by James Somers
Cassie is quite nice. I find myself thinking that more than I should, given our current situation with zombies trying to kill us every other minute. However, she does pleasantly distract me from thinking about how terrible everything has become in London.
Going beyond the new apartment block, we make our way to the power station grounds very quickly and, surprisingly, without further incident. Everything here stands in various phases of construction. The Battersea Power Station has long been an icon here in London, despite not having been in actual use for decades. Not too many years ago, it was decided that the property and property surrounding it would be renovated in order to create a new community.
The apartment complex we passed is only one of many that was planned to surround the power station proper. They were meant to be upscale and the units sold quickly before the building foundations were even laid to the ground. They aren’t the sort of flats my family ever could have afforded. Then again, my guess is real estate in this neighborhood just got a whole lot cheaper. Zombies on the lawn tend to diminish property values.
Battersea had been open to air for years, but construction crews had already enclosed the place and begun to create the ultimate shopping and dining experience inside. The quad stacks were left in place, but rebuilt brick by brick. It would look very much the same from a distance, yet be completely new in every other way.
Certain well known characteristics, like the cranes and the famous power station control room, were left in place to become part of the nostalgia. What other place would allow its patrons to dine in a power station control room complete with old fashioned dials, meters and blinky lights on archaic control boards? Parks and recreation were intended to round out the whole community-in-a-box feel—at least until this plague ruined everyone’s plans for the future.
I lead our dynamic duo across the wide expanse of leveled, bare earth, dodging out of sight here and there behind large earth movers. Sweeping my MP5K ahead of us, I set off from a bulldozer scoop toward the main building with Cassie on my heels. Steam stacks tower impossibly high over us at this end, but there doesn’t appear to be a zombie presence here at the moment. I can only guess that there wouldn’t be many here since this place is still under construction—nobody here to infect or eat.
Since the building is now a closed venue, rather than the shell it once was, a locked security door keeps vagrants out. Hopefully, since the door doesn’t appear to have been tampered with, this means we won’t have to worry about zombies inside either. What a relief that would be.
Trying the handle, I find it locked and realize a problem. If I force the door, then others will also be able to get in—zombies would even wander in because my efforts will destroy the knob and everything keeping the door closed. However, before I can voice my concern, Cassie lays a hand on mine, pulling me from the handle.
“Why don’t you let me take care of this?” she says, grinning.
Immediately, I hesitate. Perhaps, she does have the strength to pull it open, but that still leaves us with a compromised building and having to guard the door to keep zombies out.
“I didn’t want to ruin the door,” I whisper, despite not seeing any of the infected close by.
“Oh, I won’t ruin it,” Cassie informs me.
She lays her fingers on the handle and I hear tumblers click out of position in the lock. Cassie turns the handle and opens the door. She holds it open for me, smiling.
“I would say, age before beauty,” I offer, “but you’re both older and beautiful.”
“Not much older?” she says, making it a question.
“I’m almost sixteen,” I reply.
“Like I thought,” she says. “I’m still sixteen.”
I grab the door from her, grinning. “How about ladies first?”
She accepts my chivalrous gesture and goes inside. I follow, closing the door behind me.
“Since the door was locked, Garth and Holly must not be here yet,” Cassie observes.
“I’ll leave the door unlocked. Zombies won’t bother with the handle. At least, I don’t think they will.”
She nods, and we set off in the half light of a grand space already containing several levels. The roof contains a number of skylights that allow ample sunlight into the building. However, while the outer walls and roof are in place, the inside of the power station is still only rough construction. Some of the new walls have been completed to unfinished sheet rock, while most others are still metal framing and electrical cable that runs to various places where future light fixtures might reside.
“They were really going to do something with this old place,” Cassie says, looking around.
I walk past her, keeping my gun at the ready. I’m not ignoring her. I just don’t want to be surprised in this place. It’s probably empty, but it’s best to be sure. All my surprises recently have been very bad things, so I’m kind of over them at this point. I’m tired of feeling one step behind, carried along like a paper boat on the ocean. I want to be in control of what happens, whether it is with Russian agents, or zombies, or whatever.
I make a sweep of this floor, or at least as much as I can with the available sunlight. I could go traipsing off into the dark shadowy areas, but that might not be wise. Besides, I’m also trying to keep Cassie within eyeshot.
“I don’t see anyone,” I report, making my way back to her. “Are you hungry?”
Cassie brightens at the question. “Is there something to eat in a place like this?”
I remove my backpack, setting it on the ground while I undo the zipper. “I brought a few items with me from the Sainsbury,” I say, producing an apple and some assorted snack items.
“Brilliant,” she says.
I smile. “Take your pick. You have to be starving.”
Cassie picks up a bag of crisps, opening them and digging right in. “These are so good,” she says after a moment, eating a handful.
“You like those?”
“Not really,” she says, but when you go without food for a while, it doesn’t matter.”
