Infusion

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Infusion Page 7

by Alyssa Thiessen


  “We’ll figure something out tonight. For now, she’s hanging out near the warehouse.”

  Lisa stopped on her way from the courtyard. She stood awkwardly beside the table. “Hey, Rachel, I’m heading to class now. Wanna walk with me?”

  “Sure.” I stood. “See you later, Ty.” I waved.

  He nodded.

  “Ty, hey? You guys make such a weird couple.”

  My face grew warm again. “We’re not a couple,” I corrected her quickly.

  “Mm-hm.”

  I looked back at Tyler. He’d heard her. He grinned wickedly at me.

  As Lisa and I walked down the hall, her shoulder briefly touched mine. She didn’t believe me. She was sure we were dating, and her friends back there agreed. Not that I blamed her for thinking we were a weird couple. He was so clearly out of my league.

  As we approached the gym doors, she sung softly, “Enjoy phys-ed.” I was relieved to hear it; she hadn’t completely given up on our friendship. It was a private joke we shared. She said it every time I had gym. She didn’t have to take the class this year because of her extracurricular sports. She was part of a riding league and the captain of the community center Ringette team.

  “Always,” I answered flippantly. It was unfair. She loved physical activity and she didn’t have to take any of it. I hated it with a passion, and there was no escape for me. I was epically uncoordinated. We were learning basketball, a special kind of torture designed to humiliate vertically challenged individuals like me. In the change room, I didn’t rush into my unflattering gym clothes. The shorts hung too low on my small frame, making my legs look shorter than they were, and the shirt was two sizes too big. The whole outfit made me feel like a clown in pajamas.

  On the court, coach numbered us. Last year, he’d had the strongest players pick teams. In most ways, I liked that better. At least then, I knew whose team I would be on, and nobody complained. It was a given that, if they had last pick, I would be on that team. The numbering system was worse. I was randomly assigned to a team, so they were unprepared to have my particular brand of skills. That year, I also ended up in a particularly athletic gym class, which made it so much worse.

  We started with drills. The maneuvers were the ones where I usually ended up dribbling the ball off my foot and hitting somebody in the face. Or tripping on my own feet as I moved in for an embarrassing attempt at a lay-up. Or having to lean against the wall to catch my breath after about thirty seconds of man-makers.

  The usual torture began: sixty seconds to run to centerline, do a push up, run back— and repeat. I groaned as we lined up. But when the stop whistle sounded, I hadn’t even broken a sweat.

  I straightened up, looking around. People were staring. I ducked my head. I remembered the fence I’d scaled so easily. And I’d known how to fight the creatures—at least, at a basic level. Ever since Elliot had done his thing, I was definitely in better shape. As we moved into dribbling drills, I quickly discovered not only was I faster than the others—even the superstars—but my body’s response to my mind was flawless.

  When I finished my first lay-up, there was a different kind of whistle. I looked around to find a boy I recognized. He played on pretty much every sports team. I’d never spoken to him. He flashed a grin and brushed his blond hair out of his eyes with a casual swipe.

  “Nice work!” He was impressed. I impressed him. I suddenly felt shy.

  I wasn’t interested in the jocks in my school, but to have one of them whistle at me ... . It was stranger and more unfamiliar than getting the basketball through the net. He was good-looking enough. I attempted to smile back, and he approached me like he wanted to talk to me.

  The coach blew his whistle to move us into a practice game. I complied quickly, relieved. I’d never been noticed before, other than by Jared. It was flattering, but I didn’t really want to be noticed. Not by this boy, anyway.

  Chapter Eight

  The warehouse lights were on when I arrived, but it was silent inside. I sought their energies. No trace of fear or worry. Just their familiar combination of strength and confidence. I opened the door and cautiously peeked in. They were sitting in a semi-circle on the ground, holding hands. It reminded me of summer camp when I was a kid, except nobody was singing.

  Tyler glanced up first; then Sarah, Dee, and Jonathan looked up simultaneously.

  “What are you guys doing?”

  “We’re working on pulling thoughts,” Jonathan answered quickly. His already high-pitched voice raised an octave. “It’s amazing!”

