Freaks of Nature (The Psion Chronicles)

by Wendy Brotherlin

“Oh, really? You sure about that?”

  Winifred’s words stopped Devon cold. Was he sure about that? Well, it wasn’t like he was an earthmover who could command an earthquake to happen instantly. No, that night, he had been in too much pain to think about much of anything at all. He’d just assumed it was just one big natural coincidence that had caused the parking structure to collapse. Either that, or someone else had psionically contributed to his escape.

  But there had been no one else alive to help him.

  Unless…the trees surrounding the parking garage had thought to intervene on his behalf.

  Once again, the sizzle of psionic energy filled the room, but this time, it came from the opposite direction. Grabbing Winifred with his good arm, Devon tossed her around the side of the desk. He dove in right behind her just as a large crimson energy shell came streaking toward them. It lit up the room in an eerie electric-red light before exploding fifteen meters away.

  Devon covered Winifred’s body with his own as more debris rained down on them. There were fires all over the building now, the windows were broken, and people were screaming and crying. The sound of gunfire had ceased.

  “Devon McWilliams!” a thick, deep voice called.

  Oh, great…Alek was looking for a fight. And with Devon, of all people!

  “I think he’s scared of you,” Winifred said quietly.

  “What? That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. He could squash me like a bug!”

  Winifred shrugged. “Well, that’s obviously not what he thinks.”

  Devon was about to disagree when he was struck by a thought. “Back in the badlands, the Network practically fried me. Why?”

  “Because we were told there was a mole in your group, and after we heard about the nine point seven earthquake, we feared you might be a shadow walker. We had all kinds of gizmos monitoring you plus three disruptor bands chaining you to the floor because we were going to shut you down in an instant if we had to.” Winifred shook her head in disgust. “We were so sure that you were the government spy that I didn’t even strap Alek in with any kind of secondary disruptor frequencies. In short, I messed up.” She hung her head and lowered her voice. “I’m the one who didn’t contain the shadow walker.”

  “Shadow walker? Is that what you call them?”

  “Yes. They can appear and disappear, using shadows as dimensional portals.”

  “Great. A guy you can’t turn your back on. Literally.”

  “Oh, yeah, and a little ol’ tech-head like me can’t do squat to him. And he knows it, too.”

  “Devon McWilliams!” Alek’s creepy voice boomed. “Face me now! Or I will start killing your friends one by one…starting with dear little Alison here.”

  Nevada! Devon’s heart leapt to his throat. No! Not Nevada! Not any of them!

  Devon scanned the bank of windows high above until he spotted the great oak’s entwined branches. Without the disruptor bands on, he could feel the tree’s presence—its thick roots nestled deep in the rich earth, its wide expansive canopy warm and impressive in the afternoon sunlight.

  Opening his mind, he reached out beyond the oak and found a multitude of maples, ash, fir, and cottonwoods. An entire forest, in fact! All of them stirring at his mental touch.

  We’re here… the oak tree sighed as a breeze fluttered its magnificent canopy. We feel you…

  “DEVON MCWILLIAMS!” thundered Alek. And Devon’s heart stopped when he heard Nevada scream.

  “Don’t hurt them!” he cried as he bolted up from behind the overturned desk. He sidestepped Winifred’s hand when she attempted to keep him from going out there.

  “What the hell are you doing, McWilliams?” she urgently whispered.

  “Heck if I know,” he replied with a shrug. “But stay out of sight. This is probably going to get messy.”

  Holding his good hand up in surrender, Devon walked as far as he could toward the center of the room. He stopped at the rim of a humongous crater in the floor.

  “Okay. I’m here,” he said. The thought that his friends might die kept him focused on what he was about to do. “So, why don’t you show your big bad self, Alek?”

  Catching a glimmer from the shadows before him, Devon watched in awe as the darkness appeared to liquefy and then recede, leaving behind a thin, bald figure who crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

  “Nevada!” Devon cried. He raced around the edge of the crater to her. It hurt like hell, but he managed to cradle her in his arms.

  Relief rushed over him when he saw her eyelids flutter open.

