“Chris,” his father yells from a distance.
Jo Jo’s concerned voice sounds from the other side of the hedge. “Are you all right, Chris?”
Chris coughs and spits, then stands up. His legs shake as electrifying sensations race up and down his bones. He examines his forearms. They’re covered with gashes and bleeding lacerations from his wrists to his elbows. Ouch!
I think back to when I won the 100m and what my body felt like afterward—nothing similar to this. Then again, I wasn’t actually experiencing the emergence of the running ability. Maetha had enchanted me with speed . . . or something like that.
Chris lets himself out onto the sidewalk through the nearby gate. His father jogs toward him and stops in front of Jo Jo where the ball has come to a rest.
“I’m fine,” Chris says, embarrassed. He doesn’t know what just happened or why he’s experiencing such awkward impulses and unsettling stomach issues.
Stanley bends down and picks up the ball. For a long moment he just stares at it. Then his eyes meet Chris’s. Something about his expression causes Chris to shrink inside. “No, Chris,” Stanley says with slow deliberation. “No, you’re not fine.”
Two men cross the street, walking briskly toward us. Through Chris’s eyes, I recognize them as Hunters even though they are dressed nicely and are clean shaven. They could pass for undercover cops. Chris, however, only sees their overly large noses.
The taller of the two says to Chris, “Young man that was an impressive run you just made. We’d like to talk to you.”
Stanley steps forward. “Excuse me, I don’t know what you think you saw, but this boy was about to head home, weren’t you?” He nods his head in Chris’s direction, giving a firm hint to leave and go home.
Chris looks over at Jo Jo who has her expressionless gaze set on the two men.
Chris takes a shaky step forward. The taller man juts his hand in front of Chris and stops him. “I don’t think you understand, son. We need to talk to you right now.”
Stanley steps forward, taking an intimidating stance. “Take your hand off the boy. Who exactly are you? And how did you find him so fast?”
The Hunter removes his hand from Chris’s shoulder. “Do you know this man?” he asks Chris.
“He’s my dad.”
“Oh, well that’s even better,” the Hunter says and then looks to his partner and nods.
The other Hunter moves his hand as if he might be going for a weapon or gun stashed under his jacket, but then freezes. I recognize the freeze from the time Maetha froze everyone in Justin Macintyre’s building. At first, I wonder if Maetha is nearby and invisible, but then I remember Jo Jo—aka Crimson—is standing on the other side of the roses. Maybe she has the same ability as Maetha.
Chris looks from the frozen Hunter to his father and wonders why his dad said: “How did you find him so fast?”
A tall, athletic young man appears out of nowhere, followed by a gust of air which rustles everyone’s hair with the exception of Stanley’s buzz-cut. I find it interesting how Chris and Stanley react to the sudden arrival, but I understand this man is a Runner and he has just come to an abrupt halt after running. He stands by Stanley and addresses the Hunters. “Not this time, guys.”
Stanley takes a step away from the Runner in complete shock. I wonder what he must be thinking.
“You’re too late. We got here first,” the taller Hunter states defiantly. He turns to his frozen counterpart and demands: “What are you waiting for?”
The second Hunter slowly and awkwardly moves his arm forward. He seems to be distressed and confused as to why his arm is doing what it’s doing.
“What’s the matter with you?”
“I don’t know!” the obviously mind-controlled Hunter shouts.
The Runner extends his hand to Chris, “Come with me, I’ll protect you.”
Stanley, rushes to Chris and grabs his upper arm. “He’s not going with anyone but me.”
“And you are . . . ” the Runner asks.
Chris looks up at his father, waiting for him to speak. Stanley appears to be struggling with what to say. Chris speaks up: “He’s my dad.”
“Oh, well then, we need to go somewhere safe. Do you live around here?” the Runner asks Stanley.
Chris glances over at the two Hunters. Both of them seem to be frozen in place. I feel Chris’s confusion over their behavior as another wave of nausea tosses his stomach around.
