Rise

by K. T. Hanna

I didn’t even want to think about who had come to drop this envelope off. It was all I could do not to look around and see if I could find them. Shoving my stolen goods into their pale tomb, I slammed the mailbox shut and glared at it, holding our mail in my hands so hard I began to crease it.

  Objective Complete. First mission accomplished. Process and analyze what you learned while completing it.

  Gee. Homework too. Great. I sort of just stared at the now-closed mailbox with our letters clutched in my hands.

  “What did the mailbox do to you this time?” Orion stood on the stairs, looking down at me, a lopsided grin on his face. His dark brown hair dangled loosely, and he reached up absent-mindedly to push it behind his ears again.

  Thinking quickly was usually my thing, but I never really lied. Lies were pretty much my pet hate. “It delivered us bills.”

  I held them up as if to prove my point, but more so I was doing something, anything.

  He raised an eyebrow at me as I began to climb the stairs up to him. One of those I’d come to know over the years that meant he didn’t really believe me, but that it was okay for now. “Damned bills. How much better would life be if we didn’t have any of those?”

  Guilt boiled in the bottom of my gut and I forced a smile at him. “I don’t know. I gave up living in fairy tales when I was a kid.”

  Orion eyed me skeptically. “Bullshit. You never liked them then either.”

  I had to laugh. He had a knack to call me on my crap. “Good point. Guess I never believed in the make believe after all.”

  “That’s kind of sad.” His tone took me by surprise, as did the thoughtfulness in the words. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he had robot eyes with the way they gleamed even in the low light of the stairwell.

  “Well, I’m not sad.” There, I lied, and it tasted like bile.

  He smirked at me. “Pull the other one. I know you better than that. Are you really okay after the accident?”

  I hesitated, which probably sealed my doom, because Orion knew me better than I knew myself sometimes. “I’ll be okay.”

  And I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

  The next morning took its damn time arriving. I barely slept. Every time I thought I was about to doze off, the sensation of electricity rushing through me jolted me awake. Or else, robots clad in shadows reached for me just before I woke up.

  At five-thirty, I stood up, about ten minutes before my alarm. I had to be at the track by six thirty, may as well get up a few minutes before I usually would.

  Stumbling into the bathroom, I rubbed my scarred shoulder. The contact with my other hand made all of the veins tingle. For a split second the reflection in the mirror made it seem like my Lichtenberg was on fire, but it was gone as soon as I blinked. I really needed more sleep.

  How I was going to make it around the damned track today, I had no idea. My teeth felt gritty, and I couldn’t remember if I’d brushed them before bed, so I attacked them with what little energy I felt, blinking blearily at the mirror.

  Glasses. I’d left my glasses in the damned bedroom, and my eyes felt too itchy and clogged to risk putting in my contacts. Stupid eyesight. Couldn’t have had death fix that in the process.

  Death doesn’t cure what ailed you in life. Second Chance allows you to live. Not to become immortal.

  Fine. Be completely and utterly analytical. I wasn’t entirely sure, but it seemed like the system in my head had gained a bit of attitude.

  Your first task is marked as completed. You will receive compensation directly into your bank account.

  I got paid? It was weird directing a thought at a part of my brain. But I knew speaking out loud to myself wasn’t going to go down well.

  The TOS you agreed to stated as much. You will gain experience in order to move up to higher ranks within the organization, and you will be compensated.

  Maybe that made up for the crazy shit from last night. But it sure as hell didn’t quite my curiosity. Frankly, it just fed it. I shut my jaw, realizing belatedly that I’d been staring at myself in the mirror. Well, sort of past myself really. I finished brushing my teeth, mulling over the information in my mind, and tried desperately to wake up properly.

  “Uh. Dare?”

  Orion stood at the threshold of the bathroom, entirely awake, and focused completely on my left side.

  Shit. I should have thought of that since I usually slept in tank top or shirts. I’d kept it covered yesterday.