  “Nevada! Can you hear me?”

  She gazed up at him, and Devon leaned in closer. “Hurt that little shithead good.”

  Devon nodded. “You rest while I go and see what he wants.”

  “What I want?” Alek cried in a mocking tone as the shadows liquefied around Devon. When they receded, the unconscious bodies of Vahn and Miguel lay on either side of him.

  Vahn was the closest, so Devon grabbed his wrist and quickly found his pulse. But Miguel was simply too far away. “Hang on, buddy,” Devon said, as he gently laid Nevada down and then hurried to Miguel’s side. He took a deep breath when he found the telepath still breathing. Thank God.

  “So then,” said Devon as he stood, “where’re Bai Lee and Alya?”

  Alek’s sinister laugh filled the room, and that’s when Devon knew for certain that he was in way over his head.

  Use us! We too shall fight! Darkness is no match for light! The oak tree’s deep voice resonated majestically inside Devon’s mind, its voice as strong and sturdy as its massive trunk.

  Ignoring the pain in his arm, Devon stood straighter and addressed the darkness that ebbed and flowed before him. “I asked you a question, Alek! Where’s—”

  “Right here,” he said, emerging from the darkness. But his face no longer resembled the handsome teen Devon had first met—when? Hours ago? Days ago? Devon couldn’t be sure. The shadow walker’s eyes were liquid night, his face contorted to make room for a set of evil-looking teeth that had no business being in a human mouth. What had the government done to him?

  On Alek’s right stood Bai Lee, still as a statue, her eyes wide open and unblinking, while Alek held her in a trance-like state. She was wearing black military fatigues like many of the freedom workers in this room, her face as lovely as ever. Their entire encounter on the air transport had been nothing but one incredible telepathic mirage. Even his vomit-encrusted face had smelled incredibly real.

  On Alek’s left, he clutched his sister by the throat. He held Alya so high that she was forced to balance on her tiptoes in order to breathe. She glanced over at Devon with wide, panicked eyes.

  “Run, Devon!” she managed to cry before Alek tightened his grip.

  “Alya!” Devon shouted. Then he looked directly at Alek. “Let them go! Now!”

  That evil grin widened to reveal row upon row of saliva-coated needle-like teeth. “And to think I was ever concerned about you. You! A simpleton who talks to plants! The way you fretted so over the discovery of your pathetic little humiliations! Even Bai Lee here was impressed with your mental defenses! You fooled us both, while wearing multiple disruptors, no less!”

  While Alek talked, Devon noticed that Vahn had partially activated his armor. The psi-blade was conscious and preparing for a last-ditch effort. That was reassuring to the tree shepherd, who only needed an opening to launch an attack of his own.

  “You call me a simpleton,” Devon shouted angrily at the creature standing across from him. “Yet you’re the one who got so caught up with discovering who I was that you completely blew your mission!”

  “I did not blow my mission!”

  “Oh, really? Weren’t you supposed to infiltrate the Psionic Underground and report back to your federal masters like some psychotic lapdog?”

  Alek’s face distorted as he struggled to contain his rage. “I am death!” he screamed.

  “You are an abomination!” Devon shouted, and at that m
oment, he saw his opening. The minute Alek eased his grip around Alya’s throat, Devon opened his mind full bore and called the entire forest to him.

  SAVE HER! he psychically ordered his army of trees. The earth trembled as over fifty slumbering giants awoke to Devon’s call.

  Alek furiously locked eyes with him an instant before two thick roots burst from the ground, effectively separating the shadow walker from Alya and the unresponsive Bai Lee.

  “No!” he screamed as Alya ran to the other side of the crater. Alek’s eyes flashed and Devon saw him gather the darkness around him.

  Don’t allow him to escape! Devon ordered the trees.

  Enormous tree limbs—maple, oak, pine, cottonwood—punctured the ceiling, and in one heave, they lifted off the entire roof. Sunlight flooded the chamber as Alek covered his eyes and screamed.

  But the distraction didn’t last long. The sizzle of gathering psionic energy filled the room. Alek was powering up a huge psi-cannon shell.

