The Riser Saga

by Becca C. Smith

  I acted fast.

  I searched the area for anything dead.

  Aside from dust and a few baby tree branches there was nothing… Except…

  Gross.

  A dead opossum.

  Okay, this was about to get nasty.

  I connected to its black chasm and made it run as fast as it could move its tiny little feet. It came up from behind Isabelle and I puppeteered it to chomp down on her ankle.

  Isabelle’s hold instantly dropped on Max and the others.

  Isabelle tried to kick the opossum off, but I made it attack her to keep her distracted.

  The gunmen caught their breaths and looked terrified.

  I turned to them and to Max, “If you guys want to live, then I suggest you RUN!”

  There were no arguments from the soldiers. They took off at a sprint, some even leaving their guns behind.

  Max turned to me before he ran off himself. “Tell Jill, I’m sorry.” Then he was gone, down the grass road.

  I turned my attention back to Isabelle. She was attempting to use her powers on the opossum, but Isabelle was beginning to realize that her powers didn’t work on dead things.

  I dropped my connection.

  The opossum fell to the grass as dead as a doorknob.

  Isabelle whirled on me in shock and anger. “Who are you?”

  “Why are you here?” Wow. I was impressed with myself. I actually sounded authoritative.

  “I came to talk, but when you looked like you needed help…” She left the thought unfinished.

  “Killing people isn’t helping. And Max was being held ransom in his own body. You almost killed one of the good guys.” I realized she had no idea what I was talking about, but I didn’t care. I was tired of people like her and Elisha and my grandparents who just killed because it was an easy out. It disgusted me.

  “Fair enough.” Isabelle didn’t even seem mad at the rabid attack from the dead opossum. She was way more interested in me and my abilities.

  Just then George, Ryan, Bill and Nancy came running out. George was holding a stun gun, which I assumed was meant for the machine-gun toting thugs. I felt a huge moment of relief that they hadn’t had time to charge out like the cavalry when the men with guns had actually been here. But I knew they couldn’t help themselves either.

  It was hard not to chuckle at the absence of Jason and Jill. I appreciated their need to self-preserve. And I definitely didn’t hold it against them.

  When I turned back to Isabelle to introduce her to the others, she was gone.

  Typical.

  “I’m all right, guys. That girl Isabelle made them leave,” I informed them.

  Ryan ran over to me and held me. I fell into him.

  George looked over at the opossum. “Your work?” he asked with a wave over his nose.

  The little critter was kind of ripe.

  “I’ll take care of it.” I connected to the opossum’s swirling hole and made him run back into the trees, dig a hole, and bury himself in it. I should start a business. No one would ever have to bury their own pet ever again.

  Ugh.

  “Come on inside.” George motioned Ryan and I toward the house.

  We all went back in.

  This time I didn’t feel safe.

  I knew at any minute Elisha could return, or Isabelle.

  We needed protection.

  And there was only one person I could ask.

  Turner.

  My stomach turned at the thought.

  Never in a trillion years did I imagine a world where I’d rely this heavily on the monster that nearly destroyed my life. I wanted nothing to do with him. But I couldn’t use dead people to guard us, Elisha could just take them over and use them against us. I had to assume that she was better at using our abilities than I was. She wouldn’t use Max as a shield anymore, though. She’d be coming herself next time.

  I tried to imagine what Elisha looked like as an adult. Pretty stunning, I’d guess. Elisha and her purple eyes! Seriously! Purple. She was a gorgeous child, why wouldn’t she be a gorgeous woman? Although… maybe she was awkward looking and that’s why she used Eva and Max to do her dirty work. Yeah, right. She used them like she used everyone else. Elisha never wanted to get her hands dirty. And why should she when she could make others do it for her?

  Jill came running up to me. “Is that freak still in my head? Can you get him out?”

