by Simon Curtis
“Okay, okay. I promise.” He took another step and waited for her to come out.
A silent moment passed. Then the door handle turned, and out stepped Aaron, wearing a T-shirt and gym shorts.
“This might scare you. To be honest, it’s scaring me.”
“What are you—”
“Just watch.”
Aaron lifted her hands slightly and closed her eyes.
After a few seconds, he realized her hair was growing longer by the second, her nose changing shape completely. The process stopped, and he looked at her, dumbfounded.
“What was that?” he asked. His mouth hung open.
“I don’t know.” Her eyes welled with tears as she spoke. “My whole life I’ve seen something different from my reflection whenever I look in a mirror, and while you were gone just now—” Her voice faltered, and she took a breath. “My body just started changing with my thoughts. I don’t know how to explain it. Watch.”
She ran her fingers down her new long hair and it instantly shifted from black to red and then to an iridescent shade of pink. With a quick shake, it went back to black.
He didn’t know what to say. There were no words.
“I need you here while I try this.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. After a few moments her entire body began to change in front of him. Her shoulders slimmed, her nose grew narrower, and breasts began to lift beneath the fabric of her T-shirt. More and more parts of her body began to shift and remold themselves right in front of him. Everything about her was a shifting mirage, glistening and changing. She opened her eyes and a soft, pink glow began to fade from them as her body stopped shifting.
She stared at him in terror, waiting for him to react.
His eyes welled with tears. “It’s you,” he said.
Tears filled her eyes as well. “It’s me.”
• • •
They drove around a few more days, slowly making their way back toward home. He didn’t know what had happened to them, but he knew they needed to get back to Pastor Martin’s house, get the money from the fund started after Aunt Janet’s murder, and start a new life.
Surely Pastor Martin would be glad to be rid of them forever.
He pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.
“Are you sure you want to go in like this?” He looked at Aaron in her new body. She could change everything about her physical appearance at will now, but the current iteration was the real her.
“I’m never going any other way again.”
He gave her a small smile, and they got out of the car.
• • •
They stepped into the kitchen just as Pastor Martin finished praying over their meal. Thomas, Michael, and Elijah sat around the table with their heads bowed. Pastor Martin saw him first.
“Boy, where have you be—”
Then he saw her.
Their chairs all slid back from the table as they stood and got a full look at her new appearance. She was completely different, but they knew damn well who they were looking at.
Pastor Martin’s mouth was open. A look of shock, terror, and disgust swept over his face.
“The devil is in my house.”
“Pastor Martin, we just want to pack our things and leave,” he said.
“And our money. The money that was raised for us after Aunt Janet died,” Aaron said in her new voice.
This pushed Pastor Martin over the edge.
“Your money?” His eyes went wild in rage. “Your money? Who do you think paid for your groceries, and your clothes, and everything else it took to raise you little demons after she died?”
His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“Do you honestly think I paid for anything? That I took money that I needed to raise my boys to care for you degenerate orphans?” He shook as he screamed. “You killed your mother when you crawled out of her and sucked away her sister’s ability to love anything else in this world. You honestly think that I would let you little parasites drain me and my boys as well?”
He turned abruptly and bolted from the room.
“You and the faggot need to leave now,” Thomas said from the other side of the table.
“What did you call me?” Aaron’s eyes glowered.
“You heard me.”
In one quick step Aaron reached over the table, grabbed him by the neck, and dragged him across it. Plates shattered and food spilled onto the floor as his feet scraped over the surface. Aaron effortlessly held him up by his throat like a doll.
The sound of a gun cocking interrupted them.
“Put him down and get out. Now.” Pastor Martin held a small pistol, aimed at Aaron.
Slowly, she set Thomas back on the floor as he sputtered and gasped for breath.
Thomas clasped his throat and gulped. “Faggot,” he whispered.
Her fist collided with his face so hard it sent him flying back over the table and into the wall. His head sank into the plaster and the crack of his arm breaking against the countertop was like a gunshot.
Then Pastor Martin fired. A real gunshot tore through the room, and Aaron stumbled back, blood spraying from the top of her chest as the bullet ripped into her.
He watched in horror as his sister fell to the ground and blood pooled around her. The strange electricity that he’d been feeling for days welled up inside of him. His fingertips tingled. He turned and lunged for Pastor Martin, seizing him by the throat.
At his touch Pastor Martin’s body went limp. Every fiber of his being felt malleable. His movement, his breathing—every single function inside Pastor Martin’s body felt connected to his fingertips.
Even his heartbeat.
Anger and sorrow and a lifetime of pain coursed through him as he took control of Pastor Martin’s heart—a heart filled with hatred, spite, malice, and jealousy. He stared into Pastor Martin’s eyes. This was the man who had kept him and his twin sister in fear because she’d dared to be born different, the man who had sent her away to a torture camp because he’d refused to understand her, the man who’d abused Aunt Janet and drained the light from her smile, the man who had squandered away their inheritance.