  “I got this one!” Nevada yelled over the din of battle as the tree army continued its advancement. Around them, the ground trembled and the abandoned warehouse crumbled as the trees pulled it apart brick by brick.

  Alya ran into Devon’s arms at the same time Alek released his massive power burst. Together they watched the rotating ball of psionic energy fly toward them, only to be engulfed a moment later by Nevada’s conjured tornado and sent skyward.

  “NO!” Alek screamed, “I will not be defeated! I will not—”

  Vahn’s crimson blade appeared beneath the para-psion’s sternum, effectively cleaving Alek’s heart in two. Vahn flared his longsword before retracting his blade. The psi-blade then stepped back, shield up, wary of a counterattack.

  Devon halted his tree army. The trembling ceased as Alek quietly fell to his knees. He looked over at Devon and Alya, the inky black draining from his starburst eyes.

  “Alya,” he whispered before tumbling headlong into the crater before him.

  Alya gasped and buried her face in Devon’s sweater as she sobbed. He could only guess that she wasn’t crying for her twin’s loss alone, but for the incredible amount of death, heartache, and destruction that he had caused.

  Devon wrapped his arms around his Romanian princess and let her grieve, feeling her heartbeat flutter against his chest.

  No one moved for several moments. Only Alya’s muffled sobs filled the chamber. Slowly, Nevada set about helping Miguel to his feet, while Vahn and Winifred guided Bai Lee to a makeshift stretcher.

  All around the building, soft cries and moans could be heard as the freedom workers began to gather. Soon, they would begin the task of searching for the wounded and the dead. Taking in the destruction around him, Devon knew that it was going to be one very long and somber day.

  From high above, Devon heard a deep psychic murmuring, and he saw the trees sway. He understood instantly what they were doing, and he freely lent them his power as the trees moved in unison, their voices rising and falling in chorus; their powerful voices intoned a dirge as old and powerful as the earth itself.

  As an ancient melody filled his mind, Devon hugged Alya a little bit tighter. He wanted so much to show her that she was by no means alone in her grief.

  They had all lost so very much that even the trees were mourning.

  But they were alive. And Devon was determined to face the next chapter of his life on his own terms.

  He would always be a freak, but at least for today, with Alya in his arms and his friends safe and sound, he felt the tiniest bit kick-ass.

  And that was a very good feeling indeed.

  Epilogue

  DEVON McWilliams hopped out of the back of the pickup truck, mindful of stray patches of grass that might have infiltrated the forest floor. It had only been two months since he had joined the Psionic Underground Network, but in that time he had learned how to wield his powers with an authority he had never known possible. Despite there being such an amazing support system of baselines and psions keeping him well-fed and out of federal custody, life as a member of the psionic freedom movement had proved challenging.

  Devon was constantly on the move and exhausted from the travel. He journeyed from one secret hideout to another, and each new location took him farther and farther from home. Farther from home had been the last thing he’d wanted the day he begged Colton Weaver to include him in his escape from the North Central Psi Facility.

  But, of course, those plans had gone horribly awry. And while Devon hadn’t intentionally used his psionic abilities to harm anyone that night, he had unknowingly called the old maple trees surrounding the parking structure to rise up in his defense. Their thick roots had tunneled beneath the soil, while their great branches had smashed cars and punched their way through concrete walls.

  Just like that kid in Brazil, Devon had used majestic, peaceful trees to bring about great destruction. It had been a shameful act that had killed not only humans, but the trees themselves. Without Devon’s assistance, the maple trees had perished once the parking structure collapsed. The destruction had been so complete and devastating that the rescue teams had yet to find all of the bodies beneath the rubble. Devon McWilliams was listed as missing and presumed dead.

  That was probably the only reason he had ever made it to the rendezvous point in the first place. No one from the North Central Psi Facility had pursued him into the badlands that fateful night. As far as they were concerned, he had been neutralized.

  But his family thought he was dead, too, and that just added to his pain. It was yet another irreparable loss that he struggled to reconcile.