  My thoughts converged, rushing to give information that sounded plausible. “The accident yesterday involved a bit of electricity.”

  My best friend frowned and took a couple of steps closer. It wasn’t like the bathroom was large, and feeling his breath so close made it seem like he could see all my secrets. His fingers traced down my scar, lighting me up with electricity again, making it thrum through each little tendril.

  “You don’t get these from a little bit of electricity.” His tone was soft, filled with worry for me, but was edged with steel. If only he knew.

  “Yeah, I know.” It was difficult to force a smile. Orion had enough shit to worry about. He didn’t need to add me to the list. “I’m good though. Heading out to practice.”

  “Sure you’re up for it?” He glanced over the scar again, a frown tugging at his lips. “I’m sure Coach Marth would let you off the hook. One look at that scar, and you won’t even need a doctor’s note.”

  He was right of course. Coach Marth told it like it was when you needed to hear it, but he was also the first to advocate self care, and I knew what he’d do with this. “I’m fine. The fresh morning air will help.”

  The frown stayed on Orion’s face though. “I don’t think it’s wise to push yourself. That’s a mega shit ton of electricity if it gave you a Lichtenberg.”

  He wasn’t about to let it go, so I scowled. The urge to use the electricity inside me seemed to grow when I got irritated or scared. It flared with emotion. Fantastic. “I don’t want to be late, and I’ll be fine.”

  “Whatever you say.” Orion shrugged and crossed his arms, but I could tell he was irritated with me. “Now hurry up. I need to brush my teeth too.”

  I laughed, finally awake enough to go over the words I’d spoken already. Nothing I’d said should have given anything away.

  “Yeah, you really have stank breath,” I teased as I stepped out of the room.

  My only answer was him slamming the door behind me.

  Face washed, clean clothes on, I walked into the kitchen to grab some peanut butter on toast. Fantastic meal that one. Protein was key. I’d be warmed up by the time I got to the track, because there was no way I was taking the trolley. Checking my backpack, I threw my tablet inside—thanking my stars I’d not had it on me yesterday—and made sure my digital pen was in with it. Everything, including text books, was on there. This tablet thing made it possible for me to run with a backpack on and not break my back.

  I sorted through the terms I’d agreed to in my head while I ran. Slow at first so as to warm up in the chilly, almost spring air. The normal scents of Philly assaulted my senses. Gas exhaust, cheap weed, and piss lingered underneath the damp of the morning breeze. As far as I’d understood, I was to maintain my lifestyle as it had been before my afterlife began. Easier said than done. There was no way I could keep the scar hidden. The fractal patterns looked gorgeous, but damned if I couldn’t remember the searing pain before the nothingness.

  Jogging in the city was quite common, and other pedestrians automatically parted ways so I could keep going. Not that there were many people around just after six in the morning.

  Do you have any questions?

  The sound of the system’s voice took me by surprise. I wonder if it was really speaking to me or if I’d supplied my own version of it speaking the words my head sees. Are you really speaking, or am I just reading
?

  A bit of both.

  Fantastic answer. Still, it was good to know it wasn’t all in my...well, I guess it was all in my head. I glanced down at my empty wrist and grunted in frustration. My step counter was gone. I’d taken it off last night because it was fried, but damn if I hadn’t gotten used to it in the last few months.

  Yes, I had questions for Second Chance, but that could wait until I’d navigated the city streets and gotten to my destination in one piece.

  I do, but I have to figure out how to ask them.

  It paused for a moment before replying. Very well.

  The athletics fields and arenas were on the outskirts of the university’s grounds, near the Schuykill River. I pushed myself more than I usually would have, or I’d not have made it on time. Considering I got to the locker room with only five minutes to spare, I needed to get my shit together, or else wake up earlier.