Elijah and Michael screamed for their brother and father, but he didn’t care. Aaron, his whole world, was lying on the ground, her life bleeding out onto the kitchen floor. He wasn’t going to let Pastor Martin get away with what he’d done.
He felt every pump, every beat, every pulse of warm blood flowing in and out of the chambers in Pastor Martin’s heart—and he stopped it.
Leave her alone.
Just like that, he was dead.
He removed his hand from Pastor Martin’s neck and watched the corpse collapse on the tile.
Elijah and Michael howled and ran to their father’s side as he went to Aaron’s body and fell to his knees. Hot, angry tears poured from deep inside of him. He grasped her still hand in his and clutched it to his chest.
It twitched.
He opened his eyes and wiped away the tears as Aaron began to stir. Panic and hope raced through his mind all at once, and before he could release his grip on her hand, her eyes opened.
She gave a faint smile and lifted herself up off the ground, helping him to his feet as well.
Elijah knelt by his father’s lifeless body, weeping, and Michael’s voice echoed from the living room. He was calling an ambulance. Thomas’s body still lay in a crumpled heap by the wall.
Aaron led the way out of the kitchen and back out the front door. They sat down in the car, and Aaron flicked on the overhead light. She flipped the vanity mirror down and pulled the collar of her blood-soaked T-shirt. They both watched as the last remaining portion of the bullet wound healed. The open patch of skin sealed up before their eyes.
She began to laugh and cry at the same time.
He gave her hand a squeeze and pulled out of the driveway.
• • •
As they crossed the bridge over the river, past the pyramid and all the buil
dings downtown, he looked over and saw Aaron staring out the window, watching everything pass by.
“Jesus loves me, this I know
For the Bible tells me so
Little ones to him belong
They are weak, but he is strong
Yes, Jesus loves me
Yes, Jesus loves me
Yes, Jesus loves me
The Bible tells me so.”
Her voice faltered at the end.
CHAPTER 6
ISAAK
Light and air surge back into me. I’m lying on the ground, in the dirt, with my head in Azure’s hands.
Azure.
I try to scramble away from her in fear. The last thing I can remember is her attacking me with her Taser.
“Shh. Calm down.” She holds me firmly in place as I try to get away, small rocks biting into the meat of my hands. “Everything is okay, Isaak. Calm down.”
I look around and see Kamea and JB hovering over her shoulder, watching me wake up. A bit of relief bubbles up in my stomach.
“What happened? Why did you attack me?”
My voice feels caked in dirt.
“She didn’t attack you, Isaak,” Kamea says. “She knocked you out so the drone wouldn’t pick up your electrical signature.”
“As soon as she put you down she had Kamea knock her out along with you, if you can believe it,” JB says.
I start to sit up. The rocks hurt underneath my tailbone.
“What was it?”
“It was an SHRF drone,” Azure says, grabbing my hand to help lift me up to my feet. “They’re scanning the area for abnormal electrical activity. That’s why we had to be knocked out: Our bioelectrical output is nearly that of a human’s while we’re asleep.”
“Once you guys were out, we hid you in that lava tube,” Kamea says, pointing to the opening of a small cave a few yards away from us. “We kept walking like we were hikers and waited for the drone to leave the area.”
“How long were we out?”
“About four hours,” Kamea says.
I groan. “We’re going to have to camp again, aren’t we?”
“Not if we can get to the visitor center before sunset,” Kamea says. “That drone stayed here way too long. This place isn’t the safe haven it used to be. At least if we get on the road, we should be able to make our way to a safe house and hide for a bit. I know of one only an hour from here.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” I spot the nearest cairn in the distance and start walking.
“Isaak,” JB calls over to me as I trudge away. “This way.”
I look at him as he nods over his shoulder in the opposite direction. I turn and follow the others as they start our long march in the correct direction. JB gives me a small grin and follows behind me. I look around for the lava tube so I can go crawl inside and die.
• • •
The sandstone bluffs rise up before us in the distance. The sun is sitting low and orange in the sky, and I can’t tell if we’re going to make it.
We don’t.
By the time we get to the rocky base of the cliffs, the sun has started to set. Kamea says that most day hikers would already be back at their cars by now and that we missed our window for stealing one. We’re going to have to camp again.
My back aches in protest.
We climb up into the rocks until we come to a wide, flat landing hidden between a pair of massive sandstone boulders, and decide to set up camp. The ground is soft and sandy, much better than the ground we slept on last night. Azure goes back down to collect firewood as Kamea takes a moment to stretch by her tent. I spot a trail in the rocks behind one of the boulders and decide to explore a bit.
The gap between the boulder and the cliffside is narrow, but I squeeze myself through, round the corner of the cliff, and come upon a breathtaking view. A ledge juts out in front of me, perched above the entire valley. The sun is setting in the distance and everything is awash in soft, golden light. I cautiously approach the edge and try to not look down. My knees are shaky from the height, but I manage to sit.