  “Pulling thoughts?”

  “Yeah,” he went on in a rush. “Looking for random information.”

  “I was thinking,” Sarah interrupted, “when Elliot said we were supposed to seek information, we thought it was pretty pointless. Every time we went with him to try, we’d just find out whatever they were thinking about at the moment, mostly about fighting us. If we were looking for something big and important that happened recently—that was easy enough.”

  I thought of how quickly Tyler drew out my memories from the night of my death. Those were big events. And he hadn’t been overly successful, either.

  “But if we could pick out anything we want to see ...?” Her brows rose.

  “So how does this work?” I asked, sitting down between Tyler and Jonathan, crossing my legs like theirs were. “And isn’t it kind of—invasive—to practice on each other?” I was pretty sure there was stuff in my mind I didn’t want them to see.

  Sarah shrugged guardedly. “It is a little invasive, but you can see what they’re looking at, especially if you pay attention and know what they’re doing. When they get too close to a memory I don’t want them to have, I let go. Not perfect, but it’s okay.”

  I thought about her current situation. “And it’s working?”

  “Kind of,” Jonathan said cautiously. “It’s hard though.”

  I extended my hands and they each took one. As soon as we touched, a rush of images flooded my mind, as if two people shouted at me at the same time. Energy streamed from everyone as well, simultaneously: loud, powerful, overwhelming. I yanked my hands back.

  Tyler laughed. “Crazy, hey? It’s even stronger with you here. But you only need to concentrate on one.”

  I took a deep breath and touched Jonathan’s hand, then Tyler’s. Again, the jolt of their collective energies ran through me. Images appeared. Closing my eyes, I tried to focus on Jonathan. Tyler’s thoughts became dull, faded, as Jonathan’s grew sharper, clearer. He was absorbed with Dee’s thoughts. Digging, he searched for information about what she’d had for lunch. It was so strange to see her memories through Jonathan.

  I focused a task of my own. Jonathan’s mother. He wasn’t thinking about her at all. If I could see his mother, I’d know it was something I found without his help. Other images intruded. I ignored them. Eventually, I detected a table, round and wooden. A woman sat across from him. Black framed glasses. Brown hair, graying near the temples. She drank a mug of steaming liquid—coffee? She gazed out the window at the rain.

  Another image interrupted the first—another woman. Olive skinned, slightly rounded features. She wore a waitresses’ uniform and a skirt that was too short for her size and age. Younger than the first woman. Prettier, too, in an exotic way. Deep brown eyes, familiar because they were identical to Tyler’s eyes. I glanced up at him and caught a wry expression on his face.

  He was reading my thoughts about his thoughts. “They make them wear that, you know,” he offered dryly, slightly offended, “but she’s already given them her notice. She’s almost a licensed doctor now. Just started her residency.”

  “She’s beautiful. I didn’t think anything negative.”

  “I know.” He looked away.

  The others worked quietly. I focused on Jonathan’s mother again. His mother frowned, deep lines creased her forehead. Someone was rummaging in my mind. It wasn’t Jonathan. He was busily exploring Dee’s mind. He’d found her lunch and was try
ing to sit in on her history class.

  I recognized Tyler’s energy. He concentrated on something specific, going through my school memories. I detected the school hallway, heard the bell. I tried to ignore him and focus on Jonathan, but Tyler’s presence was too persistent. It was my first day back. I was in English class. Studying him. Thinking about his looks.

  “I knew it,” he said quietly. He grinned and pulled his thoughts back.

  My cheeks were hot again.

  Jonathan glanced at me. “What are you so upset about?” He’d been drawn by my rush of embarrassment.

  Before I formulated any sort of answer, I sensed Sarah enter my mind, looking for something different. She moved through Tyler and explored a link to Elliot in my mind. Tyler was there, too, piggybacking her search. As soon as I knew what they hunted for, they found him.

  “You weren’t supposed to help me.” She grimaced.

  “I sensed what you looked for. As soon as I thought it, you saw it.”

  “I know. And as soon as I felt what Dee was looking for, it popped into my mind. How are we supposed to know if this really works?”