  I’d warmed up enough to take my jacket off, although the cool air tickled at the hairs on my arms, taunting me with goose bumps. My endorphins laughed at nature’s attempts to make me cover up. Complete with training pants and a school t-shirt that incidentally revealed less of my scar than a tank would have, I made sure my shoes were tied and headed out to see the coach and the rest of my team.

  It was the only way I could afford to go to this school. Full athletic scholarship. Long distance specialist. Anything under one thousand meters, and I sucked. Make me run a few miles though, and I was in seventh heaven.

  The best thing about running though? Freeing my mind. Letting everything else around me melt away. No thoughts of electrocution. No thoughts of money troubles. And no worries about turning into a thief in the night.

  My first class on a Monday didn’t start until nine. Which left me extra time for running around in circles. I could feel the coach’s eyes on me, like he was trying to read my mind. Well, I had news for him. I already had a friend in my head, talking to me whether I liked it or not.

  You seem uncomfortable.

  No shit, I shot back at the intrusive bloody system.

  Are none of my thoughts my own?

  Sometimes you are quiet, other times you are loud. I read the volume. If I can’t hear you, I do not respond.

  Odd. Sometimes it spoke like it was an individual instead of a program. No time like the present to figure out what I’d actually gotten myself in for.

  Is the assignment I went on last night typical of tasks I’ll be given? There we go, let’s see where this got me.

  After a short pause, the system piped up, but this time it was more formal, and less concerned. Maybe there were two sides to it.

  At Junior Rank, yes. You will be given trivial tasks that may or may not require your abilities.

  Wait. How was that a trivial task last night? I mean… I ran the words over in my mind, deliberately choosing them. How was that weird science lab thing behind that hidden door, trivial?

  Not to mention running from what appeared to be a programmed shadow. But I waited for an answer instead of adding to my initial question.

  You retrieved the necessarily file. As long as you weren’t observed, you were successful.

  Did it just avoid my question? Did you intend for me to find that door?

  The object of these tasks is to test your aptitude and put you on the correct path for your specific gifts.

  Apparently it wasn’t about to give me a straight answer. Stupid thought activated system. Why couldn’t I talk to a real person? Correct path? Well, that sounded ominous. Isn’t my aptitude with electricity?

  Yes. Your skill is based on the cause of your death. As you were electrocuted, you have an affinity to that element. However, if you cannot act in a stealthy manner, or make split second decisions, how is your ability to enhance or control electricity of any use?

  I’m not sure if the question was rhetorical, but it made sense to me, so I didn’t reply. The steady beat of my feet against the rubber-like track beneath me timed like a metronome. It helped the thoughts tick steadily through my head as if they were musical notes.

  This is like basic training then? Was all I could come up with, despite the synchronicity my body currently felt. At least the electricity hadn’t interfered with that.

  Yes. Junior rank does one of two things. You either pass your tests and move onto the next level, or else you fail them, and your TOS is terminated.

  A chill that had nothing to do with the early morning swept through me. At the far end of the field a breeze picked up, whipping some errant leaves left over from autumn into a frenzy. Shapes like shadows danced on the wind, at once there and then gone. I shook my head and focused on what SC had said to me. They didn’t seem to mind culling their herd if the system had miscalculated and pulled the wrong person into the program.

  The Second Chance program does not make mistakes.

  Again with the eavesdropping. Thanks.

  I didn’t want to talk to it anymore and tried to direct my thoughts inward to avoid alerting its presence. Maybe it caught on, or maybe I was successful. I wasn’t sure at all. But it was almost eight-thirty, and I’d been running for over two hours if I counted the run to the school.

  Coach Marth walked out to meet me as I slowed down. He threw me a towel and crossed his arms. What was it with people taking that stance around me today?

  “You looked calm out there. Steady paced. Solid. A few weeks to go until State. Are you ready?” There was something else he wasn’t asking, because the most important questions came first.

  I grinned. “Of course I’m ready.” I was proud of my resistance. Born ready just sounded so presumptuous.