  Thank God he had Alya. They were officially a couple now, and Devon still couldn’t quite believe it. But at Alya’s gentle urging, Devon was getting over himself a little bit more every day. It was hard not to think of himself as Plant Boy anymore. But as the days rolled by, his anxiety-riddled life before he met Alya became a distant memory.

  Devon gazed at the noble redwoods that surrounded him as his companions walked leisurely up the trail. He stood in a redwood grove just off the California coastline. He had always wanted to visit a primeval forest of redwoods, and from the moment the truck had turned into the state park, he had felt their generous spirits stirring at his mere presence. He could feel the ancient forest dwellers watching him curiously, his psionic energy having pulled some of them from deep slumber. The oldest of the redwoods regarded him suspiciously; he could feel the weight of their mistrust hanging over him like a giant flyswatter ready to smash him to bits at the first sign of danger. With their Jurassic size and deep, almost godlike ties with the earth, these trees were practically alien creatures to Devon.

  No matter what happened tonight, just being in their presence was already one of the most humbling and amazing experiences of his life.

  “You ready?” Alya asked as she stepped up beside him beneath the canopy of trees.

  Devon flashed her a nervous smile and took her hand. “I sure hope so.”

  Leaning forward, Alya kissed him on the cheek. “You’re going to be magnificent. They’re going to love you.”

  “Who? The trees, or my audience?”

  “Both,” she replied with a laugh.

  “Devon! Hey, Devon!” called Winifred as she jogged toward them. “You got a sec? I’ve got something for you.”

  “Sure.” Devon and Alya held hands and waited for Winifred to catch up to them.

  Breathing heavy, she held a tiny box out to Devon. “Here. He arrived at my window this morning.”

  Devon looked at her dubiously, but opened the box as instructed. Inside was a tiny mechanical dragonfly, with delicate golden wings and large turquoise eyes. “It’s beautiful, Winifred.”

  “Call me Winnie,” she beamed. “Now, say ‘playback.’”

  When Devon hesitated, she fanned her hands at him in encouragement. “Go on, now—say it.”

  “Playback.”

  The dragonfly chirped and its delicate wings furiously beat the air. It ros
e from the box and hovered seven feet off the ground. Its green eyes flashed, and a tiny beam of light pooled on the ground before Devon and Alya.

  “Honey? Devon, honey, can you hear me?” said a woman’s voice.

  “Mom?” Devon gasped.

  “Oh, Ben, I think I might be doing this wrong,” said his mother’s voice. There was a click and a break in the beam of light, and suddenly, a full-sized three-dimensional image of Devon’s mother was standing before him. She looked lovely in a bright summer dress, her thick brown hair perfectly styled, though she did look a lot thinner since he had last seen her.

  “Oh, there! I think that’s it, Ben.” His mother looked to the right, listening to someone out of the projection range. “Oh, right, I almost forgot.” His mom turned back to look at him. “Linny says to say hi, and she hasn’t been in your room much since you left. You know, she misses you, honey. We all do. And yes, the FBI did tell us that you were missing and presumed dead, so you can imagine our relief when Linny found Winnie’s dragonfly perched on one of my rose bushes. Isn’t it just the perfect solution? Winnie Addleberry is an absolute dear—a bona fide genius. Tell her we said hello and thank you. We can’t wait to see your first dragonfly hologram.”

  She paused then as she choked back a sob. Smiling through it, despite the tears held precariously in her eyes, his mother continued. “We know it’s an uncertain time for you right now, honey, but one day, I know that we’ll be together again as a family.” She wiped a tear from the side of her face. “Oh, just look at me; I’m a mess. We love you, Devon. Be safe. And know that we’ll be on the lookout for your golden dragonfly sparkling in my rose garden.”

  With a click, the hologram of his mother vanished.

  Devon stood speechless, not even bothering to wipe away the tear that trailed down the side of his face.

  “So, what do you think?” Winnie asked tentatively.

  Slowly, he turned to her. “That was the most amazing thing anyone has ever done for me… Thank you, Winifred.”

  She looked at him pointedly. “I told you to call me Winnie. Only my granny calls me Winifred. Besides, it makes me sound like some old lady.”