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Cobblestone Press
www.cobblestone-press.com
Copyright ©2008 by Georgia Tribell
First published in 2008
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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CONTENTS
Dedication
May 22, 2507 AD
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Author Bio
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Windhandler
Copyright© 2008 Georgia Tribell
ISBN: 978-1-60088-233-3
Cover Artist: Simon Boxer
Editor: Barbara Louise
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
Cobblestone Press, LLC
www.cobblestone-press.com
Dedication
Thank you, Mom, for all the support, humor, strength, courage, and unconditional love you gave me. This one is for you, and you will always be missed.
[Back to Table of Contents]
May 22, 2507 AD
Hundreds of years after the population of Earth was decimated by a meteor, American survivors reclaimed the United States and divided it into thirteen colonies, or territories, as it was in the original birth of their nation. In this new world, people developed the ability to manipulate nature's elements. Some see this new capability as an asset. Others, however, see it as the work of the devil and believe society must be cleansed.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter One
The rain fell so hard, Dustin Martinez's window-cleaner was of little use this morning. If he weren't due at an early meeting at the Special Powers Division headquarters, he would have rolled over and gone back to sleep when his alarm went off. Now, he wished he had.
He cursed as a large utility-glider cut in front of him, causing him to slam on his brakes and skid on the slick road. He started moving again and watched the crazy driver dart in and out of traffic as they approached the bridge spanning Lake Lanner.
The utility-glider cut in front of a student-transporter and hit the front of the transporter. The clipped vehicle lost air traction on the wet road and went into a slide, ramming into the utility-glider. The two vehicles crashed into the rail. The glider tilted toward the lake and appeared to hang in midair for several seconds before it fell into the dark, fatal meteor water below.
Dustin steered his glider to the side of the road and jumped out as the transporter came to a precarious stop half on, half off the bridge. Darting around cars, he ran toward the transporter as it tilted toward the black, murky liquid below. Screams filled the air, sending a chill up his spine.
Leaning over the rail, he held his hands out in front of him and used his powers to create a small whirlwind of air to keep the vehicle from sliding off. The wind tunnel touched the inky water and sucked up the deadly liquid.
Glancing back to the transporter, he noted that it was no longer descending toward the lake. But it also wasn't moving back toward the street.
It would take a much larger burst of air to get the vehicle back on solid ground, but he couldn't increase the size of the wind tunnel. If he did, the poisonous, black water would rain down on them all. Even the smallest amount of this inky liquid coming into contact with one's skin could kill. It wasn't worth the risk.
"Get the children off the transporter,” Dustin yelled over his shoulder.
People stood frozen in place, though whether their shock was due to the horrible sight of the transporter full of children teetering on the edge of the bridge or his use of his powers, he didn't know. Either way, he couldn't do it all by himself. The student-transporter shuddered, and for a heart-stopping moment, he thought it would fall. Then, miraculously, it moved ever so slightly back onto the bridge.
"I've got it. Get the children off."
Dustin turned at the distinctively female voice. The woman was tall, but so thin she looked as if the strong wind would blow her right off the bridge. Rain plastered dark hair to her face.
"Are you sure you can hold it?” If she couldn't, the children would plunge to their deaths.
"Yes! Just hurry!"
He watched her as he reduced the whirlwind. At the same time, the woman increased her pull on the transporter to keep it nice and steady. This woman was one hell of a MetalShaper, but he didn't have time to ponder the fact as he ran to the back of the vehicle.
Opening the door, he jumped up on the bumper and yelled, “Everyone, move this way! We need the weight on this end."
He helped two of the older students off first and instructed them to gather the rest in a group away from the vehicle. He picked up a small girl in a pink dress and turned to drop her to the pavement. Thankfully, his action motivated other bystanders, and he was able to pass the child down safely. One by one, the children exited the student-transporter until only he and the driver remained.
Dustin glanced over at the MetalShaper and noted the strain on her face. He looked back at the driver. “The children are off, come on. We need to hurry."
"My left leg and ankle are broken. I can't make it!"
Dustin moved toward the man. His weight in the almost empty transporter caused it to slip toward the water below.
"No! I can't hold it!” The woman's voice carried to him above the pounding rain.
He froze and backed up to the open door. “Can you get yourself into the aisle and lie down?"
"I think so.” After several loud curses and slow movements, the man accomplished his task.
Dustin squatted down and created a small layer of wind that raised the man about two inches off the floor. Slowly, he forced the bottom layer of wind toward the driver as he pulled the top portion to himself, creating a conveyor belt effect.
"Can you hurry it up?” Fatigue and stress laced the woman's voice.