I settle in, my feet dangling off the edge, and look out at the view. The sky is a stunning swirl of orange and rose and violet, and I feel like I can see miles out ahead of us. An endless, flat expanse of brown dirt, black lava rocks, crooked desert pines all trail out into the horizon.
I lean over and reach into my back pocket to pull out my journal. I slide the pen from its nook in the spine and start writing.
Clinging on to daylight
Basking in the sun
Holding on to grains of sand
That, through my fingers, run
Melting in the sunset
The day it fades to night
The petals of a flower
Curl in without the light
But frost that settles on the land
In white and black and blue
Will wither under softer rays
And melt to morning dew
For with the dawn the sun will rise
The cycle starts anew
And like the ever-changing Earth
I shall be changed too
“Isn’t this amazing?”
JB rounds the cliff face behind me, his feet crunching in the gravelly sand. He doesn’t even flinch as he approaches the ledge and sits down next to me.
“It’s incredible.”
His leg casually bumps into mine as he settles in. “What’re you writing?”
“Oh, nothing important. I just write poems sometimes.” I fidget with the journal and wish I weren’t holding it. “It’s stupid.”
“That’s not stupid at all,” he says, looking at me. “I think that makes you really intriguing.”
I don’t know how to reply. He looks back out to the view.
Everything is silent around us except for the wind.
“Thank you, by the way,” he says. “Kamea told me what happened. If it weren’t for you, I would still be tied up in that warehouse. I might even be dead. You saved me.”
“I don’t think I can take the credit for that.”
“Of course you can.”
I fixate on a pair of rabbits running through the brush below, hoping to avoid direct eye contact.
“Isaak, they never would’ve found me if it weren’t for you. I owe you. More than you realize.”
The warm wind starts to cool as the sun sets even lower. I stare out at the mountains in the distance, purple in the fading light.
“I used to have a view like this back home,” I say, trying to combat the awkward silence. “I mean, not anything like this, but it made me feel the same way.”
“How does it make you feel?”
I can feel his eyes on me.
“Like the world is more than me, more than us. Like there’s this whole magical, vast expanse of wonder out there that we never take the time to appreciate. Like if we all stopped to have moments like these, to look at views like this, the world would be a better place. Sometimes it’s good to step back and realize how small and insignificant you are in the grand scheme of things. It forces you to not take anything for granted. It’s what I imagine standing at the edge of the ocean is like.”
“You think you’re insignificant?”
“I don’t mean it as a negative thing. I just think it’s important to maintain a sense of wonder, if that makes any sense.”
“It does.”
His leg inches in closer to mine. They’re fully touching now. I look over at him. His eyes are like sapphires in the copper light.
“You have a really beautiful soul, Isaak,” he says. His voice is hushed and his shoulders lean in to me ever so slightly.
“Do I even have a soul?” A nervous laugh slips out. I can feel a blush rising up to my cheeks.
“I don’t think anyone without a soul could be as special as you are.”
He leans in closer to me. His lips are full and I can feel heat radiating from him. None of us have showered since the day before yesterday, b
ut he smells amazing. Like pine and sweat and man. The blood drains from my cheeks.
“You think I’m special?”
My palms are sweaty. He gives the smallest of his painfully perfect grins as he puts his hand on my leg and leans in further. “I think you’re very, very special.”
His hand slips up my thigh to the side of my back. His muscled arm effortlessly pulls me in to his chest, and he angles his face. I feel his breath on my lips and brace myself for my first real kiss.
“JB,” Kamea announces her presence behind us.
I jump and slide out of JB’s arms. I can feel my face going white. I place my journal over my lap so she can’t see what’s obviously happening in my pants.
“Yes?” JB says flatly.
“You have the lighter. We need it to start the fire.”
Kamea doesn’t sound too happy, either.
“I’ll just go do it,” he says, pushing himself up to his feet. “Don’t stay out here too long, kid.”
I turn and watch him round the corner and go back down to camp with Kamea. Neither of them speaks to the other.
Kid.
He’s not even that much older than me.
• • •
The next morning I sit in front of the rekindled fire, warming my hands over the flames. Everything is gray and blue in the dim light before sunrise. The night’s frost has me chilled to the bone.
JB is boiling water to make oatmeal, while Kamea breaks down their tent.
“All right, who is ready for flavorless slop?” he says, his voice still raspy from sleep.
“Sounds delicious,” I say, expressionless. My eyes feel puffy from two nights of unfulfilling sleep. “But I think I might miss those eggs from yester—”
“Be quiet.” Azure’s voice is hushed and firm. Something is wrong.
We all go still.
She’s standing at the far edge of our camp, next to one of the large boulders, peering down the trail behind us.
I strain to hear anything.
“What is it?” I whisper.
“Shh!”
Then I hear it.
A faint thudding and a soft, metallic chime echoes in the rocks around us, like a delicate set of gears shifting.
I stand up as the noise gets closer.
JB and Kamea look at each other, puzzled. They must not be able to hear it yet.
