Talent

by Annie B Matthews

  Despair ran like ice through her veins.

  “What do you want?”

  Her voice sounded strong and she was glad of it.

  Maria smiled coldly. “I want my faithless ex-husband to pay for taking my son. I want that meddling red headed witch to pay for taking my son. She’ll understand the loss soon enough.”

  “Jackson won’t come here,” Libby countered. “Not alone. You won’t reach him.”

  Maria laughed, throwing her head back.

  “I don’t need him as long as I have you, darling niece.” She cocked her head. “How is Francis, by the way?”

  “She’s very well,” Libby replied through gritted teeth. “Thank you for asking.”

  Maria’s eyes narrowed at her sarcastic tone.

  She turned abruptly. “Tie them up over there.”

  The man grabbed them both by the arms, forcing them over to one of the upright posts that reached to the roof. He handcuffed them back to back, the post between them.

  “Horror or western?” Tom muttered under his breath as their captors left the barn together. “I just can’t place this one.”

  Metal bit into her wrists as she struggled. “How can you joke?”

  “How can I not?” He hissed out a breath before going still. “There’s no getting out of this one, then.”

  Libby tipped her head back against the post. She could see the blue sky through that hole in the roof and she focused on it, steadying her breathing. She needed a distraction.

  “So, tell me about chess.”

  There was a pause. “Seriously?”

  “Well, it’s either that or I’m going into a complete meltdown.”

  “Right.” He stopped, took a breath. “Well, there are five of us. Which at first was a problem as someone was sitting out. Now it's turned out well, as we have a couple of really strong players and we actually need a referee. This girl Laura? She totally lost it one practice, accusing me of cheating.”

  “Were you?”

  He laughed a bit. “No. I'm just better than she is and she hates it.”

  She nodded, swallowed. Concentrated on her breathing.

  “And?”

  “I win every time and she loathes me.” Tom was smiling and she felt his smugness. “So the referee is a necessity.”

  “Sounds like.”

  There was a long silence and she knew that he was as close to panic as she was herself. He didn’t have a great deal of hope that they’d get out of this alive. Trying not to freak out, she concentrated on that patch of sky. Her breathing steadied.

  “Jackson will be so angry.” she commented after a moment. “I promised I wouldn't go off alone. That guy must've been waiting for his chance and I walked right into him. Backwards.”

  “It’s not your fault, Libby.”

  She didn’t reply to that. How could she? If it wasn’t for her, Tom wouldn’t be here.

  “So, can’t you do your mojo?” Tom asked after a moment, shifting uncomfortably on the concrete floor.

  Libby closed her eyes, focused on Jackson. Where was he? Where was he? She had this great talent, or so he kept telling her. So where the hell was he?

  Paul had taught her about concentrating, almost meditating. How the hell she was supposed to meditate when cuffed to a post in an abandoned barn she had no idea.

  Still, she could try.

  “Libby?”

  “I’m trying.”

  There was nothing. Just her own fear and frustration and Tom’s anxiety crashing against her in waves.

  “Calm it down, Tom. You're distracting me.”

  “Sure, no problem,” he relied sarcastically.

  Still, she noted that he relaxed a little. Calmed. She pushed his emotions to one side.

  “Come on, Jack,” she muttered. “Where are you?”

  There was nothing, for the longest time. Then she felt him. It was faint, but he was there. Triumphant, she bore down and focused everything she had on the connection. She pictured the barn in her mind, the surrounding fields. The van, their captor. Maria. All the information she had. She only hoped Jackson was getting it.

  She felt it; his shocked relief. His surge of hope.

  Libby held it close. Hurry.

  The slam of the doors startled her, but she didn’t lose the connection. It seemed less fragile now, growing in strength the longer she forged it.

  Maria strode in, an air of confidence and satisfaction pounding off her.