"I'm going as fast as I can,” he called back.
"You need to move faster."
"Almost done.” He sped up the airflow. It seemed to take forever for the man to reach him. The vehicle tilted, and he knew they were running out of time.
"Get off! Get out now!” The woman's voice sounded above the scream of emergency vehicles.
The transporter started a slow slide toward the water. The screech of metal against metal filled the air. Dustin grabbed the man under the armpits and jumped out backwards. He landed hard on the street with the driver beside him and watched as the transporter fell from the railing and plunged to the water below. It wasn't the best exit or landing he'd ever made, but it was one of the timeliest.
He looked over at the old man. “How are you?"
"I'm alive. So, I'm thinking I'm damn good. Thank you."
Dustin rolled to his feet as medics converged on the driver and cut o
ff their conversation. He understood how the man felt. Dustin knew he would be sore as hell tomorrow, but he wasn't complaining.
Turning, he scanned the area and spotted the children huddled together as two police officers spoke with them. He walked over to the group, knowing he'd need to give a statement. His stomach tightened in anticipation of talking to the woman who'd so boldly helped. It took a hell of a lot of courage to do what she had done.
As he approached, he surveyed the crowd again before he stopped beside the children. “The woman, the MetalShaper, where is she?"
One of the first two children off the student-transporter spoke up. “I was standing next to her when the transporter fell. When I looked back to thank her, she was gone."
Dustin turned and ran to the top of the bridge. He scanned both sides but couldn't see the woman. He cursed as he walked back the direction he'd come. He couldn't shake the sense of great disappointment in not meeting her.
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Lexi Corbitt didn't stop walking until she'd put six blocks between her and the accident. Rain still fell in sheets as she walked up to the next solar-bus stop and waited. Her clothes were wet all the way to her skin, but she barely noticed. The only thing registering with her at the moment was the extreme fatigue swamping her body.
She changed solar-buses four times before getting off six blocks past her normal stop. Every block, she checked behind her to see if anyone who'd been at the scene of the accident was following her. She'd spent years on the run, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone noticed her not because she wanted to, but because she had to. Her life depended on remaining anonymous and staying off the media's radar.
The remaining distance to her apartment building wasn't far, but she was so exhausted from the energy she'd expended she could barely stand. She could deal with the discomfort, however, so long as her carefully built career and identity weren't jeopardized. It had taken her years to reach this degree of financial and physical security, and she didn't know what she'd do if she had to start over.
When she finally reached the door to her building and entered the lobby, her legs felt as if there were fifty-pound weights tied to each, but she forced herself to cross the room to the lift. She was almost there when she heard her name being called. Turning, she watched the building manager approach.
"Morning, Ms. Corbitt, I'm so glad I caught you."
Lexi forced a smile. “I'm sorry, Mrs. Haywood, but I'm soaked. Can we talk later?"
"I'm afraid not. Your morning escapade is all over the news."
Damn, Lexi thought as she pasted a smile to her face. “It is? How? No news cameras were there."
"A bystander took a video with a Portable Communicator Device.” The manager's voice was soft and caring.
So much for going unnoticed. Lexi ground her teeth and cursed the inventor of the PCD. Maybe Mrs. Haywood wanted to tell her what a great thing Lexi had done, but she wasn't counting on it. She shivered, reminding herself how very wet and cold she was. “What did you want?"
"The building rules state very clearly we don't rent to those with abilities above the acceptable normal levels."
Lexi sighed. From past experience, she knew this was only the start of the downward spiral her life was about to take. “I remember."
Mrs. Haywood held out a sheet of paper, and Lexi took it. “You have twenty-four hours to leave. After that, your access code will be changed."
"Twenty-four hours.” She scanned the paper.
"If it were up to me, you wouldn't be leaving. You are a hero, my dear, but my hands are tied."
"Thank you.” There wasn't anything else to say as Mrs. Haywood turned and walked away.
Lexi wadded up the sheet and shoved it into the pocket of her raincoat as she made her way to her apartment. Today was supposed to be a well-deserved day off, and all she wanted was to go downtown and eat breakfast at a café before visiting the fine arts museum. Now, it looked like she would spend the day apartment hunting and packing instead.
If she'd driven instead of taking the public system, odds were she'd have avoided the wreck and she wouldn't be in this mess. Of course, then an entire transporter of children would have gone into Lake Lanner, killing all aboard. Moving wasn't such a big deal when she thought of it that way.