  “Couldn’t we ...?” It was Tyler’s thought, but we got the idea before he finished speaking.

  “Definitely,” Sarah said.

  We connected in the same thought so closely we weren’t sure who came up with it first. We’d find people to experiment with. Because they weren’t like us, they wouldn’t know what we were doing. Sarah wasn’t thrilled about the touching aspect, and I didn’t blame her. I wondered if she had anywhere to stay.

  “Dee already called her mom,” she responded to my curiosity. “They’re going to let me crash in the spare bedroom.”

  I tried not to show my surprise but everyone felt it.

  “I know, right?” Tyler wiggled his brows at me. “Allies in the most unexpected places.”

  Sarah disengaged herself. “Enough mind reading for you.” She stood and stretched. The rest of us followed suit.

  “So—we’ve practiced the mental thing. Are we going to get physical at all?”

  “I wouldn’t object to that.” Tyler’s gaze was on me. I avoided him.

  “Didn’t someone say Elliot had you guys doing drills, sparing and stuff?”

  “All the time,” Jonathan said. “He wanted us to get stronger and to figure out what our limits are.”

  “I wish I’d been part of it. When Ty and I fought the creatures, I couldn’t keep up. I need to make sure I’m ready for the next confrontation.”

  “Yeah. Every time Elliot took us there, I thought I was ready,” said Dee, “but I’d lose to them. I was lucky he was with me. If he wasn’t—I don’t know what would have happened.” She bit her lip. “No, I do know. If Elliot hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have made it home. Something about him made me feel strong. Protected, too.”

  “The first time I met him,” Sarah said, her tone softened, “I expected him to hit on me. But then he spoke, and he just—I just knew—”

  “You could trust him.” Dee finished for her. “That he was for real.”

  “That, and the fact he showed you stuff with his mind.”

  “I never fought them with him,” Jonathan said quietly. “I hung back and watched.”

  “I might as well have,” I murmured.

  “That’s not completely true.” Sarah changed the topic. “From what Tyler showed us, you did okay. But if you’re supposed to lead us in this crusade, shouldn’t you do better than that?”

  Tyler started to speak up, but I interrupted. “I never said I wanted to lead anybody. I already told Ty I’m not a leader.”

  “Tyler’s pretty sure of it, though. Said Elliot was, too.”

  This again.

  “Elliot didn’t tell or show me anything.” I had a strange impression I missed something. “At least not that I remember.”

  “Wonderful.” Sarah’s voice dripped sarcasm. “Not only have you never done any actual training, but your mind’s not working too well either?”

  “I never said I was a leader,” I repeated. “I don’t want to lead anybody. I want to be ready.”

  “Fine.” She waved her hand. “Tyler, I’ll spar with you.”

  I honestly wondered if she said it just to annoy me. Tyler shook his head quickly.

  “No. You’re the strongest, Sarah. You go with Rachel.”

  I turned an incredulous gaze on him. Was he trying to get me killed?

  “Fine.” She didn’t argue, and I wondered again why he wasn’t our leader. “But it won’t be as helpful for me.”

  “I’m not worried about you. Last time you and Elliot went, you took four of them by yourself. Maybe you can help Rachel. Jonathan and Dee can go together.”

  “I’ll sit out,” Jonathan promptly interrupted. “There’s an uneven number, and I learn better from watching.”

  “Maybe there’s an uneven number,” Sarah chirped, “because our leader is supposed to be leading, not learning.”

  “Or maybe,” Tyler shot back, “maybe Elliot was supposed to be here to work with us.”

  “Or maybe I’m supposed to play a different role,” Jonathan said quietly. “Maybe I’m not supposed to be fighting.”

  Everyone stared at him. He looked as if he was about to cry.

  I jumped in. Tyler insisting I lead them had to be good for something. “It’s fine. It would be great if Jonathan watched Sarah and me, so he can see what I’m doing wrong and maybe give me some ideas how to improve.”

  “Good,” Tyler agreed, nodding.

  “Whatever.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “So, are we going to start, or what?”

  Tyler and Dee wordlessly moved to the far end of the warehouse. Jonathan scrambled up on the tire rack to watch.

