He couldn't wait to get it out on the road. As always, he felt a static burst of excitement and anxiety, even despite their mission. He was going into battle, a war in which there would very likely be casualties. Ryan knew this and still he couldn't deny his eager anticipation to drive.
"So, this is some type of club?" Adam asked.
"I guess you could say that this is kind of a club, yeah," Ryan nodded.
Still in neutral, he depressed the accelerator, only slightly, and the car shook with an unspeakable fury. He could feel the power course through his body, and he laughed in disbelief. What Heather had done to obtain these cars was beyond him, but he knew they needed every ounce of power and speed they could muster. Ryan made a mental note to thank Heather especially for this, once it was over.
He pressed the pedal again, and it roared, and he could feel the power just itching for the road. He always loved this part of the games, the anticipation of speed and insane inertia. This wasn't a game, but he felt that same anticipation all the same. He would miss driving with the Lit Dragons. He would miss the games and the rush of adrenaline and life he felt while playing.
"That was kind of a vague answer," Adam said.
Ryan chuckled and pulled the car out of the airplane hangar. In his mirrors, he saw the other drivers following him as he turned onto an access road that led out of the airport. The night was still and cold, the snow having stopped falling for the moment but leaving a fine dusting of flakes across the road.
"There isn't really a good answer that isn't vague," Ryan said. "But we're a group of people, we hang out and drive cars. Fast. Sometimes the cars are wrecked, sometimes not."
"Okay, so you guys are a club," Adam said. "Do you race?"
"Simplistically, yes," Ryan said as they reached the exit and left the airport. He checked his mirror and counted three sets of headlights trailing behind in the darkness. He continued, "We race against the cars themselves, push them to their limits, even to the point where the car is destroyed. Mostly, we do this in the context of games, a race, yes, but more like capture the flag in cars."
"And you do this, why?"
Ryan smiled as they turned onto an open highway, the empty road stretching out before him. He slowed the car, downshifting to second gear and coasting. To their left, the glowing lights of the city hovered above the buildings. The highway was lined sporadically with lamp posts that cast soft yellow light onto the empty road before them. A few orphaned flakes hesitated in their slow descent to the earth.
"It's beautiful isn't it, the road," Ryan said. In his mirror, he saw the others stopped as well, blocking the highway against other traffic that wasn't there.
"It's pretty, yes. But why are we stopped?"
"There's something about staring at the road before going down it, something about the power of this beautiful machine standing idle, waiting for the explosive chain reaction that begins with the slightest movement of the accelerator."
"Why are we stopped?"
"Everything in front of us is stretched out and untouched, like a canvas to be painted. Look at the way the light plays with the shadows, how the snowflakes look like tiny dancers."
"Yes, it's very pretty," Adam said, looking at Ryan as if he was insane.
"It's beautiful. Haven't you ever destroyed something beautiful? That's what we do. But the beauty is consumed." Ryan's smile was barely there.
"You're a weirdo dude, and I don't even know what that means." Adam rolled his eyes and turned away from him. "I guess I should have determined if you were bat-loco before I flew across the country and got into an anonymous car with you."
Ryan laughed and pulled his phone from his pocket. Adam watched as Ryan chose an app with a snarling dragon depicted on the icon. The dragon appeared on the screen of his phone, red with black spikes and wicked-looking teeth, as the app loaded. It flashed white and a map appeared. Ryan chose the option that allowed the app to use their current location and a black dot appeared on the map, showing their location.
Suddenly, another notification appeared and then two more, each notifying that another team had joined the current game and requesting that Ryan allow communication between the players. As the team leader, he accepted each notification and enabled communication between the players.
A green dot appeared on the map next to the black dot, and then a red and blue dot, all of them clustered together in the same way their cars were clustered on the highway.
"The green dot," Ryan pointed to the dot, "is Sam and Dani. They're in the white car to the left."
Both Ryan and Adam turned to the left and Sam waved, grinning a stupid grin. He mouthed something incomprehensible and burst out laughing. Dani punched him in the arm, but was laughing with an annoyed look on her face.
"Aren't they cute?" Ryan said, turning back to the screen of his phone. "Sam and Dani are Team Green, which is a little confusing because they have a white car, but they chose the color, so... Brooke and John are Team Red, the red dot here. They chose the color that better corresponds with their car."
They were interrupted when Adam's phone sounded with a short ding. Ryan looked over at him, his forehead furrowed.
"Your phone? I thought you didn't have one on you."
"Yeah, guess I forgot about it," Adam said, turning it on but being careful to shield the screen from Ryan's eyes. He typed out a short response and tucked the phone back into his coat pocket.
Ryan studied Adam for a second, then motioned vaguely to the dark red car to their right and a little behind.
"Last but not least is Team Blue. Patrick, the aspiring lawyer, and Todd. They have the blue car and the blue dot. Easy peasy."
