Unnatural (The Unnatural Saga Book 1)

by Jakob Farrar

  “I doubt that,” he said before stepping backwards off the building.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Safehouse

  “What was that?” asked Kaytlen as they walked inside the mansion the Peters lived in. They had decided to split up and search the huge house in teams of two, Gabe staying behind with Phoebe in a safe place near the front of the house.

  “That was an…acquaintance of ours,” Byron said.

  “This place seems empty,” she said, “How big was your family?”

  “It wasn’t just my family that lived here,” Byron said as they walked up a flight of stairs, “This place was also used as a private school, mainly overseen my parents and siblings, of which I had five.”

  “Five brothers and sisters?” Kaytlen said, “I don’t think I could live with that.”

  “I wasn’t here very often,” Byron said.

  “You weren’t at home? Then where were you?”

  Byron stopped, wondering if he should tell Kaytlen this. He could go into another Dive. “I was…researching,” he said, honestly enough, without having to go into any details, “That’s strange,” he said, “My mother would have come out by now and greeted me, I would have thought.”

  “Are you sure she’s not afraid of you? She might be hiding.”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Byron said, “Out of anybody in the world, she wouldn’t hide from me.”

  Byron opened a door, but jumped back when he saw what was inside. Kaytlen screamed. Stephen and Mark were there in an instant.

  In the room, which had been Byron’s parent’s bedroom, was a squadron of soldiers, one with his gun pressed against Byron’s mother’s back.

  “What’s going on?” said Byron, looking into his mother’s eyes. She wasn’t scared, she never was. She was always calm, always taking in her circumstances with peace and patience. Even now, her eyes were filled with tranquility instead of fear.

  “Surrender, Unnatural,” the soldier said, “We have been sent with orders to arrest you on the basis of terrorism and the murder of Governor Willard Poore.”

  “Wait,” said Byron, “We don’t want to hurt-”

  “Surrender,” the soldier said, tightening his grip on the trigger.

  “Let me-”

  “You’re under arrest!”

  Byron felt the air heat up next to him as Mark quickly drew fire into his hand. Time seemed to slow down as Mark threw the fireball forward. It collided with the soldiers, sending them flying back into the wall and onto the ground.

  But not before the soldier pulled the trigger.

  Byron’s mother fell to the ground. Byron screamed, rushing to his mother’s side.

  “You’re finally home,” his mother said, gasping in his arms. Tears flooded Byron’s face. “I knew you would come back eventually,” she said, “Everyone did.”

  “Where’s everyone else?” Byron asked, “The children? The school?”

  She shook her head. “We were cleared out when the soldiers came this morning,” she coughed, “They’re looking all over for you, Byron. You have to leave.”

  “Not without making sure you’re alright.”

  “There’s no saving me. You have to go. The soldiers are on their way already.”

  Byron shook his head. “You were the last part of my life, mother,” he said, “You were all that I had left.”

  “This is the end of your life, Byron,” she said slowly, “This is the end of your life here in Sector Seven. You need to go and start a new one. One where you can make a difference and save us all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s only one thing you have to remember,” she gasped, “Come close.” Byron leaned his head in towards hers, listening to her final word.

  “Abel.”

  All Mark could do was watch. He watched as Byron whispered something and watched as he cried on his mother’s shoulder.

  Mark wished he didn’t know what Byron was feeling. He wished he hadn’t lost someone that important to him. But Mark had, now probably forever, since Byron’s mother was dead. She was the only one who could have been able to help Phoebe wake up.

  Now Phoebe would probably die. She’d be stuck, paralyzed until her body broke down.

  Not that it mattered; Mark would probably be dead himself soon. They were stuck in the middle of a Sector where the military had seized control. Or, at least, the government. They wouldn’t get out easily; they’d have to fight.

  Suddenly, Byron looked up. “No,” he said, looking at Mark, “There is another option,” he said, standing, “I told myself I’d never go there again, but I don’t see a choice.” He stepped towards Mark, an intense look in his eye, as if he were setting foot into a quest that would be completed no matter what. “I will not let Phoebe die,” he said.