  “It was Elisha, not Max that took over your brain. He wanted me to tell you he was sorry.” Seeing Max struggle to gain control over his own body made me feel for the guy. Elisha had tried similar tactics on me, though more subtle. She’d planted herself in my mind and made me make stupid decisions. Mainly decisions that involved helping her. Just a nudge here and there, but by the time Roberta taught me how to block out Elisha, I had felt like a total idiot. I vowed never to let anyone in my head again without my permission.

  Jill seemed slightly placated by this information, but she still looked upset. “Well…” she paused as if not quite sure what her next sentence would be, then she surprised us all when she said, “Is Max okay?”

  Jill really cared about Max.

  And it was obvious that Max really cared about Jill.

  I’d be happy for them both, if my life was NORMAL!

  “Chelsan, Elisha won’t kill him, will she?”

  “I honestly don’t know, Jill.” And I didn’t. If Elisha felt that Max was no longer useful to her, then yes, she’d kill him in a heartbeat. She had killed her father and sister without blinking an eye. I just hoped that she needed Max for her plans. Whether he went through with the plans or not was an entirely different subject.

  One step at a time.

  “We should help him, like you helped me,” Jill said in such a vulnerable voice I nearly choked.

  Even Nancy looked moved. She walked over to Jill and placed her hand on her shoulder, “We will.”

  The events of the last twenty minutes were apparently too much for Jill. She folded into Nancy and hugged her for dear life. We could all hear her quiet sobs.

  I wasn’t sure how to react. With Jill it was hard to say.

  I’m nice, she’s mad at me; I’m nonchalant, she’s mad at me.

  Either way, the girl always seemed to be mad at me.

  I knew that wasn’t fair.

  So I tried the nice tactic, “I’ll make sure we’re all safe. I promise.” I didn’t say how I was going to do that since I knew that Jill would have a fit if she found out I planned on using Gramps. Jill still wanted to kill Turner. Gramps was responsible for murdering Jill’s dad and keeping him his puppet for years. Why did I want his help again?

  Jill pulled away from Nancy and wiped her eyes. With each wipe, Jill’s face became more and more closed off. “Good. You owe us.”

  Yup.

  Good old Jill.

  But I completely agreed. I did owe all of them. And then some.

  “Let’s have dinner,” Vianne announced to break up any tension.

  That sounded amazing. Getting lost in one of Vianne’s amazing meals was the perfect idea. I could already smell the sizzling of some kind of meat, and it made my mouth water. It turned out to be burgers when we all sat down at the dining table in the kitchen. Yum.

  Considering everything that had happened today, everyone seemed fairly relaxed. Nancy managed to steer the conversation back to prom and even Jill had a few suggestions, forgetting that earlier she had berated Nancy for even bringing up the dance. After everything was consumed we all helped Vianne with the dishes, then Jill, Bill and Jason said their goodnights, promised their undying devotion (well, Bill did at least) and left.

  It was still early evening. George, Vianne, Nancy, Ryan and I plopped in front of the holo-TV and decided to fry our brains on some new drama series that everyone was talking about.

  “I’m going to get into my jam jams,” I announced, thinking how utterly comfy I wanted to be in that moment.

  I hurried off the couch and heade
d toward my room with a slight skip to my step.

  Even though Eva’s statement today on the news might be calling unwanted attention to me, I was feeling a little more positive about things to come. Call me crazy. Okay, yes, I was completely insane. But denial is a great place to be sometimes, especially when it’s my life.

  I walked into my room and pulled down a sweater from the closet.

  “We didn’t get to finish our conversation.”

  I turned around to see Isabelle stepping out from behind the door. She closed it gently.

  I couldn’t decide if I should scream for help or not. I figured it wouldn’t do much good since she could squeeze my heart into oblivion before I could even try.

  Why hadn’t I thought she’d do this?

  Oh yeah, denial-land. I should really stop visiting there so often.

  But honestly, she didn’t look angry or upset. She didn’t even look assassiny like she usually did. Isabelle just looked curious.

  “Did Turner make you too?” she asked.

  Make me? Turner? Yikes. What did he do to this girl?

  “Um, no.” Good one. Always the intelligent speaker. “I mean, what do you mean by make?”