Ryan pressed a button on the phone and then pressed a few commands on the display screen in the dashboard, enabling short range communication.
"Everyone there?"
"Roger that," Sam said, his voice loud and clear. "It's a good thing no one is driving tonight, or we'd be in a lick of trouble. Picked a good spot to sync up."
"I like the open road," Ryan shrugged. "Brooke? John?"
"We're here," Brooke said. "Let's get this party on the road!"
"Patrick here. Todd here is a little sore that he can't drive, so we're going to switch it up in an hour or so. Kapeesh?"
"Let's do it," Ryan said, and muted the speakers. He placed his phone on a little stand that stuck out from the dashboard.
"This way, we communicate, we know where everyone is."
"I see that," Adam muttered. "You guys do this on a regular basis."
"More or less." Ryan shifted into first gear and revved the engine before popping the clutch.
"This is some club." Adam shook his head, disbelieving.
"Lit Dragons, man. The best club."
Ryan released the clutch and the car shot forward, roaring into life. He shifted up, the engine never missing a beat, and as they neared and passed sixty miles per hour within seconds, he held the steering wheel tightly, feeling the engine and tires and road become one. He looked over at Adam and saw that he was gripping the door handle tightly, his body pressed against the seat.
A glance in his mirror and he saw the other drivers keeping pace. The road opened up before him, stretching into the distance. The future. Towards Mae.
Chapter Thirty-One
Mae opened her eyes in the thick, warm liquid of the stasis tank and saw only white. It reminded her of the blank slate in her mind before creating the worlds she escaped to. Into the brew of memories and imagination that existed only her in mind.
Just beyond the whiteness of the liquid, she thought she could see dark shapes through the clear glass, and she could only assume that people were milling about, observing her current condition and checking her vitals.
It was strange to be aware of her surroundings while in the stasis tank. It was the first time she could remember being conscious of what was happening around her.
She thought about the IV stand she'd flung with her mind before going under, and s
he attempted to make that same mental connection again. It was the same connection she'd felt a hundred times before, but that last time... that last time she had controlled and initiated the connection. She had used the connection as she had wanted, and she would do it again.
Ever since the night outside the cabin where they'd killed her mom and she'd lifted the forest.
It was true, she knew it, despite whatever the doctor said. She had not imagined her mother’s death. They had killed her, and the forest had lifted from the ground. Islands of trees and rocks, great floating mounds of earth.
Mae was getting stronger. She could feel it.
But inside the tank, something was preventing her from making that connection. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't reach out and touch... Mae still didn't know what it was that she touched when she reached out with her mind, but it was as real as touching something with her fingers.
As she considered it further—she had no idea how long she considered it, as there was no sense of time in the stasis tank—she thought it was more like seeing a textured painting and smelling whatever the painting depicted, rather than actually touching. Whatever happened in her mind when it happened, her senses were extended, and she could manipulate her surroundings with thought. A long time ago, as she was being lowered into the stasis tank as a child, her father had said that it was for her own good and for the safety of others. Only now did she realize that the tank prevented her senses from working, and thus prevented the mental connection.
Mae remembered this happening when she was a child, although it only happened then when she was angry. Years of being tested and then years on the road with her mother, practicing her ability, had led to a greater sense of what happened in her mind, and how to control it.
The scientists—Dr. Whaler—called it piquing, and she supposed that word was as good a description as any, but no matter what they called it, she had controlled her ability. She had flexed her mind, much like flexing a muscle in her arm or leg, and she had controlled it.
Mae had to get out of the tank, and when she did, she would destroy the tank. Smash it into a million pieces and splatter the thick, warm liquid as far as she could.
But how? she wondered, and the darkness began to set in again. She was stuck, and no one knew where she was, and no one cared, and no one could save her.
Ryan cared.
Adam cared.
She had no idea if they were even alive, even though she supposed they did care. And even if they were alive, how would they know where to look for her. Even Mae had no idea where she was, or where she was going. Finding her would be nearly impossible.
And if they were alive, either one of the boys who'd so recently entered her life, and even if they could find her, would they? She had known Ryan for only a short time—and their time was intense, to say the least, and she thought she might even love him—but did he love her back?
Mae remembered a night not long ago, when he'd asked her what she wanted to do for the evening. She said she wanted to go bowling, because she'd never been bowling. He looked at her with that cocked eyebrow as if he thought she were joking, but wasn't quite sure, and then agreed. It was late in the evening by that time, and the streets were already empty as they drove. Mae remembered the way the snow sprinkled from the dark sky onto the silent streets. They found a bowling alley in a neighboring town that was still open, and the parking lot was full of old and battered cars.
"You've really never been bowling?" Ryan asked, as he turned into the lot and frowned at the cars.
"No, is it fun?"
Ryan shrugged, "Well, it's a blue collar sort of thing. A pastime for the working folk."