  “Guys!” came Gabe’s voice from downstairs, “We got trouble down here!” he yelled at them.

  The Unnatural ran downstairs. Byron looked out of one of the large windows and saw lines of soldiers, all marching towards the mansion.

  “You’re right,” Byron said to Mark, “We’ll have to fight.”

  Byron shoved a rifle he had pillaged from one of the dead soldiers into Stephen’s hands, saying, “Teleport with this. Don’t let it go until you’re out. Mark, take Phoebe and follow me. You three cover us as we run. We won’t have much time to fight. The lab is close by, so you won’t have to fight for too long.”

  Byron ran out the back door, Mark following him, carrying Phoebe’s body. When they went few yards from the back yard, a crash came from the house, the door being kicked in. Someone shouted, and soon soldiers poured out the back door. Kaytlen turned around and a wall of ice that reached from where she was for several yards in either direction formed around her palms. She brought them out, turning and running to catch up with the others. This kept the soldiers busy for a little while, trying to shoot through the wall, some running around it. Eventually they broke through, but the Unnatural were well out of the way by then. Byron turned into an alley, the others following him. He turned into a door that seems like it’s halfway decayed, beckoning for the others to follow him. They entered and found themselves in a small, square room that they could barely all fit into. Byron punched a code into the wall and, suddenly, the group was falling. The fell for a few seconds, wondering what Byron had gotten them into, but stopped. They stepped out into darkness. “Where are we?” said Mark, trying to adjust his eyes to the blackness that enveloped them. “A safe house,” said Byron, “A laboratory.”

  Suddenly, there was a loud click that echoed through the room. Kaytlen felt something cold and metal press against her head. It was a gun, the barrel round.

  “Who are you and how did you get here?” came a female voice from the dark.

  Lights suddenly flickered on, revealing the form of a woman holding a gun pressed against Kaytlen’s forehead. The woman was tall and thin with straight black hair and thin rimmed glasses that were held in front of her green eyes. She was dressed in a white lab coat with what looked like old, dirty clothes underneath.

  “Byron?” she gasped, lowering the gun.

  “Veronica?” said Byron at the same time.

  “I thought you ran away!” said the girl.

  “How-how are you alive?” Byron said, “I saw you! You shot yourself!

  Chapter Fourteen

  Reminiscence

  Veronica rushed towards Byron, wrapping her hands around him. Byron was too shocked to respond. He remembered all too clearly that night, almost a week ago, when he had watched Veronica die.

  The elevator jolted to a stop, the doors opening with a click. Byron ran out of them and into the dark basement, searching frantically for the light switch. He found it, and flipped it, but nothing happened. They must have cut the power already. He didn’t have much time. He heard a small voice cry out from inside the wide, open room. Gasping, he ran towards the voice. There, sitting on the ground was Veronica, tears streaming down her face. Byron knelt on th
e ground next to her, cradling her in his arms

  “Veronica?” Byron said. “What happened?”

  “I told them, Byron,” she said through tears. “They took me away and they did something to me and I told them.”

  “You told them what?” Byron’s heart sunk. He was sure he knew what the answer was.

  “I told them about you. About what you can do.” Byron closed his eyes, burying his face in her hair. That was why they were after him. That’s why he had been chased here. He sat, holding her while she sobbed.

  “You have to go,” Veronica said, pushing herself away from him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You need to leave Sector Seven,” she said. “They’ll catch you if you stay here.”

  “I will,” he said, nodding. “But you need to come with me.”

  “I can’t,” she said. “I’ll only slow you down.”

  “Please, Veronica. Not without you.”

  “Don’t you understand?” she wailed. “You’re never going to be safe again. Ever. And that’s all my fault.” Byron heard crashes from above them. The people chasing him had found the elevator.

  “We can be safe,” Byron said, standing up. “We’ll find somewhere outside of their control, we’ll-”

  “I won’t be able to live with myself, Byron.”