“Sir,” the Runner says emphatically. “We need to go somewhere safe where you can call the police if these two Hunters decide to fight for your son. I can then explain to you what just happened with him.”
“I already know what happened.” Stanley remains rooted to his location on the sidewalk.
Chris’s stomach winds up for an encore performance. I completely understand his desire to be inside a locked bathroom when he vomits again.
Jo Jo says to Chris, “This is a good man. Take him to your house, Chris.” I recognized Jo Jo’s voice sounding within Chris’s mind, but he thinks she’s actually speaking to him.
“Come with me,” Chris says to the Runner, as he hurries past the frozen Hunters and his dad.
“Chris, what are you doing?” Stanley yells at him.
“Are you coming, Dad?” Chris doesn’t wait to see if his father follows. His nauseous tummy only has just so long before it erupts again.
The Runner follows Chris. “What’s your name, son?”
“Chris Harding.”
“I’m Ivan Bjorn.”
Chris cuts across the front lawn and takes the steps two at a time. He uses great effort to control the movement of his tingling legs. The last thing he wants is to have a repeat occurrence of the crazy uncontrollable run that started this whole mess. He holds the front door open for Ivan. “This is my house. Take a seat, I need to use the bathroom. Sorry.”
Chris’s memories of the events that follow are patchy. I figure they are unimportant, except for his father’s reaction to the whole event. Stanley doesn’t look Chris in the eye, won’t refer to him as his son, or ask Mr. Bijorn any questions about the Runners. Stanley already seems to know about as much as he wants to know. Chris’s young mind is crushed by his father’s behavior.
My knowledge of General Stanley Harding helps me fill in the blanks. I understand why he acts the way he does. I know what he’s been studying at his compound. My heart aches for Chris.
Chris’s memories jump forward to his arrival at the Runner’s compound. Clara Winter isn’t the leader yet. Instead the leader is a man named Joseph Grimly, who is a lot nicer to the girls than the boys. Chris doesn’t like him. He isn’t the only one.
Mr. Grimly sits in the office and informs Chris in a rather uncompassionate manner that he should simply accept his new reality. Concerning Shadow Demons, Mr. Grimly says: “If you don’t want to believe me, then be my guest and go walk into the shadows and find out for yourself.”
For a boy Chris’s age, conflicted with hormones, having only recently exhibited a freakish display of super-human speed, ripped away from his mother’s compassion, and dumped in the office of a heartless, insensitive leader of the Runner’s Clan, I think Chris takes it pretty well.
Chris’s memory pushes forward to a point when the youngest Runners are sent home while a transition takes place within the compound. Chris is excited because his father has invited him to go to Denver for a week. Chris looks forward to spending time with his dad.
I experience the day Chris first enters the military compound in Colorado. He is introduced as Chris, not “my son.” The lack of personal attachment hurts Chris, as he realizes his father has labeled him certifiably abnormal.
Freedom . . . or Agent Alpha as Chris only knows him as . . . comes to greet Chris. “You look just like your old man.” Then Agent Alpha turns to Stanley and says, “Now, what are the odds of that happening? Your own flesh and blood becoming one of them.”
“Take him,” Stanley orders Agent Alpha. “Get h
im hooked up and draw his blood samples.”
Agent Alpha leads Chris to the laboratory and orders a female technician to do the bloodwork. “Once we’re done here, we’ll go record your speed on the treadmill.”
“I already know I run faster than sixty miles per hour.”
Agent Alpha says, “I already know that too, but as you are aware, some subjects are faster than others.”
“Subjects?”
“All the abnormal ones are called subjects. Not to worry, Chris. When we’re done with you, you’ll at least get to leave and go home. The other subjects aren’t so lucky.”
“What happens to them?”
“They are permanent residents of the compound. Relax, we take good care of them,” Agent Alpha says to Chris. I note that Chris senses things are not as hunky-dory as Agent Alpha would want him to think.
