by K. T. Hanna
Friday, bloody Friday. Not exactly how I was looking to ride out this week. I threw my backpack onto my bed and let myself fall next to it with a resounding creak as the bed springs strained against my insistence on bouncing. I wanted to scowl at it, but today had sapped my emotional energy and left the electricity bouncing around inside me less controllable than usual.
I rolled over and buried my head in the pillows. Despite my best efforts, my power fed off my mood. And my stupid brain dragged me back to my aggravation multiple times since that friendly intervention despite my explicit efforts to do the opposite. I’d have to avoid the living room and act like I wasn’t in my room when people got here for the weekly Friday gathering crap.
State Championships were only two more weeks away, and my mental state had stagnated. I really needed to let some more of my overflow out. My hair wouldn’t even sit flat against my head at the moment. I just kept generating more and more.
There was a fraction of time before they arrived. I sat back up and accessed my interface. Pulling up the tutorial, I frowned. Grounding elements. I was sure that hadn’t been there initially. What, did it just add shit willy nilly? Sighing, I threw my reservations out the window and dove into the words that burned themselves into my eyes. Grounding sure sounded like a way to gain strength and not be overpowered. Perfect skill to master.
In order to ground myself fully, I’d eventually need to add some form of earth magic to my routine. Which didn’t help me at this moment, because I didn’t have any bloody earth magic. However, knowing that wood and rubber were ways I could release electricity without frying anything helped. Though wood might actually splinter. The more I delved into it, the more it made sense.
Being that my electricity couldn’t actually affect me personally as far as I’d experienced, other than the shocking sensation without the damage, channeling it into something that could deaden electricity made the most sense. Rubber was an insulator, as were glass and plastic surprisingly enough. Perhaps I could carry some sort of insulation around with me, for emergencies when I didn’t have other outlets.
Jumping off my bed, I scanned around the room. I knew it was somewhere. Mom thought they were stress balls when she bought them for me last Christmas, but they weren’t. Just squash balls. I just didn’t have the heart to tell her. But now it seemed like she’d been clairvoyant, because they were made out of rubber.
Finally, I found the small black ball. Roughly four centimeters in diameter, just over an inch and a half, it felt comfortable in the palm of my hand. Closing my eyes, I clutched it tightly in my left hand and focused. My electricity today was wild and not easy to direct. Like it was impatient for me, wanting to avenge or defend me. But I managed to expel some of it through my fingertips right into the heart of the ball.
A shock reverberated up my arm, but apart from mild discomfort, there was nothing else that directly affected me. The ball grew warm for a split second yet remained intact in my hand. While it wasn’t the best solution, I could keep a tiny squash ball in a backpack or pocket. For now, at least I had a way not to accidentally kill someone if they surprised me all the while letting the edge off my bottled-up power.
Skill acquired: Rudimentary Grounding
Excellent. I could only wish that these skills came a little faster. My upgrade made me think about all my previous missions, which brought me back to a more immediate problem.
Like, what had they been doing in that lab?
Damn my brain. Dilemmas sucked. Especially since I didn’t feel like going out into the living area and talking to my interventionist friends. It was the first time I wished I had a valid reason to get away from the apartment on a Friday night.
Assignment type: Recon.
Time: Before 5:30 p.m.
Location: Fountain gathering area on campus.
Task: Observation only. Do not be discovered. Consequences will follow if you are. Identities and subject matter of paramount importance.
Due: Midnight. Report directly to your Second Chance interface.
Compensation: To be determined.
Seriously? I phrased the question very loud in my head, specifically directing it to the damned interface that was so opportune with its demands.
You said you wished you had a valid reason to get away.
Valid for others to hear, not just for me. Still, I shouldn’t be so nasty, so I sighed and begrudgingly sent a mental thank you.
I could almost hear it grinning. I still wished I could tell when it was listening in. The lack of privacy was an annoyance.
Any excuse was good excuse. I grabbed my backpack and headed out my door, pausing in the kitchen to grab an apple. If I had to, I’d be extravagant for once and spend some of my black-market money to buy a burger or something on the way home. Rebellion never felt so good.
Orion stopped at the edge of the hallway when he saw me biting into the apple. I winked at him, feeling mischievous in the moment.
“You’re not staying for the game night?” There was a tinge of sadness to his voice, and for a moment I felt a pinch of guilt, but it didn’t last long.
“Have to duck to campus, left one of my favorite socks in my stupid locker.” I shrugged and slipped out the door, trying not to worry at the sinking feeling in my stomach. We’d been friends for so long it felt odd trying not to care. But after the way we parted that afternoon, how could he act so normal? Was this system making me care less about the things I’d loved my entire life?
I don’t have the power over your free will.
So I can refuse to do these assignments?
It paused. Well, no.
Then you do have power over my free will.
But not in the way you’re implying.
It sounded defensive. I’d take that as a victory for now. Technicalities, eh? Was nice to know the thing in my head could be pedantic. It had been cutting it close though. What was this task that I had to be there in forty-five minutes? Who would they have sent otherwise?