  He smiled. “Good. Now are you going to tell me why you either got a very convincing tattoo, or why you have a Lichtenberg scar on your left arm?”

  Yeah, there it was. The other shoe. I didn’t think I’d favored my left side, but I could be wrong. Still he wouldn’t have said I looked solid if I hadn’t. So it must just be that he wanted to know where the scar came from. “Was in an accident yesterday. Got lucky.”

  “You were in an accident and all you got was that scar, eh? No injury. No hospital stay. Just jumped straight to a scar then?” His tone sounded skeptical, and I couldn’t blame him. “Does it hurt?”

  I shrugged. “It stings a bit, aches every now and again. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  Hell, I’d run with blisters before. This was nothing. With every word I spoke or action I took, I wondered if the system was watching. How many agents did it have and how much multitasking did it have to do?

  “Did you get it checked out?”

  Ah, now I got it. He was worried that I hadn’t gone to a doctor and got a release. That it might impact my ability to perform at the State championships. “I’m good to go, coach. Don’t worry. Got checked out at the hospital and everything.”

  The relief he felt spread across his face. “Good. Can’t have my number one runner down for the count. Need to get you to Nationals again. You were robbed last year.”

  I laughed, because he was right. No one was tripping me this year. Fuck that shit. I’d been naïve in my sophomore year. Now I was a junior, and I wasn’t taking shit from anyone. “We’ve got this, coach.”

  And I headed into the locker room before he could keep chatting to me. Right now I only had about twenty minutes to shower quickly and then make it to my class on time. At least Ethics and Internet Data would let me relax a bit.

  The hot water was divine. I don’t know how people had lukewarm showers, or even cold ones. Hot was where it was at, and it even helped soothe the ache that wouldn’t quite stop in my shoulder. The tiredness that eluded me during the night had decided to set upon me with abandon. Pretty typical, yet annoying. Every time I closed my eyes I felt like I was being watched and jolted back to full wakefulness.

  I toweled myself off and flicked my hair out of my face. D
rying it was just a waste of time, it never did what it was told anyway. As I reached for my locker shadows flickered in each side of my peripheral vision, and I felt a strange sort of surge inside me, like I’d eaten tingly crunch bites or something and was going to be sick.

  Darkness continued to linger at the edges of my sight, and I couldn’t help the feeling of déjà vu, like I should know these things. That I should understand them. It didn’t have the same vibe as the ones I’d seen last night. Close, but only similar.

  The headiness almost made me stumble with recognition that floated just out of reach, and I had to shake myself out of the stupor and pull back into the now. The now where I didn’t have long before my next class, and I needed to hurry up even more.

  I reached for my locker, but the moment my hand touched it to pull it open a rush of power began to pool at the contact point. It couldn’t have been more than a microsecond, but it felt like an age. I could see my skin make contact with the metal, watch the tiny shots of electricity bubble over and out of my skin, making definitive contact with the locker.

  All I could think in that split second was: oh shit. Then time came rushing back, and I was pushed away with such force that I flew into the lockers behind me, before falling to the ground.

  It momentarily knocked the wind out of me, and the darkness in my vision disappeared while I tried to catch my breath.

  Ill-advised usage of your skill. Please be warned, when lay people are present, limiting of power usage is advised.

  I didn’t use it deliberately! I threw the words at my stupid interior voice. My lungs hurt and as they began to calm down, so did my back. It had better be temporary. I had shit I need to do, races I needed to win.

  Be more cautious. You may need to practice so the electricity doesn’t bottle up and require an outlet. Releasing pent up and unused power is paramount to maintaining your health.

  Gee, thanks for telling me sooner. I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice as I picked myself up gingerly and tested to see if anything was broken.

  It seemed okay, and I really hoped it was. At least my locker was open now. I grabbed my day clothes and pulled them on, stuffing my athletic gear haphazardly into my backpack. It was difficult not to think about how much worse that discharge could have been had I still been in the shower. With the water to conduct my outburst.