“Do you have any Runners here?” Chris’s head itches. He scratches his scalp.
“Why, are you worried, Chris?”
“No,” he answers defensively.
“I think you’re worried you might be discovered and revealed. If a captured Runner knew you were here helping your dad, they might rat you out.”
“How did you know I was thinking that? Are you a Reader?”
“No. Unlike you, I’m not abnormal.”
The technician proceeds to remove a blood sample from Chris’s arm. After she completes her job, Agent Alpha takes Chris to the treadmill room.
“All right, let’s see what you’re made of.” He indicates that Chris should get on the treadmill. Chris does. “Your speed will be registered on the equipment in the other room. Begin.”
Chris starts jogging at first to get a feel for the machine. Then he pours on the speed like any teenage boy wanting to show off. I experience what it actually feels like to be a Runner—exhilarating. It’s as though every cell in his body is lined up, ready to react, awaiting orders from his brain, then executing the order perfectly. Every muscle, tendon, and ligament co-exists in unity. Cartilage floats, cushioning every step. Each individual bone in his feet lines up in anticipation for the next movement ordered by his brain.
Even with the full diamond, I’ve never felt the same sensations as Chris does.
Chris glances through the open door and sees Agent Alpha and his father standing near a computer monitor. His father points to the screen and says something to Agent Alpha, who nods his head and looks at Chris.
“That’s enough, Chris,” Agent Alpha says in a raised voice.
Chris slows down, letting the treadmill slow as well. As the machine comes to a halt, he hears his father say: “The subject appears to be faster than any of our previous subjects.”
“Yes, but he’s also younger,” Agent Alpha adds.
“We’ll compare the subject’s DNA to the others and see if an alteration is occurring.”
Chris wonders, Why is he calling me a subject? I’m his son!
The following days are spent testing Chris’s reflexes, cognitive abilities, performing x-rays, CT scans, and further blood tests. Chris’s father continues to treat him as abnormal and a subject. Agent Alpha is the only person in the compound who will carry on conversations with Chris, but they appear to be only for Agent Alpha’s own gain.
At one point, Agent Alpha says, “Most thirteen-year-old boys hate their fathers. Why are you so attached?”
“I don’t know. I just want my dad back. Since my running powers came out, he treats me like I’m broken.”
“You think he doesn’t love you anymore?”
“I just wish everything would go back to normal.”
“If you want him to see you as his son again, offer to give him information about the Runners and what happens at the compound.”
“Be a spy?” Chris asks, definitely shocked by what Agent Alpha is suggesting.
“Look, you’re the one whining that your dad doesn’t pay attention to you anymore. You need to understand this—your defect scares him.”
“I’m not defected!”
“You are to him. So why don’t you make yourself useful and pass along information to him? You could give him something he doesn’t have right now—someone on the inside.”
“I’ll get kicked out of the compound if I get caught.”
“You can’t have this both ways. You can’t change the fact you’re a Runner, but you can help your father in his research. Besides, a good spy doesn’t get caught. But maybe you don’t have what it takes.”
Chris’s young mind can’t ignore the challenge Agent Alpha has laid in front of him. His mind yells: I do have what it takes! I’ll show my father I can still be his son and he can be proud of me.
Chris’s memories jump forward. He’s fifteen, taller, and more spirited. He sits in Clara Winter’s office with two other boys: Andrew and Jordan. His mind tells me Clara was voted into position after Mr. Grimly was kicked out of the clan for inappropriate conduct with a female Runner. Chris and the two boys are being interrogated for their involvement in a hazing accident that caused a clan member named Brett to have his hand bitten off by the Shadow Demons. Chris’s mind reveals he wasn’t directly involved, but he didn’t speak up or try to stop it either.
Clara’s demeanor is stern. “This is not a college dorm. We do not participate in initiation rites or hazing. Brett lost his hand because of idiotic behavior from the whole male population of this compound. This is completely unacceptable! You’re lucky he didn’t die.”