  Isabelle sat down on the rocking chair near the window. She looked casual, but I could tell in about two seconds she could fly out that window if need be. This girl knew her exits.

  I decided to play along and sat across from her on my bed.

  “You don’t seem power hungry,” Isabelle observed.

  “Thanks?” She was trying to make connections between Turner and I.

  Isabelle crossed her arms, eyeing my every move.

  “How old are you?” I asked. I wanted to know exactly how long she knew Gramps.

  “Three-hundred and six.”

  Gulp.

  If I did my math correctly (which was always iffy) Isabelle would have been five when Age-pro was invented and Turner fifty.

  Isabelle continued, “Turner experimented on my mother when she was pregnant with me, hence, my powers.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I mean I was glad she was, but having a confession-fest didn’t exactly seem like her cup of tea.

  “I’m not telling you anything you couldn’t find out on your own. I just need to gauge my enemy before I go into battle,” Isabelle said it so intensely that I clutched my heart instinctively.

  “I’m not your enemy,” I sputtered out.

  “You’re Turner’s granddaughter and he’s given you some kind of power. I’d say we’re enemies.” Then she kind of smiled. There was no warmth in it, just calculation.

  I switched into dust mode. A million swirling black holes up the nose and into the lungs was becoming a good line of defense. The only problem was that it made it hard to see clearly through the ever-shifting black fog. Better safe than sorry though. The last thing I needed was heart-stop girl to, well... stop my heart!

  “Listen.” I was actually starting to get annoyed with Isabelle. “You can sit in that rocking chair and make all the threats you like, but it still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know who you are or what you want from me.”

  Isabelle’s nostrils flared and oh crap…

  My heart squeezed.

  Ouch.

  It freakin’ hurt.

  Okay dust, do your thing.

  I connected to the millions and millions of dead flakey skin and slammed it up her nose and into her lungs.

  My heart instantly went back to beating strong and normal as Isabelle gasped for air and fell to her knees choking uncontrollably.

  Is it bad that I kind of enjoyed watching her sputter and cough? She was so darn cocky and she abused her power, using it to kill people. KILL people. What did I do? Make them choke? Okay, it was still an abuse of power, but my heart was still recovering, so sue me.

  I pulled out the dust from Isabelle, but kept it ready if she decided to attack me again.

  It took a few moments for Isabelle to gain her bearings. Then she looked up at me with shock and… what was that? Admiration. Isabelle was seriously impressed by my powers. She put her hands up in supplication.

  “Truce?” she grinned.

  Why was she grinning? It was creepy and annoying. I almost slammed the dust down her throat to teach her a lesson. But of course, I didn’t.

  “I never planned on hurting you,” I accused. I was more angry than I thought.

  “I didn’t think you could anyway, so we’re even,” Isabelle shrugged and stood up.

  Even? See? Arrogant jerk!

  “What do you want?” I crossed my arms in anger. “You know what? I don’t give a crap what you want! I’m so sick of you and Turner and Elisha. You’re all alike. You guys think you’re so different, but you’re just as bad as he is, look in a freakin’ mirror!” I was really raging now.

  “I’m nothing like him,” Isabelle said, angry herself.

  “You’re exactly like him,” I countered defiantly. I was really letting my anger run wild in the last couple of days. I was tired of being the “calm one,” the “sensible one,” the “mature one.” I wanted to be the “honest-angry-annoyed-one” in that moment.

  Isabelle looked like she was going to use her powers on me, but then thought better of it. She sighed with exasperation. “If you hate Turner so much, why do you work for him?”

  “It’s complicated. Five months ago I would have laughed at you for even suggesting that I’d speak to the guy, but my grandparents saved the lives of my friends who are my family, and that’s not something I can just walk away from. But I want to. I want to walk away from them and never look back. They killed my mother. She was the most important person in the world to me. I loved her more than myself. I’ll never forgive them for that. But I need them to keep my family safe. And I’m willing to suck up and do anything to make sure that they are. Anything.” I realized I had just rambled to someone who probably didn’t give a flying rip what I said, but once I started I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  “Safe from whom? Turner is the only threat to this world.” Isabelle looked genuinely at a loss. I think she believed that Turner was responsible for all of Elisha’s mayhem. Don’t get me wrong: Turner was responsible for a lot of mayhem, but he didn’t deserve the credit for psycho-girl’s crimes.