  “Stop talking like that. We need to-” Suddenly, Veronica did something unexpected. She stood up and leaned on Byron, reaching around and around his waist, grabbing the gun he always held by his hip. She backed away from him.

  “Veronica,” Byron said cautiously. “What are you doing?”

  “You need to go, Byron,” she said, her voice shaking. “You said there were others like you, right? Go find them. Make sure that they’re safe too.”

  “Stop it, Veronica.”

  “I can’t go with you, and I can’t stay here knowing I’m the reason you’re not safe.”

  “Put it down.”

  Hands quivering, Veronica brought the gun up to her head. Byron screamed and jumped forward at her, only to catch her limp, lifeless body falling to the ground.

  Byron didn’t remember much after that, he just remembered screaming and crying over Veronica’s dead body. He had touched her blood, covered the hole the bullet had made in her head. He had heard her last breath, felt her last heartbeat.

  “How?” he said, now, “How did you survive?”

  “Your mother,” Veronica said, “She found me and healed me.”

  “No, Veronica,” Byron said, stepping away from her, “You died. I remember that more vividly than anything else. The one memory that has plagued my mind for the past week. I’ve been able to push everything, every horrible reminiscence, away except for that. You should be dead.”

  “But I’m not. I don’t know how it happened, Byron, but it did; I thought I was dead, but I wasn’t. I woke up just fine, and your mom was here with me.”

  Byron didn’t believe her, but chose to act like he did.

  “I’ve seen stranger things,” he said, “Anyways; it’s good to have you back, Veronica. I could use some help, especially now.”

  “What do you need?”

  “We’re going to do something we’ve never done before,” Byron said, “It may backfire heavily on us.”

  “Alright. What are we doing?”

  “This is Phoebe Burton,” Byron said, motioning for Mark to bring Phoebe’s body forward, “She was hit by some sort of tranquilizing material in Sector Six. We need to wake her up somehow.”

  “We need to cure paralysis.”

  “It’s not just paralysis; I believe that the tranquilizer was also able to overcome her ability as well, so we’ll need to come up with something to restore those, too.”

  “Should be easy enough. I’ll need a few hours to study how her body is able to enable itself Ferrokinesis-”

  “Wait,” said Mark, “You know what her ability is?”

  “Yes,” said Veronica, “Of course I do. You Unnatural are everywhere in the news.”

  “What’d you call us?”

  “Unnatural,” Veronica said as if it were obvious, “That’s what the people have been calling you. Haven’t noticed that?”

  “Haven’t had much time to look at a television,” Mark said, “Been a little busy.”

  “Maybe you should go into a store and look at one; they usually have news on those twenty-four seven,” Veronica said, instructing Gabe to lift Phoebe up onto a huge, metal chair, “That is, if you can manage to not blow it up.”

  “At least I don’t stay holed up inside a nerd’s dreamscape all day.” Mark was finding it hard to get along with this new woman. How had Byron managed even being a lab partner with her?

  “Come on, people,” Byron interjected before Veronica could retort, “We’ve already made enough enemies. Don’t need to make any with ourselves.”

  Mark looked over at Byron, who was sitting it a chair nearby, a hand on his forehead, the arm of which was resting on his knee. Mark wondered what he felt. It had been a rather hard day for Byron. He had come from Sector Six being blamed for hurting someone, to the point of Mark almost killing him, and then he had come to Sector Seven trying to help that person to find that his old home had been ransacked and overrun by the military. After that, he had had an intense discussion with a strange man who had somehow teleported them to Byron’s mother, who was killed the moment Byron found her. After that, Byron had ran to his last safe house to find that one of the only people he trusted, and thought was dead, was somehow miraculously alive. Now he would have to help that person in a scientific experiment that he had never performed in order to bring his friend back.

  His friend. Was that what Byron considered Phoebe? Or Mark? Or any of them? Or did he just want to get them out because he felt the need to?