I nod, picking up the apple and taking a big bite. After a moment of sitting and working our way through some of the food, my curiosity gets the better of me.
“So, are you going to tell me how you managed to unlock that door back there?”
Cassie grins, trying to chew a mouthful of crisps. She swallows and says, “You aren’t the only peculiar one in our group. There’s a reason why Garth and I were living in Sector Four and working with Dr. Albert.”
“I figured that,” I reply. “I’ve seen some of Garth’s talents already. I’m just not certain what you can do. It’s not a secret is it?”
Cassie shakes her head. “No, not a secret. It’s just that Garth is a lot more confident with his special abilities than I am.”
I smile, patting my chest. “Look, you’re dealing with a novice here. I couldn’t be critical about anybody else if I tried. I didn’t even know I had anything special about me until two weeks ago.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she says. “There have just been some problems—unintentional problems. People were hurt—killed.”
“Oh. Well, I can understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”
“It’s not that,” she says quickly. “I’m just not used to having people around, other than Garth, whom I can talk to about it.”
“I can understand that,” I say. “I haven’t really had anyone to talk with about things since my grandfather passed away.”
“A grandfather?” she asks. “You knew your parents then?”
“Not exactly,” I reply, feeling a bit mournful thinking about it.
Cassie’s expression is curious, brows raised while she waits for an explanation.
“Well, my mother died after I was born,” I attempt to explain. “My grandparents raised me to the age of nine, but they were very old and, well, you know.”
“But they were your true family?” Cassie asks.
“Yes, of c
ourse,” I reply unsure about the nature of such a question.
“Were they human?” Cassie asks. “I mean to say, did they also have special abilities like you have?”
I bite my lower lip. “No,” I reply. “Not that I ever knew. My grandfather talked to me about many things when I was younger, but never anything like that.”
“You said that your mother died when you were born,” Cassie repeats. “What about your father, Jonathan? Did you know him?”
“No,” I confess. “My grandparents didn’t even know who he was. They said that my mother actually disappeared for many years when she was young. She arrived back home rather unexpectedly. They had given up hope of her return long before. When she came back, she was with child—that is with me. My mother never seemed to be able to explain who the man was. My grandfather considered it a great mystery that was never solved.”
Cassie nods, considering what I’ve said.
“Jonathan, have you ever wondered about your father? Have you ever dreamed about him or your mother?”
“Well, sure, I’ve had dreams, but nothing where I could say it was my parents. I sort of knew the people were them. I can actually see my mother’s face. My grandfather said that I could identify her picture before they ever taught me who my mother was. Even in dreams, my father has never been a distinct person with a face I could identify.”
“What kind of dreams?” Cassie asks. “Anything unusual?”
I ponder the question and what snippets of my dreams I can remember. It’s not much. “No,” I report. “I can’t say anything was unusual—nothing that sticks out in my mind now.”
Cassie seems a little disappointed by this. I can’t help but wonder why she’s asking questions like this. “What about you and your parents? Did they willingly allow you to go into the program with Dr. Albert?”
“I never knew my parents,” she says. “I don’t even know enough to say they died, or not. I was raised by the Monroes, an adoptive family—at least, I thought they would be my family.”
“I can relate to that,” I reply. “My foster parents never got over the death of their son. I was just taking up space for awhile until I turn eighteen. They never would commit to adopting me.”
Cassie nods understandingly. “There were problems when I was with the Monroes—after my power began to show up.”
“What sorts of problems?”
“I couldn’t control the outbursts—not tantrums or anything like that—outbursts of power that would move objects in the house, or start fires. Mrs. Monroe began to be terrified of me. I think my reaction to her reaction only made it all worse. I would have night terrors. Objects would crash about in the house. Once, the house nearly burnt.”
A low monotone whistle of awe escapes my lips. “Sounds rough. I never experienced anything like that. I would never want to dream again, if that happened.”
Cassie smiles a little wistfully, glancing at me. “Not all of my dreams were like that,” she says. “Some were of places out of this world, realms of legend and fantasy. I see people I feel that I must know, somehow, even though I’ve never met them.”
“Like who?”
“I sometimes dream of a couple living in a city underground, a king with fiery red hair and a queen with auburn locks,” she says, remembering. “They are distant, but there. Then there is a man with dark hair, younger, and his wife with hair like gold. I see a raven in one and a wolf in the other. These are more distinct.”
I listen, probably looking a little dumbstruck. I’ve never had any dreams like these. I almost begin to wonder if Cassie might be making this all up, but her expression is intense. These dreams mean a great deal to her, even if I don’t understand why.
She glances at me, becoming sheepish suddenly. “I’m sorry, you probably think that sounds silly.”
“No,” I say insistently. “In fact, my dreams are quite dull by comparison. Is there anything else?”
