Marked

by Penelope Scott

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2016 by Penelope Collins.

  All rights reserved under Penelope Collins. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter One

  ~*Chase*~

  Run.

  It wasn't a word. It was a feeling. Her feet itched and her mind screamed at her. "Run! Run!" She didn't know why. Something was after her, something terrifying. She couldn't let it catch her; she had to run away.

  Go quickly.

  The dreams were coming more frequently now, more fiercely. Every night she woke up bathed in sweat but she couldn't remember why. All she knew was that she had to keep running. If she didn't they would catch her. And then something terrible would happen. She didn't want to find out what it was.

  Don't let them catch you.

  The feelings came during the day now too. She was standing all alone on a crowded corner, her eyes never ceasing in their nervous movement although her body was still. Anyone could be one of them, one of the Hunters. They would find her, and they would catch her, and that would be the end.

  It'll hurt.

  She started walking when the light changed. Her eyes followed every even remotely suspicious person but she didn't stop. She could never stop. Her feet carried her to the nearest drug store, where she grabbed a basket and started wandering through the aisles. 'Take only what you need.' She told herself. 'It's alright, you can do this. You will be forgiven. You don't have a choice.' That seemed to be her favourite mantra, 'you don't have a choice.' And wasn't it true? She had no money, but she was desperate. She chuckled when she thought that two weeks ago she never would have even considered shoplifting. But lately she had become a thief; lately she was becoming a lot of things.

  But she was nervous. It was her first time trying it since her mother…God, how long ago was that? Had it really only been three days? Her mother had been having the dreams too; she got the feelings like she did. After the Hunters found them the first time they ran. They'd been running ever since. That was only two weeks ago. Were they really all gone? She'd never felt so alone in her life.

  Behind her, a TV played news coverage of the latest terrorist bombings. They'd hit the Olympics in Athens a few months ago. Hundreds of thousands of people were dead. A hurricane in Japan destroyed most of the island country, and the countries of northern Africa were suffering the worst drought in history. Thousands died of dehydration every day. And still the feelings told her 'something worse is coming'.

  She grabbed a bottle of shampoo and a couple of sticks of deodorant from the shelves and moved on. She found herself looking at rows and rows of Tylenol. She grabbed several bottles, and then two boxes of tampons. No…better make it three. She found a few other odds and ends, a razor, shaving cream, bandages and a new toothbrush, a tube of minty toothpaste with whitening. They were all little things that she had taken for granted before it all started. She stared at the other people in the store, wondering how they could all carry on as they were, like nothing was wrong. Like the world wasn't falling into disarray. Was she the only one who had the feelings?

  Someone's watching you.

  She swung her head around, looking for anything out of the ordinary. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She looked for the person who was watching her, but no one met her eye. No one even seemed to notice her. She looked back down to her basket and added a few bags of Doritos and a bottle of Dr Pepper. The feeling persisted.

  Someone's watching you.

  The wire basket shook in her hands; was the lady at the checkout watching her? She was, but that wasn't why she had the feeling. There was someone else, someone who didn't just suspect her of shoplifting. Someone who knew what she was. She could tell. But what was she? That she wasn't so sure of. All she knew was that she was different from all these people.

  Someone's watching you!

  The feeling shouted at her, screaming at her to run, to get away. But she couldn't be suspicious. She would have to be smart about getting away. If only she knew who it was! There weren't many people in the store. A lady with a baby, and old man buying Viagra, a teenage boy flipping through magazines and a frumpy woman with an armload of junk food.

  She stopped near the checkout counter, setting her basket down at her feet and leaning over as if to tie her shoe. A part of her thought that her mother would grab the basket from beside her and take off, clearing her of any suspicion as she chased after her. They would toss the basket back and forth, avoid the security and the police and rendezvous back at their cheap hotel room downtown. But in her heart she knew that her mother wasn't coming; her mother was dead, like the rest of them.

  Then, with a flash of flesh and dirty jeans, the basket disappeared from her side with the accompanying sound of clambering footsteps. She looked up as her heart went a flutter. "Mom…?" She croaked. But it wasn't her mother. It was a real thief, the boy who had been reading the magazines. Was he the one who had been watching her? The feelings had shifted. Now it was wailing at her:

  Run! Chase him! Go!

  She didn't waste any time as she sprung to her feet and sprinted after the boy. Her legs and lungs were strong from frequent feats such as this, so she kept sight of him easily. He made sharp and sudden turns, as if trying to lose her, but she still followed. He never looked back, but he never stopped running, and he never slowed. They cut in and out of buildings, knocking over shoppers, jumping over baby carriages and dodging little old ladies with walkers and canes. At one point the boy actually sprinted through a busy intersection, sliding over the hoods of cars to escape being hit. She followed him easily, climbing over cars if need be to catch up with him.