  “Well, you may as well get comfortable, kids. Your connection with Jack will be weak, but he’ll know it as soon as you’re dead. I’d like him to hope for a little bit longer. He’ll search for you, they all will. They’ll all hope that they'll find you. It will make your death so much more shocking. Almost unexpected.” She grinned as she leaned down, stroked Libby’s curls back from her face, and enjoyed her shudder. “It’ll destroy Jackson, for sure. And most likely the rest of them.” She stepped back, pleased with herself. “Perfect, don’t you think?”

  Neither Libby nor Tom replied to that, but she didn’t seem fazed.

  “Unfortunately there’s no dinner service.” She sighed a little theatrically. “Oh well. Rest while you can, darling. I’ll be back at dawn.”

  “They will find us.”

  Maria paused at Libby's words, turning back slowly.

  “There's a slim chance, I suppose. But even if they did, what good would it do you?” She stalked closer, her eyes flashing with hatred. “You, torn between two soulmates, dying inside because you don't know, and you'll never know, which one is real. Did I forge your connection with Jackson? Or with Lucas?”

  Her smile grew, cold and fierce. “You'll die, never knowing.”

  Libby fought to keep her expression neutral, watching as her aunt stalked from the dilapidated building.

  She did know.

  Perhaps if her talent weren't as strong it would've been harder to tell. Her connection with Jackson was vibrant, almost visible in its intensity since the night he shared that horrific experience. The mild pull of curiosity she felt when Lucas was present was nothing in comparison.

  Regardless, Maria intended her to die here, Tom as well. Her stomach roiled and she had to steel herself against the rising nausea.

  The doors closed. An engine roared to life.

  They were alone.

  “Well, she's a fruit loop alright. Perfect.” Tom muttered in disgust. “Bloody perfect.”

  “They’ll find us,” Libby replied confidently.

  She felt his leap of hope. “The mojo worked?”

  “Yep.” She tried to ignore the bite of the cuffs on her wrists, the seep of the cold floor through her skirt. “It’s still working.”

  “Okay. Okay then.” Tom shifted behind her. “In the meantime, we’re here for the night with no sign of dinner. Can you order in with that talent of yours?”

  “Ho ho ho,” she retorted sarcastically. “You know, I had no idea you’d be so humorous in a life or death situation.”

  Tom laughed. “You’d prefer me weeping and lamenting the life I should have, but might soon lose?”

  Chilled, Libby paused. Cleared her throat. “Do we need to talk about that?”

  His sigh was answer enough.

  “Can you check in with anyone other than Jack?”

  She shrugged. The pole was rough and she could feel the splinters through her shirt. She felt a surge in Jack’s fury in response to her discomfort. You and me both, pal.

  “I’ve never tried. It's only recently I've been able to connect with Jack, and never before at this distance.”

  “Well, now’s a good a time as any,” Tom responded wryly. “And every bit helps. And while you’re saving us with your weirdo mind tricks, what can I do?”

  “Be quiet.”

  He huffed out a laugh. “Right.”

  She focused on Jackson. The connection was fairly constant now, but she couldn’t hear his thoughts. If she could do that…well, it would be amazing. This was his talent though, a
nd she wasn't sure she could use it for herself to that degree.

  Libby had no idea how long she tried for. She hardly felt the numbness in her wrists, the cold of the floor as the sun set and darkness crept in. She was hardly aware of Tom at all. It felt as though she was pushing her mind through thick syrup, her progress painfully slow. Then, eventually, she heard him.

  …come on, come on. How hard can it be to find?

  Jack!

  Her heart leaped as she felt his pause, the frantic beat of his heart. Libby, tell me you can hear me.

  I can hear you! Are you close?

  The pause was longer this time and she felt his frustration, his shame. No. I’m at the house. Paul is tracking from here, but it’s slow progress. Are you okay?

  She laughed a little. I’m handcuffed to a post. It could be worse. She wants you to get close. She wants to destroy you.