Jordan tries to defend the others. “But we weren’t the ones who forced Brett to reach into the dark. Why are we in trouble?”
“Because you didn’t alert me or any other leader to the danger.”
“Yeah, but then we’d get beaten up,” Andrew adds.
“Who’d beat you up?” Clara asks intently.
All three boys exchange worried glances with each other. No one speaks.
Clara says, “This is what I’m talking about. You are choosing to protect your own backsides instead of telling me who is bullying other Runners. I need to know who the trouble maker is so we can get back to becoming a functioning unit.”
No one speaks.
“Fine, go back to your rooms. Chris, send in the next three on your way out.”
The boys turn to leave the room. Chris holds back and sneakily hands a small folded piece of paper to Clara, making sure the other two don’t see.
On his way up to his room, Chris thinks about the names he’d written on the paper. He hopes Clara will follow his instructions to interview the rest of the boys before she singles out the troublemakers and dismisses them. He contemplates his duality. Clara doesn’t know he’s sending information to his father through coded messages. The group of thugs doesn’t know he’s just “ratted” them out. Agent Alpha was right. A good spy doesn’t get caught.
Clara is also right. The compound is not a college dorm. Since moving into the compound at age twelve, he’s never felt comfortable. He always looks forward to his “vacations” when he can go home to Kansas and be with his mother. He misses his neighborhood, his old stomping grounds, the familiarity with his surroundings. Of course, his friends avoid him whenever he goes home. Since his “accident” when his powers emerged, they’ve viewed him as a different kid entirely. However, Jo Jo, who saw the whole thing, hasn’t ever treated him any different. In fact, she seems to always know when he’s in town.
Chris realizes the bigger reason he likes going home is because he gets to spend time with Jo Jo. He believes she is a Reader because whenever she’s around his head itches. Her ability must be how she always knows he’s arrived home. Jo Jo is the only person Chris has ever told that he’s a spy for his father. He remembers a conversation where she recommended he tell Clara that he’s feeding information to his father. He hasn’t done that yet, but now might be a good time to do so, even knowing Clara might decide to include him in her “house-cleaning”, but maybe that would be for the best. If Clara will let him stay, he’ll work even harder to help build a st
able, supportive setting within the compound.
Chris decides to wait till tomorrow evening when things, hopefully, will have settled down from the earlier evictions brought on from his tattle-telling. That will be a better time to talk to her.
* * *
“Come in, Chris,” Clara says when she opens her office door. She closes it behind him. “How can I help you?”
“I have something to tell you.”
“Have a seat. Before we get started, I want to thank you for giving me the list of names. If anyone else gave me a list like that, I would have dismissed it, but I trust you, Chris. You’re a good kid. You’ve been raised well. I know handing me that list was extremely difficult for you, but I appreciate your bravery.”
Chris swallows hard. This will be tougher than he thought. She trusts me? Oh boy, he thinks to himself. He clears his throat and says, “Um, well, I just wanted to help clean out the bad eggs. Brett’s injury scared me. I’m happy he survived, but his life will not be the same.”
“It’s true. I wish the other Runners could have your wisdom, Chris.”
“Um, yeah, well, you see, I’m not who you think I am.”
“I’m sorry, what do you mean?”
“I need to tell you something that you’re not going to like. You know my father is an army general, right?”
Clara nods.
“Well, he studies people with powers, and part of his studies comes from me. I tell him things about the world of powers and abilities. I have since I was thirteen. I couldn’t handle how terribly he reacted to my running ability and I thought if I spied for him he might accept me again. At first, I only told him names and ages, but then he wanted more details like the locations of the other clans. He wanted to know about our different missions and deliveries. I began withholding information bit-by-bit because I didn’t want any of the Runners to be hurt. I’m telling you this now because I don’t want to do it anymore, but I don’t know how to stop being a spy.”
The Diamond Bearers' Destiny Page 3