She laughed. "You're embarrassed to bowl, aren't you? A few too many steps below the great Ryan Coffee, steward of the one percent, eh?"
He looked away, but she could see he was smiling.
Colored neon lights flashed in the shape of bowling balls and pins, illuminating the floating snowflakes in weird combinations of blues and yellows and reds. There was something magical about the night and the anticipation of doing something she'd never done before.
Ryan parked the car and they climbed out into the night. He took her hand, butterflies fluttered and took flight like they always did when he touched her, and she could barely stand it. The snow crunched as they walked to the entrance.
"Well, get ready for the time of your life," he said and pulled the door open for her. She was hit with a wave of smoke and the smell of alcohol. Loud music, shouts and laughter filled her ears, all background to the sounds of rolling balls and crashing pins, and she was excited.
Before she'd met Ryan, she and her mother had talked about doing fun things like this, but they had never followed through. Too dangerous, her mother would say, because they are always hunting, and being in public meant that people saw you, and when people saw you, eventually the hunters would see.
Mae knew she should have been more careful, but at the time, she'd only wanted to be with Ryan, and to have fun.
When they started their first game, the alley was filled with people laughing and playing, but as the night wore on and they kept bowling, the crowd thinned until they were alone. Mae caught on to the game quickly and had a natural talent for bowling, but Ryan had a difficult time keeping the balls from the gutter. But it didn't matter much. She would laugh and he would smile, and when they traded turns sending the balls towards the pins, they would glance at each other, knowing what the other was thinking, and sometimes their fingers would touch as they passed by.
Right before the manager of the bowling alley announced closing time, he shut off the main overhead lights and switched on the rotating disco ball. Slow songs played from the speakers and they forgot about bowling when Ryan took Mae into his arms and they danced. Mae remembered the feel of his arms on her waist and his breath on her neck. He smelled like cedar and burnt citrus, and she pulled him tighter.
Her memory flashed forward to later that night when he dropped her off at the hotel room and she'd invited him up for the first time. He was paying for the room, paying for her stay at the hotel, and he had never once come inside, never once suggested an invitation to her room. But that night, she'd wanted him to be with her, wanted the evening to go on forever and never end.
"Your room is nice," he said, and she smiled, squeezing his hand.
"Thanks to you."
"Thanks to you for the evening. I never thought bowling would be so fun."
"You call that bowling?" she asked, her eyebrows raised and he laughed.
And she was again in his arms, feeling his body close, and together their heat and smell was almost too much, and she wanted him—
they will never stop hunting
—her mother's voice said in the back of her mind, so quiet.
no one close to you is safe
—but that time, it was her own voice, and she'd pushed Ryan away.
"Are you okay?" he'd asked, and she nodded, tears pooling in her eyes as she looked away. She could still smell him on her, and she wanted to kiss him, to go to him, but they would never stop hunting her, and he wouldn't be safe. He would never be safe.
Ryan opened his mouth to say something, and she thought it might be that he loved her, but instead he whispered goodnight and kissed her cheek. Mae held his hand for a moment longer, squeezing it softly, and he smiled.
And there in the tank, with no feeling of anything beyond what was in her own mind, Mae remembered loving him and wondering if he loved her back. And now he was dead because they would never stop hunting her, and no one close to her was safe. They'd killed her mother, her father, and now Ryan. And she would never know if he loved her.
But with Adam, she knew. He loved her, or at least, had loved her at one time, long ago. It was a different kind of love, slower and younger. She remembered the feelings she had on that mountain when they'd first kissed, and could feel the slow burn of passion. Mae had been much younger then, and she had loved him back and h
ad promised him that she would never stop loving him. Through all the years of experiments and being on the run with her mom, she'd kept that love for Adam in her heart, hoping that one day, she would see him again. Kiss him again. But now, with Ryan, she didn't know. Everything was so confusing, and her feelings flew from one to the other. Mae loved them both, but couldn't love them both. It wasn't fair, not to herself, not to them. It was so confusing.
None of that mattered anymore.
Mae shook her head, her movements slow and stagnant in the thick liquid of the tank.
Adam had been there at Ryan's house during the attack. He was probably dead, killed for no other reason than being close to her. They were both dead, and she was finished with being hunted. Never again the victim. Never again the prey. When she was let out of the tank, if she was let out, she would finish it. Even if she died in the process, they would pay.
Mae needed to get out. Needed to be free from the tank, to feel again. To touch the world with her mind. To destroy her hunters.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The last swallow of chamomile tea was cold, but she barely noticed. She’d been sitting in the café for hours now, and finally her efforts were paying off.
Heather sat back in her chair and smiled as she breached the last of the firewalls and servers opened before her. It was always gratifying when she got through, and this particular set of protections had been difficult. At one point, she'd unconsciously thought about sending a message to the Duke for assistance, before remembering that they'd killed him. The memory of his death once again lit the fire inside her and she pressed on, trying routes through the firewall.
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