  No, Byron did care about them. That Mark knew for sure. He’d risked his life so many times to save theirs, there was no way he could have done it just for himself. He had risked his life by coming to them, by testing Phoebe’s limits in Sector Four, by jumping out of the helicopter with Stephen, by going into Sector Six’s home base and rescuing Kaytlen.

  But Byron had paid the price. Because of his actions, neither he nor any of the other Unnatural was hurt, but Byron’s family had. Byron’s mother had been killed because he had refused to surrender. Byron didn’t know where the rest of his family was; they were probably dead too. Byron didn’t say it, but Mark knew that he thought it.

  Byron wasn’t an evil monster like Mark had been led to believe during previous events.

  Byron was just like Mark; he was Unnatural.

  Stephen sat on a couch in the sitting room in the lab, watching Mark. He seemed so concerned with Phoebe, like she was his one and only focus. Like she was his goal.

  Stephen felt the couch next to him dip, and he instinctively leaned the other way so as to avoid falling in. He looked next to him and saw Gabe sitting next to him. “How’d you sneak up on me like that?” Stephen said.

  Gabe shrugged, “If I can be anything, I might as well be as loud as it. Besides, I’ve got experience.”

  “What kind?”

  “Not the good kind. Me and Oscar, we were criminals back in Sector Five. Thieves. That’s why Sector Zero was after both of us, not just him.”

  “Oh,” Stephen said. He was surprised, but knew he shouldn’t be. Their group was diverse enough, it wasn’t surprising that there would be someone of a questionable past in it. “Look at him,” Stephen said, nodding towards Mark. “He’s so desperate for her.”

  “And?”

  “Going after her like this isn’t going to help her a bit.”

  “Why does that mean he shouldn’t?”

  “I’m not saying that. I’m just saying he’s going to end up driving her away.”

  “And you would know?”

  “Maybe I would.”

  “I don’t see a problem with his pursuit. In fact, if I were given the opportunity I would help him.”

&nbs
p; “That’s your choice, man.”

  “Would you?”

  Stephen was quiet for a moment before saying, “I’m not sure.”

  Hours passed in the laboratory; it must have been well into the night when Veronica came into the room the Unnatural were in, all sitting around a television, and said, “I think I’ve figured it out.”

  Mark jumped up and looked at her. “What?”

  “You’re a little slow, aren’t you?” Veronica said. She sounded just as Byron had when they had met. “I’ll explain, though,” she said, leading them to beside where Phoebe was seated, “First I had to study Phoebe and figure out how she was able to control metal, which took up the bulk of my research. After I did that, I found the sedative and was able to replicate it while Byron did his best to procure an antidote. I did have to assist him a little, but we believe we were able to create one.”

  “Then what are you waiting for? Put it in!”

  “It’s not that simple,” Veronica said, “The serum is untested, so we’re not sure if it will work. Since I was able to replicate the sedative, it will be possible to inject another living subject with it in order to test the serum. However, this could be very deadly if we made the serum incorrectly.”

  Mark was ready to volunteer. He had no second thoughts about it; he would, if necessary, die in order for Phoebe to live.

  Mark was just about to tell Veronica to give him the sedative when he was interrupted.

  “I’ll do it,” Stephen said from behind Mark. Mark looked back, “No, Stephen, I’m going to-” he began to say, but Stephen interjected, saying, “I’ve got nothing to lose. Besides, I’ll only slow you guys down with my knife wound, so it’ll be better if I die.”

  “You think I have something to lose?” Mark said.

  “Yes,” Stephen said, “Phoebe.” He turned to Veronica. “Give it to me.”

  “Are you sure?” Veronica said, “The serum could kill you if I made it wrong.”

  “That’s fine,” Stephen said.

  “Stephen, no, I’ve g-”

  “No, Mark, you don’t,” Stephen said, lying down on a table. “I’m just being brave,” he said. Veronica slid the syringe into his arm, pushing it down. Stephen’s face contorted with pain. He looked like he wanted to lash out in pain, but he controlled himself. Soon he was lying still on the table, skin cold and eyes glassy.