  Yeah, we knew this. Libby…

  I’m sorry. I should have left the damn books and gone to class. Now Tom’s been dragged into this-

  It’s not your fault. There's nothing we can do now in any case. Are you alone?

  Maria and her goon left a while ago. Tom thought…I wondered, could I link in with Paul? Or mum?

  The silence stretched and she knew he was asking around. She waited. God, it was cold.

  It’s rare. You borrow my talent, but that’s a connection between talents so…mum just said it has been heard of. More folklore than fact.

  She got the impression it was more than a long shot. Right. What have you told Tom’s parents?

  Tom’s worry for his parents were tangible.

  They think that he’s staying over here for a party.

  She choked.

  “Libby?”

  Reaching back, she found Tom’s hand and squeezed. “It’s Jack. Your parents think there’s a party at Jack’s house and you’re staying over.”

  “Ha. If only that were true,” he replied wistfully.

  Libby. Jack sounded frustrated. I can’t believe this. I can’t bear the thought of you out there-

  Don’t. I love you.

  You sound like you’re signing out. Jesus, Libby.

  Look, Maria is confident you won’t find us by morning. If you don’t…don’t beat yourself up over it. Tell mum and dad-

  Fuck that, Libby. Don’t go all farewell on me.

  Libby bit her lip, shook her head to stop the tears. Sure. You’re right. I’m going to try linking into Paul, or your mum. I figure the strongest talents are the best to target.

  Be careful.

  He was worried she’d tire herself out, that she might need her energy to deal with Maria in the morning. She shook her head in frustration. If it got to morning, there would be nothing she’d need.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  “All okay back at the ranch?” Tom sounded weary. Hopeless.

  She shrugged. “I guess. They’re doing what they can. I feel so helpless. And uncomfortable.”

  “Do you want to stand for a bit?”

  “Sure.”

  They stood in unison, moving slowly to avoid yanking each other’s wrists.

  “You know, you couldn’t make this stuff up,” Tom said eventually. “This must have been a wild ride for you.”

  “Yeah, something like that.” She worried about Jack, about how he would cope if they weren’t found in time. She’d been optimistic at first, but Maria’s assured attitude had made her falter. If it was going to be that easy, she would never have left them here unguarded.

  As if reading her thoughts, Tom spoke quietly. “Maria seemed pretty confident that we wouldn’t be found by morning. It annoys the hell out of me. I’ve lived in Beauton all my life, yet I’ve never seen this place.”

  “Someone will have,” she replied, aiming for a reassuring tone.

  “But no one knows where we are. How long will it take them to locate all the barns in a 40-minute radius of school?”

  Too long, Libby thought morosely, especially in the dark. “There must be something we can do. Is nothing in here within reach?”

  “No. There’s a stick to my right, but it’s too far away.”

  “And you can’t pick locks?”

  “No,” he replied dryly. “Besides, we’d need a hair pin for that trick.”

  She frowned, then started. “I have a safety pin. Crap, why didn’t I think of this before?”

  In excitement she grabbed Tom’s hand, yanked it to her waist.

  “Ow! Steady on Libby.”

  She ignored his protest. “It’s at the back of my skirt. I lost the button.”

  As her words got through to him, he started feeling around her waist. “Please don’t tell Jack I’m standing here feeling up his girl.”

  She laughed, the sound more like a sob. “I won’t. Or maybe I will, if you don’t get the blasted pin out.”

  “Got it. Hold still.”

  It took ages. Her wrists twisted painfully as Tom’s hands manipulated the pin. She wished they’d been cuffed separately.

  “Couldn’t you have chosen a bigger one? Shit, it’s fiddly.”

  She bit her lip, waited.

  “Got it.”

  Relief had her sagging back against the post. “Okay. Now what?”

  “Now I stick the pin into the lock and wiggle it about.” He muttered. “Which I suspect will be less effective in real life than it is in the movies. Let’s sit.”

  They lowered themselves back down.

  “Talk to me,” Tom said after a moment. “I need you to break the tension.”