  “Ready? Let’s go.” Sarah lowered her body into a crouch, waiting. I didn’t move. “Fine.” She lunged at me.

  I ducked out of the way and slammed my fist into her midsection. Pain shot through my hand and up my arm as my thumb, clenched tight in my fist, cracked again.

  Sarah flew across the room and smashed against the wall. Through the spike of pain, I registered mutual surprise. I hadn’t realized I was going to do that, and she hadn’t realized I could. But she was instantly on her feet and running at me again.

  I moved forward and to one side, beating her approach, and clumsily threw my foot in front of her shin. She stumbled, landing hard on her hands. With a growl, I leapt onto her back. The force flattened her to the floor, and I clamped her arms to her sides with my knees. She writhed and yanked her arms free from my grip. She scissored her legs and rolled beneath me, then shoved me off. She started to sit up.

  I scrambled on top of her again, knocking her back down. My knees pressed hard into the bends of her elbows, crushing her arms to the pavement. My left hand covered her throat.

  I met her wide, startled eyes. I was as astonished as she was.

  “Get off,” she rasped.

  I jumped aside quickly. “Sorry.”

  “Again. You come at me this time.”

  “I think I broke my thumb.” I cradled my hand, but she shook her head.

  “Doesn’t matter. Come at me.”

  I had no idea how to attack someone. When she ran at me, I’d reacted. But to attack her? It felt especially wrong because we were so connected. Anger and frustration radiated from her, and I assumed she sensed my conflict.

  “Come on.” She waved her hand toward her position.

  Drawing a deep breath, I visualized her as the enemy, overlaying the image of something with sharp teeth and claws. Something trying to take the world from us. By the next breath, my wrath had risen to meet hers, and I charged. She dodged, and I matched my steps to hers. My injured fist connected solidly with her stomach. Fire shot up my arm, but the pain seemed distant compared to the heat of my anger.

  She retreated a few feet to recover her breath. I followed, pressing the unexpected advantage, and grabbed her hair. She tugged at my wrists, but I wrenched her to the flo
or. I pounced on her, pinning her with my knees, both hands around her throat.

  Her eyes widened more than before, and a bile-green color of fear swirled through her energy like ink dropped in water.

  I got up quickly. “Are you hurt?”

  She stood and walked around a little, limping. “I’ll be fine. We heal fast.”

  “Sorry,” I said feebly. The room had gone silent. Everyone gaped at us. I sensed their energies. No one was fearful. Not even Jonathan.

  “Yes!” Tyler’s shout broke the silence, and he clapped his hands. The sound echoed through the room. “That,” he grinned, clenching one fist, pointing at me with his other hand, “is why she’s our leader. You see it now, right?”

  I was embarrassed. My hand throbbed, and pain shot up my arm from my elbow into my shoulder.

  Sarah studied me thoughtfully, her eyes narrowed. “ She felt heavier than her size.”

  After a long moment, Dee said, “Maybe it’s like a cloak or ...” She paused, considering. “Or a mantle of leadership. Maybe her status, her rank, translates as real weight you can feel.”

  Tyler nodded.

  Sarah shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Well, she was good. But I’m human.” She didn’t need to explain.

  It was the reason I was so embarrassed. I beat her easily, but she wasn’t one of the creatures. We were flesh against flesh. Besides, I hurt myself.

  “What can I do?” I met her eyes evenly.

  “The same thing we all did. Train.”

  “Will you teach me?” I could’ve asked Dee or Tyler. To be honest, the idea of hand-to-hand training with Tyler wasn’t unappealing. But Sarah was our strongest fighter.

  “I won’t go easy on you.” Her expression hadn’t changed though I suspected she appreciated the request.

  “Don’t want you to.”

  “Fine. We begin tomorrow morning. Early.”

  I hesitated. The next day was Saturday. I would be at my dad’s. He would not be cool with me sneaking out before dawn—or after eleven.

  “Could we start Monday?”

  “Princess needs the weekend?”

  I wanted someone else to jump in. Give her a break, I imagined Tyler saying. She’s just getting used to everything.

 

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