The apple tasted sourer the more questions I asked myself. There were no answers forthcoming, so SC was in off mode right now. Or at least pretending to ignore me and my inquisitive mind.
Still, eerily quiet. Oddly enough.
The traipse to the campus felt much longer than it usually did in the mornings when I’d woken fresh, when I felt like I was on top of the world. Right then I was tired, with a full day already behind me and heaps of friendly emotional baggage as well. Nothing that a little surge of energy wouldn’t fix. It was becoming second nature to use my ability. I could get used to it. How did one inform their friends they lived on borrowed time?
You don’t.
I didn’t ask you. It was rhetorical.
I’ve never understood that concept. Don’t ask a question if you don’t want an answer.
Then don’t choose to answer only what you want to answer.
Today was going great. Not only had my friends staged their bloody intervention, but now the computer voice living in my head was deciding to give me hard time too.
Setting foot onto the campus this late in the afternoon, especially a Friday, was an eerie experience. Sure, sometimes I was here in the mornings when it was still dark, but that wasn’t nearly the same thing. Shadows fell differently at this time of day. With the sun setting, it stretched fingers of warm light through the buildings like bleeding hands trying to keep a hold on life that was slipping away from it.
I shuddered and eyed the fountain in the middle of the quad. Not many people lingered around it. Most of them were busy going to or from places, things to do, tests to take, teachers to fuck.
There was that cynical part of me again. I specifically knew of people who went about their education that way. Using charms instead of brains, using their bodies in other ways. It was their choice, and I thought that was okay. If whatever they wanted was worth a different e
ffort to them, wasn’t it still effort?
Me? I exerted myself physically all the time. It made my brain work better, and allowed me to afford to come here in the first place. There really wasn’t a difference.
I realized I’d stopped and stood gazing at the fountain. For the first time all day, I didn’t feel the electrical charge in me churning to get out. The scene in front of me was idyllic. They’d only turned the fountain back on last week after the ridiculously cold winter. Dolphins balanced on stone waves tossing a ball to each other. Art and I have never really gotten on well, but this fountain always made me feel at ease. Blinking as a few water droplets landed on my face, I backed away and then set off to sit under one of the trees.
For as long as there was still sunlight in the sky, anyway. I frowned looking up. It was almost five-thirty in the afternoon. How long was this going to go on? I couldn’t sit beneath a tree and read once it was pitch black outside. That cover wasn’t going to work.
We think it’ll take maybe two hours.
Do I need to stay the entire time?
Not necessarily. We require names and general conversation topics. It’s recon, nothing more.
Okay.
Tree it was then. Sadly, it wouldn’t keep me out of the house as long as I thought it would, but I could always stop for that generously-donated dinner on the way home. I settled myself at the base of a tree and pulled out my tablet. If nothing else I could use this to figure out who it was gathering in this place, and if I needed to, I might be able to record what they were saying. Doubted it though, I didn’t have good audio equipment, and the wind would probably interfere in anything I could record anyway.
The pulse in my fingers beat heavier than ever as I activated the tablet. Like the electricity inside me resonated with the tech.
As five o’clock neared, people began to linger around the fountain. Some of them sat on the lip of the edge, trailing their fingers through the cold, clear liquid. Others stood in groups, clutching their books to their chests, talking and laughing like this was a regular thing. Others slunk up close to the fountain, staying in the shadows where I couldn’t see their faces, but I could feel their eyes on me, watching, waiting. None of the others did that. None of them even noticed me. I wanted to keep it that way.
But even as I began to identify and note down each individual in attendance as the gathering turned less casual and more like a larger group event, I could feel those eyes on me. No one I’d identified yet even looked my way. I wasn’t the only student out in the quad, leaning against a tree. The eyes I could feel watching me belonged to shadows and specters. Like they were waiting for me to move into their domain, and as the sun continued to dip down, I could feel their reach spreading more and more.
Just as slowly as the sun dropped, the anticipation in my power rose to the surface. Surely if those shadows were those robots, I could fry them. I had power, loads of it. Hell, I could probably overload the citywide electric grid if I felt like it.
Sparks erupted from my left hand as if agreeing, and for a moment all I wanted to do was find them and confront those damned things. Whatever they were.
I stuck it out though, sitting there, my back against the tree, slowly starting to itch. Touching nature wasn’t really my forte, because a lot of it made me sneeze. As I catalogued the twenty-ninth person and attempted yet again to tune into what those gathered were saying, a cloud covered what was left of the sun and plunged the area into almost complete darkness.
Those figures slithered through the throng of people fast, their elongated fingers stretching, touching human flesh. I watched in horror as their faint red eyes fixated on me and could almost sense the grin of glee that had to be on the faces I couldn’t see. Each person they touched shivered for a split second before turning back to their conversation, oblivious to how they’d become half a shade paler.
What were they doing? Were they feeding?
