the road sign where we found him.
“Can you guys hold on a minute?” he says, slowly walking back on his own. “I forgot my bag and supplies. I hope it’s okay that I tag along for a bit.”
With his back to us now, my eyes lock with Amanda’s as I mouth the word “clothes.” She nods in understanding. The outfit he’s wearing had to come from an outside sector group. The last remaining shops were ransacked long ago, leaving little for choice in Lost Souls. You never see people with new, complete outfits unless you are part of a sector group’s organization. Unlike our mismatched clothes, his look is put together with a purpose. The stiff, buttoned-up, dark navy shirt and matching cargo pants can’t make traversing this sector pleasant. Our suspicions are confirmed as we get a good look at what we recognize as a Magnus-issued backpack he returns with. Brown and plain with only one subtle yet distinctive marking. If we weren’t so familiar with this logo, it would be easy to overlook: embroidered, red double lines that trail the side of the pack. The lines are supposed to represent all paths leading to the Order. Amanda and I again exchange glances; we both know we need to act cool.
Humanity's Protectors: An Influence Series Origin Novella Page 5