Cassie smiles at me, popping another crisp into her mouth. “There is someone else that I see often in my dreams,” she says, seeming a bit troubled by this part. “He’s a very powerful man, aged, but strong. I can never make out his face, just his walking stick.”
“Walking stick?”
Cassie nods. “Yes, it’s an ebony cane topped with silver in the shape of a lion’s head.”
Approaching Thunder
Heroes face their fears, but they don’t always win—Jonathan Parks
Cassie recounting her dreams touches something deep within me. I have no idea why any of what she said about them should, but there is something mysterious, something connected to me that I feel but can’t explain. Maybe it’s because she didn’t know her parents and I can relate to that. I had my grandparents, but there is still a part of me that’s been missing all these years with the loss of my mother and never knowing anything of my father.
Could my father be the reason why I am the way I am? Perhaps, he possessed the same abilities. Yet, none of that explains why there is no record of him, or why my mother could never relate his identity to my grandparents. He is an enigma, and I have no hope of learning what I would of him.
“I wish I had the kinds of dreams you do,” I confess. “Maybe some of the people you see in your dreams are actually your parents.”
“Having these dreams may be more frustrating than anything else—to see images with no context is maddening,” she says. “Sometimes, I wish I saw nothing at all.”
“Do these people in your dreams ever say anything to you, anything that might give you clues as to their identity?”
“I recall that they spoke, but I never can remember any of the words,” Cassie replies. “See what I mean?”
I grin. “That would be maddening.”
“I know,” she says, popping another crisp into her mouth. “Sometimes, I want to scream just because it’s so frustrating.”
I smile and she smiles in return.
“What about Garth?” I ask. “Does he ever have any of these dreams like you?”
Cassie smiles. “That’s just it,” she says, “Garth has had similar dreams. When I described the couples in my dreams, he recognized my descriptions as being the same for people in his dreams.”
“What about the man with the lion’s head cane?” I ask.
“He never dreamed about him.”
“Strange that he would dream of the others and not him,” I remark, considering.
“Oh, it’s stranger than that,” she says. “Garth claims to have actually seen the man.”
“He saw a man from your dreams?” I ask, astonished. “Where?”
“Only a few months ago,” Cassie says. “Garth was out prowling around Sector Four—training as he calls it. He said that he rounded a corner and found the man there, standing in the dim light. He said it was like the lights had been dimmed, but they won’t dim.”
“Freaky,” I comment.
Cassie leans in a little. She looks like someone telling a ghost story by firelight now. I even feel a chill running up my spine listening to her account.
“Garth tried to speak to the man, but he never replied. He just vanished by walking through a wall.”
“He vanished? Is Garth sure this wasn’t a dream? Maybe, he was hallucinating, seeing things that you described to him.”
Cassie smiles at this. I actually thought she might become defensive when I questioned her story about Garth. She doesn’t.
“That’s just it,” she says, grinning. “I never told Garth about the man with the lion’s head cane before that happened.”
We look at each other for a moment before I reply. “That’s really bizarre. What do you think it means?”
Cassie sighs wistfully. “I wish I knew.”
I finish my apple before asking my next question. “So, your power involves moving things around and starting fires?”
“Something like that,” Cassie says.
“You stopped those zombies coming into the house after us, didn’t you?” I ask, fi
nally connecting the events of our escape.
Cassie nods.
I smile. “That was brilliant—fire and telekinesis!”
Cassie smiles in reply.
“So, that means you can control it now?” I ask.
“Not exactly,” she clarifies. “That was sort of a reaction to the danger. Opening the door—that kind of stuff I can control easily, but the big stuff sometimes happens even when I’m trying to stop it from coming. It builds up inside until I can’t hold it back.”
“Is that how the people died that you mentioned before?”
Cassie nods. “Another doctor working with Dr. Albert,” she explains. “They did things to cause my power to manifest, but, when it came, I couldn’t control it. Dr. Albert’s partner and some of the staff working in the staging area were killed.”
“I’m sorry, Cassie,” I offer.
She becomes angry at herself. “I just wish I could learn to control it. I almost killed Holly the other night, when zombies attacked the restaurant where we were hiding.”
“What happened?”
“Well, I ruined Holly’s car, for one thing,” she says. “If Garth hadn’t taken hold of me and her, right before, Holly would have been killed.”
“I don’t understand,” I admit. “What happened when he grabbed you?”
“Anyone touching me when my power manifests is protected from it like I am,” she explains. “Garth created a link between himself and Holly and me, protecting both of them before it was too late.”
“I guess Garth must have realized what was about to happen.”
“He was there when Dr. McGraff was killed during that experiment,” she explains. “Dr. Albert happened to be holding onto my shoulders, attempting to help me gain control, when the firestorm was unleashed.”
“Whoa.”
“Jonathan,” Cassie says, touching my arm.
“Yes?”
“Don’t forget how to protect yourself, if that ever happens when you’re around,” she warns. “I wouldn’t want you to be hurt.”