  They had reached the part of downtown that was practically abandoned, with the streets littered with homeless and druggies. She didn't care; she'd been spending a lot of time there recently. She followed the boy into an old warehouse, in the process of being torn down. It was there that she lost him, if only for a moment. She stepped into the darkened building and searched for him frantically.

  You have to find him! You must!

  Then she heard the clatter of footsteps to her right and was off in a flash in their direction. She caught a fleeting sight of him as he climbed the rickety old steps. A few stairs were missing but she jumped them easily. They had climbed up nearly eight flights of stairs before they stopped. The boy stumbled onto the empty floor, gasping to catch his breath. She came up behind him and stopped as well. It
was like they'd had some kind of understanding. Neither one would run anymore, they were both too tired. The feelings were silent.

  The boy dropped the basket and turned to face her. He was tall and lanky, but surprisingly fast considering how thin he was. She could tell that it was not only his build but also that he was malnourished. He was probably some street brat, like her. His hair was long and greasy, dark brown and stringy. He had a sharp, hawk-like nose and large brown eyes. His chin was overgrown with the beginnings of a beard, a result of not shaving for several days. She herself had not shaved in weeks.

  His jeans were torn up at the knees, and his black T-shirt was ripped at the hem and under the right arm. Everything was stained with dirt, and his formerly white shoes were blackened with dried mud. There was a hole in one toe, and a hole in the dirty sock underneath, and the big toe that was revealed was starting to blister.

  She spoke first. "Who are you?"

  He paused as he stared at her, leaning over on his knees while he caught his breath. "I'm like you," He said finally, breathless even still.

  "What do you mean?" Like her, how was it possible? How could he know…did he have the dreams too? The feelings?

  "You know what I mean," He answered enigmatically.

  She decided to try a different approach. "Why did you take my things?"

  He shrugged, "I figured you were going to try to steal them. I thought you might appreciate some help. You looked rather nervous and these things always work better in pairs, don't you think?"

  She nodded slowly, still unsure of what to make of the boy. The feelings were quiet, so she was on her own. He met her gaze easily and stared, as if trying to decide the same thing about her.

  "You are one of the Chosen, aren't you?" He continued. "I could feel it on you as soon as you walked in. But it's simpler than that. Your eyes give you away. Only the Chosen look like that, the perpetual look of a deer caught in the headlights."

  "You're talking about the feelings." She said softly, looking down at her feet.

  "Is that what you call them?"

  She nodded again, "And the dreams." She whispered. The feelings always told her to keep quiet about the dreams, about being different. And they were so strong that she obeyed them, talking about it only with her mother.

  "Have you seen the end yet?" The boy asked, just as quietly.

  "The what?"

  He looked pained, "Don't worry, you will."

  Chapter Two

  ~*The Hole*~

  "So what's your name, girl?" The boy asked her. She had been following him silently through the labyrinth of streets for almost an hour now. The feelings didn't start up again during that time and she welcomed the quiet they left in their wake. She started at the sudden question, and blushed when she realized that she hadn't even thought of offering her name.

  "It's Tara." She said. He wrinkled his nose. "That's a terrible name for one of the Chosen." He looked at her startled face and sighed. "Do youlike it?"

  No, actually, she never had. But her mother had given it to her and it was starting to hold some sentimental value for her. "Not really," She admitted.

  "Well then, a new name. Something you like."

  "Oh, I don't know." She flushed, "I've never really thought about it."

  "Hmm, it would have to be something really cool, something tough. The Chosen always have to be tough. And it's best to leave your old life behind anyway. It always gets destroyed. The Hunters make sure of that." There was a sharp note of bitterness in his voice.

  "Well, what do you suggest?" She asked.

  He cast his eyes over her, studying her soft auburn hair that fell in supple waves. It was pulled back in a ponytail but a few strands had come loose and hung in her face. Her eyes were often called hazel, but looked more yellow than brown. They were large and almond shaped, slightly slanted with heavy lids. Her lips were small but full and her body was lithe and practically shapeless. She dressed comfortably, black jeans that were developing holes in the knees and a slate coloured tank top under a black sweater with a zipper up the front. Her shoes were still in good shape, they were blue runners, and she carried a backpack decorated with various buttons, patches and key rings.

  She didn't like being studied like that, and she shifted on her feet waiting for him to say something. He grinned suddenly and said, "You're very quiet. You kinda remind me of this old Greek myth. You ever heard the story of Echo?"

  She nodded, "Hera took away her voice because she wouldn't shut up."

  "That's right. I'm a sucker for mythology. And you have a very nice voice when you choose to use it. I'll bet you're a singer."

  She shook her head 'no'. "Only in the shower," She chuckled, as did he.