After showering and putting on warm clothes, she turned on her ViewScreen and was immediately assaulted with her image. She watched several minutes of the video and listened to the commentary before turning it off. She went to the kitchen and rummaged until she came up with a half eaten box of chocolates. Opening the box, she popped a piece into her mouth and started chewing. It wasn't even noon, but with the way her day had started, she figured she deserved the treat. Taking the box with her, she went to the kitchen table where her Household Computer was located. Putting another piece of chocolate into her mouth, she pulled up listings for apartment rentals and started her search.
The image of the WindHandler popped into her mind. His chiseled features, extraordinary powers, and self-confidence were amazing. She couldn't help but wonder if he was having as crappy a day as she was.
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Chapter Two
Dustin watched the morning's events on the office ViewScreen one more time. The person who took the video hadn't started recording until after Dustin was on the transporter. Which was a good thing for him and his job. It wasn't good for the woman who'd helped save all those kids.
People with extra powers didn't advertise the fact on the evening news because the general population could be very cruel. More than once, the mob mentality overtook otherwise sane people, and they attacked those with extra powers. The thought of this woman being victimized caused an unnatural feeling of panic to flow through him.
"Have we managed to identify the woman yet? With her picture all over the news, it won't be long before they have a name."
Dustin's partner and friend, Grady O'Brien, looked up from his desk. “No. We ran her image through our face recognition program but nothing popped. Now, we're running it by other agencies."
"Alora, have you noticed how she's dressed?” Miranda, Grady's wife pointed to the screen.
Grady's sister, Alora, turned and studied the picture. “She's wearing Meteor Design clothing from head to toe."
"Which tells us what?” Dustin asked.
"Meteor Design is a local business, very exclusive. You can only buy items at the Meteor Design Studio and Store,” Miranda said.
"You might be able to get an ID from the owner or a sales clerk,” Alora added.
Dustin printed off the best image of the rain-soaked woman. “Where is the store located?"
Miranda scribbled the address on a sheet of paper and handed it to him.
He picked up the picture and stood. “I'm going to try to track her down."
"Let us know what you find out,” Grady called as he turned back to his computer screen.
Dustin gave a noncommittal grunt as he walked out of the building. In his mind, he kept seeing the look on her face toward the end of their ordeal. The amount of energy required to do what she had done must have wiped her out. The few times he'd maxed his powers, the effort left him almost comatose for hours. He glanced up at the sky as he drove across town toward the upscale shopping district. It was still drizzling, and it was now well after noon.
All the solar slots outside the line of stores were full so he was forced to park over a block away. It started to rain in earnest when he was halfway to the store, only adding to his crappy day. Heads turned as he entered the upscale store. He was definitely out of his territory.
A smiling young woman approached. “The sporting goods store is next door."
Dustin smiled back as he smoothed his damp hair. “I know. I'm looking for the store owner."
"She's not here today. I'm her assistant. Maybe I can help you?"
Dustin pulled his badge and the picture from his pocket. He flashed the ID before holding the picture up. “I'm looking for
this woman. Do you know her?"
The woman paled, swallowed, and glanced nervously around the store.
"This is a formal investigation.” He added enough hardness to his voice to let the woman know he wasn't joking.
"Could we talk outside?"
"Sure.” Dustin held the door, and the two of them stepped out under the small awning, just out of the rain.
"This is Lexi Corbitt. She's the owner of Meteor Designs. Is she hurt?"
"No, she's fine. This morning, she did a very brave thing. We have a few more questions we'd like to ask her."
"Oh, thank goodness. For a moment I thought something bad might have happened to her."
He didn't miss the slight note of panic in the woman's voice and understood immediately this woman considered Ms. Corbitt a friend. Or at least he hoped so. “Can you tell me how to contact her?"
"Yes, I can."
Dustin took down Lexi Corbitt's address and PCD number. He held the door for the assistant before heading back to his car through the rain. Ms. Corbitt's apartment was only a few blocks away. With any luck, he could make it there before the assistant called her and she had time to prepare for his visit.
His communicator blared a classic rock song, the signal that Grady was attempting to contact him. “Connect.” The one word patched the call through the solar-glider's hands-free system. “Whatcha got for me?"
"We've ID'ed the woman. She's..."
"Lexi Corbitt,” Dustin cut his partner off. “The owner of Meteor Design clothing company."
"Damn, you're good. We might actually keep you around a while longer. So, what high tech method did you use to get the information?"
Dustin gave a short chuckle. “I talked with one of her employees. And you?"
"Heard it on the news."
"Damn, we're good."
Grady laughed on the other end.
"I'm a block from her apartment. Figured I'd drop in and see if she's home.” Dustin slowed on the wet street as he rounded a corner.
"You should know the story is now airing in all the colonies."
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