I had no idea what this meant, none at all, but I backed up quickly to standing, shoving my tablet back into my bag. My head buzzed with sudden energy, giving me a splitting headache for a few seconds. I didn’t know what those things were, but I didn’t want them coming closer to me, and they kept inching their way toward me. Frantically, I glanced around, but again no one near the fountain had noticed me.
Even though I noticed them, even though I noticed what those—whatever they were—were doing to them. Leeching energy perhaps? Stealing thoughts? My brain couldn’t quite comprehend the change that came over them. All they appeared to be discussing was standing up for better school cafeteria lunches. Was that something worth spying on? Were these potential new recruits or something and if so, were these dark shadows something that foretold death? Because right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were playing tag, you’re it.
Could I only see them because I’d died once already?
And why was I utterly certain that these particular shadows had everything and nothing to do with that lab I’d found? Something about them called to me. Maybe that was part of their danger. So close now, just six or seven feet away from me. Clawing at the grass, pulling their smoky bodies along. Their features were obscured, but not by material or any sort of hood. They were hidden by the same smoky substance that made up their bodies. The claws could still rake massive holes in the ground, gouging out earth and grass, leaving definite traces behind. Still, I was the only one who apparently saw them.
And they knew it. Even as they converged on me, the whispers began to hit my mind. Sibilant, suggestive, and just beyond my reach of comprehension.
The cloud blew past the sun, and the last of its rays reached through to me, expelling the claws that reached toward me for the few moments of light left. Not even one blew away to reveal metal appendages. Not one of them appeared truly corporeal.
This was getting a bit too surreal. Not caring about the damned assignment, I pushed myself away from the tree, ignited my energy with a burst of power, and ran through their almost invisible forms and through the group of gathered students at a dead run.
Warning. Assignment is incomplete.
I didn’t answer it. I didn’t direct anything at it. It didn’t sound the same as the buddy voice I talked to all the time, and it didn’t matter. I wasn’t staying around to find out what the hell those creatures were, whether I was alive, dead, or somewhere in-between. Not now, not until I had more comprehension of this new life, of my new abilities, and where I stood in this whole mess.
Injecting shots of electricity into my body, I fled as fast as I could. My feet flew over the ground, barely touching it, and still I could hear those voices, speaking to me, pleading with me, trying to lure me closer—the meaning of their words just out of reach.
I ran blindly, attempting to shut the noise out and just get to somewhere with more people. Campus was far too deserted at this time of night.
Warning. Return to your assignment.
Ignoring it became easier. Finally, I hit Walnut and the buzz of evening traffic. People and cars were everywhere. Almost seven at night on a Friday, in the cool breeze of spring. Perfect weather for everyone to breathe and let loose after such a harsh winter. I stopped at a halal kebab stand and pulled out some bills with trembling hands. They were crumpled and cold, old and smelled like they’d been in a pile of dirty laundry. But they were tangible and so was the lamb kebab I devoured, and the tahini that dripped down my chin.
I gulped in breaths afterward, downing the spare water bottle I always kept in my backpack. My adrenaline was still going strong, still pushing me farther, wanting me to run. I was closer to home than I realized, and while my legs felt weary, I let my sense of neighborhood knowledge drag me toward home. Almost trancelike, I watched the city pass me by. No weird shadow monsters, no strange whisperings that I couldn’t quite grasp. Just the bustle of traffic, lights, and people enjoying a Friday night.
Sure, it was earlier th
an I wanted to come home, but hey. Maybe I’d take this time to sit down with my friends and actually appreciate the new lease on life I’d received. A new sense of relief ran through my system and I smiled as I opened the glass door downstairs. My key stuck slightly as I pulled it out, and I laughed, releasing a tiny bit of that pent-up energy. The lamb kebab in my stomach made me feel warm and cozy and more inclined to understand how worried my friends had been. My head was still on my electric high, powered to the max, feeling invincible.
I staggered up the stairs, only just beginning to realize how tired I was, and pushed my key into the lock at the top of the landing. Except as I pushed it open, I felt a wave of nausea sweep over me. It was so huge, so all-encompassing that I fell into the room. My stomach cramped in ways I couldn’t even imagine existed, and my entire body felt as though I was being shocked with my own power. I shook against the ground, smashing my head into the wood over and over again.
I tried to grab onto my power, but I couldn’t reach it, couldn’t catch it. I tasted blood on my lips, down my throat, and ultimately the room began to spin with tinges of red interspersing it. It wasn’t the room I wanted to see, it wasn’t even the room I’d lived in for the last few years, but a cave with shadows bleeding in from every edge of it.
Voices peppered around my awareness like they were light years away, and my head grew heavy. I think I was still shaking, convulsing, but I couldn’t even tell where the floor ended and I began anymore. I coughed, tasting blood again, mixed with bile. And finally, with one last heavy spasm, I smashed my head so hard, the pain knocked me out.
I woke to the feeling of dried blood on my lips, the taste of it lingered in the back of my throat no matter how much I tried to swallow. My body ached in ways I didn’t understand, in areas I didn’t realize could ache.