  "So what do you think?"

  "I like it." And she did. "What do they call you?"

  "Lys."

  "Lice?" She frowned. "Why would they call you that?"

  He laughed. "It's short for 'Lysander'. He's an old legend, a knight or something like that. Nobody's ever heard of him and sometimes I think I may have made it up. Anyway, the other Chosen thought it would be funny since they say I have a knight in shining armour complex; mix that with my love for mythology and it seemed to fit."

  They were walking again, almost as if they had no destination in mind. Maybe they didn't. But then Lys stopped in front of an old apartment building and unlocked the door. "The Hole is down this way," He said, leading her to the stairs and taking them down. Echo didn't even bother to ask what 'The Hole' was. She had a feeling that she would be finding out very soon.

  Lys took her down into the basement level of the apartment building and pulled a key from his front pocket and used it to unlock an apartment labelled '4'. The entire hallway reeked of cat piss so Echo was grateful when the door opened to an astonishingly clean apartment that smelled pleasantly of home cooking and lemon detergent.

  It was a small apartment with a kitchen to the left and a large living room and dining area to the front. Also to the left just past the kitchen she could see a hallway and the open doors to several bedrooms. The floors were yellowed with age with a brown diamond pattern on the tiles. The cupboards were dark wood, oak or something else. The fridge was also old and green, and the stove was an off-white colour, like coffee with too much cream in it. There was a well-used stainless steel pot sitting on the hot element on the stove, and it filled the apartment with the scent of chicken broth and cooked vegetables. Echo had never smelled anything so terrific in her life.

  The floor of the living room was hardwood, also very dark, with the only light coming from a smoke-yellowed lamp in the corner. There was a small TV set with a Game Cube console attached, a dusty fake plant next to it, and an orange couch with holes in it, and patched up with duct tape. The combination of the low light, and orange and brown accents made the entire apartment seem as if it was engulfed in a yellow haze.

  Strewn about the apartment were an odd assortment of people. Echo counted at least eight, excluding herself and Lys. Sitting on the couch were two young Asians of about 13 or 14. The girl had long shoulder length black hair styled in short layers while the other, who was obviously her twin brother, kept his long hair back in a ponytail. Both had elegantly arched eyebrows, astonishing blue eyes, and slender figures. They held two of the three active controllers attached to the Game Cube. Next to them on the floor was a small blonde girl, probably no more than eight years old with wide and innocent baby blue eyes and her blonde hair in dirty but beautiful ringlets.

  Next to the door was a rather fat young man, maybe in his twenties, with short brown hair and dark brown eyes. He sat with a small laptop resting on his oversized thighs. He looked up at them as he entered, but his expression barely changed at all. Echo noticed that he had a nose like the snout of a pig and looked away quickly before her face clearly showed her distaste at the connection.

  An older man who was probably well into his fifties had emerged from one of the bedrooms as they entered. He had a stern look about him
and was still in good shape, given his age. His muscles were still strong and bulged and rippled beneath his skin as he moved. His jaw was square and his eyes were a hard green. His greying hair was cropped short and he, like Lys and the fat man had the look of not being shaved in several days. Echo liked him almost instantly. He seemed like the dependable type who would always take care of you but never admit to it. He probably had woman crawling all over him when he was younger. Perhaps he still did.

  Standing in the kitchen was an attractive pregnant woman with light brown hair in a half ponytail. She rested her hands on her bulging stomach as she spoke with an equally attractive man. The man reminded Echo a lot of Irvine from Final Fantasy 8. He had the same dark brown hair in a ponytail and a tan trench coat slung over his shoulder. Stubble covered his chin, but it didn't take away from his handsome face. Both the pregnant lady, who looked as if she were going to spit out her baby at any moment, and the man looked as if they were in their early to late thirties.

  And finally, stopped directly in front of them was a very attractive and voluptuous blonde who looked to be the young blonde's older sister. She had the same pale blonde hair in curls and wide blue eyes. She wore her hair tied back in a red bandanna and she was dressed casually in jeans and a green hoodie, but you could tell that she probably usually wore tight jeans and halter-tops.

  When they entered all of the people turned to stare at them.

  "Look who I found, guys." Lys said with a smile, "Another Chosen."

  Echo blushed and forced at smile at the people, who were all still looking at her incredulously. "Her name is Echo."

  "Another one that you named?" Asked the attractive blonde with a smirk. She held out her hand to Echo and said "Welcome to the Hole. My name's Aphrodite, Ro for short."

  Echo nervously took her hand and looked up at Lys, "Did you pick that as well?"

  "How'd you guess?" He laughed, "Yeah, I did. It seemed to fit her. And her sister wanted a cool Goddess name as well, so we call her Athena." He pointed at the young blonde girl who was playing some racing game with the twins.