  She shook her head in disbelief. Was he serious?

  “Tom, we’ve been kidnapped and have a deadline to get out of here in one piece. How the hell do you expect me to break the tension?”

  “There must be some interesting gossip I don’t know.” He hissed, cursed under his breath.

  Her wrist was jerked backward as Tom tried to get a good angle to pick the lock and she bit her lip to stop herself crying out.

  “It looks like I won’t be able to go to my dream university,” she said at last. “Jack and I can’t really be apart, so there has to be a course for us both at the same uni. I had already chosen. I chose two years ago. I had my heart set on it.”

  It still stung.

  “I guarantee that when we get out of here, you won’t give a shit which uni you’re going to.”

  He had a point.

  “It’s just that I worry about how much we will have to compromise to be together. I mean, we have dreams. Now we have each other. What if that means that our dreams can’t or don’t happen? I never wanted that kind of relationship. I'm ambitious. I always have been and I can't just switch that off.”

  He didn’t answer and she could tell he wasn’t really listening.

  “I sound like an ungrateful cow, don’t I?” She pulled a face. “There are some good universities on the list I drew up, but he didn’t even look at it. Why is that?”

  “He’s a guy. Plus, you're applying together, right? It’s a year away.”

  Libby rolled her eyes. “Right. Guy don’t plan, is that what you’re telling me?”

  “I’ve planned as far ahead as next week.” He paused from his task for a moment.

  “Any luck?”

  “No. Why don't you check back in with Jackson? See what pizza is left.”

  Her stomach rumbled. “I'd rather not know what they're having for dinner, thanks. I might try connecting with Paul.”

  “I thought you said you couldn't do that?”

  The heat flooding her cheeks was almost welcome. “Well, I'm kind of a strong talent. Jack says I could even be more powerful than Paul. And he's a big deal.”

  Tom huffed out a laugh. “Why does that not surprise me? Well, we're not going anywhere. You might as well give it a go.”

  Closing her eyes, Libby rested a moment, steadied her breathing. A meditative state? It was unlikely she'd manage it, but it was worth trying.

  She pictured the river, Jackson's face. She imagi
ned his eyes, looked into them for eternity before she felt herself falling into pitch black. It felt vast, terrifying. She fought the flutter of panic in her stomach, drew a deep breath.

  Then it was easy to switch her focus, to search for Paul in the darkness. She could feel them all around her. People everywhere but just out of reach, invisible in the black. When she found the first, a glimmer of rose coloured light, she frowned. It wasn't him.

  Libby?

  Mum? The shock of it jolted her. She could sense her mother and hear her? Is that you? Really?

  She felt her mum's tearful laughter, the bloom of joy. How are you doing this?

  No idea. I was trying to connect with Paul; we thought it would help him track us.

  There was a moment of silence, as though her mother was checking in with someone else.

  Sweetie, if you could do that he would find you straight away. Keep trying. Hang on....

  She held on, the connection like a balm.

  Jackson said you're a genius. Paul says, get to work. We love you, Libby. So much.

  Love you too, mum.

  She pulled back into the dark, her heart aching. She could go back, she reassured herself. She could go back anytime, now she knew what to look for.

  As she cast her gaze around, she could see other glimmering lights, some faint, others strong; a variety of colour and shine that had her breathless, awed. So many minds. It was like flying through space, the silence and dark only punctuated by the tiny lights and the faint murmur of thoughts and emotions as she passed by, like a radio tuning in and out. How was she going to find him in this?

  She stopped, breathed, and steadied her panicked heart. Think logically, she told herself. Where are the connections? They were all linked after all.

  Jackson, to Kelly, to Danny, to Paul.

  She found Jack instantly and it was almost impossible to pass him by. She grit her teeth and cast around. She let out a laugh when she saw her friend's light, a fierce and pulsing bright orange. So lively. Then Danny...Danny....fainter, almost hidden. A pure white when she got close. He was such a good person.