  I took a deep breath and decided to tell Isabelle everything that had happened to me since my mother’s death. She sat there patiently and attentively. I could tell she was taking in every word I said with extreme interest. And there it was again… admiration. This crazy assassin girl actually admired me.

  Isabelle sat on the rocking chair, staring at me as if trying to figure out what she was going to say next. After a moment she said, “We can protect you. You don’t need Turner.”

  We?

  “We?” I decided to just ask it.

  “I can’t tell you everything, but I worked with Turner for over a hundred years. He was like a father to me, but he betrayed us,” Isabelle paused.

  “Us?” I asked, wondering if this was the guy Turner had been referring to when he and Isabelle had their earlier confrontation.

  Isabelle continued, “Me and his best friend, another General like Turner, Harry Clifton. We faked our deaths to escape. Until today we believed Turner thought we were dead. I’m still furious with myself that I gave him proof of life. He’ll try and bring us back into the fold, or kill us. Turner’s always been that way. Black or white.”

  General? I had no idea Gramps was in the military. To be honest I never bothered to find out as much about him as I should have. Jason must have known that about that part of Turner’s past, but apparently he didn’t think it was important enough to tell me. I made a mental note to find out as much as I could about Gramps, this Harry guy and Isabelle.

  “He’s gotten softer,” I suddenly accused Gramps. But it was true. When he killed my mother, it was black and white for him. He thought she was responsible for his only son’s death, so he killed her and tried to kill me as well. Simple for hi
m. When I was being stubborn and just wouldn’t die, instead of reevaluating and possibly trying to… I don’t know… STOP… instead he was relentless. It wasn’t until I was attacking Roberta with a hive of dead bees (trust me, she deserved it) that he begged for me to stop. When I did, it began a weird kind of truce. Roberta was a little reluctant to come on board the not-kill-Chelsan-train, but once she did, she completely 180-degree flipped about how she felt about me. Even though she was a psychopath I genuinely believed Roberta loved me in her own warped way. I was her last link to her son, my father, Franklin.

  “Somehow I doubt that.” Isabelle wasn’t hearing it. She stood up and headed for the window. “I’m leaving, but think about what I offered. Harry and I can protect you. I’ve been alive a long time and I can see you’re exactly who you say you are. I know why Turner and Roberta want to protect you, and it’s not just because you’re their granddaughter. There’s something very special about you, Chelsan Derée, and when you’ve been around as long as we have… Well, let’s just say it’s been a long time since I’ve met anyone as honest as you.”

  Isabelle was halfway through the window when she popped her head back in the room. “Be careful of that Max character. I know you said Elisha hijacked his body, but he’s been standing outside your house watching you every night. You trust too easily.” Then was gone.

  I wasn’t sure which part of that last statement I should be more freaked out about: the fact that Max was stalking my house, or the fact that Isabelle knew about it, or the casual way she mentioned Elisha’s name, like she knew about Elisha before hearing my story. It meant that Isabelle was interested and watching me way before today.

  Or she’d been watching Max…

  I knew I’d have to take everything Isabelle said with a grain of salt. Once I put the team (and by team I meant Jason) on the task of researching these new players, I felt that I’d have a better understanding of who Isabelle was.

  The rest of the evening was uneventful aside from the initial craze when I told them I’d just had a heart to heart with a three hundred year old assassin. We all agreed not to do anything until the next morning when we could assemble the whole gang. Ryan decided to stay the night and George and Vianne had no arguments. They seemed to sense that I needed someone near me. And let’s face it; if it hadn’t been Ryan, Nancy and I would have been having a slumber party because I did not want to be alone.