Caped (Book 1): The Burdens of Fate (23 page)

Hell, I don't even go on social networks
anymore. Not since expressing our first amendment rights became low-level
terrorism. God forbid Iris’ to go missing because of something I said, I'd tear
the world apart. Lord knows I've got a mouth on me, but lately the government's
being plain irrational.

Yet they're the reason they're in this whole
mess to begin with. Carter's fancy P.I. work made that evident, so as much as
I'd love to get

Pennsylvania
Avenue
on the line, there's a big
"What
if?"
dangling over their heads. Are they covering there asses or
actually trying to help? My bet's on the latter. Whatever it is, they’re
holding their cards mighty close to their chest, so we don't know. And that
enough to scare us.

That, on top of the governments
Alpha Team,
makes it kinda hard to feel like we've got a grip on things. We don't. Thomas
wouldn't even try to convince us otherwise. The only thing I can count on him
for is having is a plan, and pray it's good enough. But recently he's been
occupied with more pertinent matters.

We're stuck in a game of cat and mouse and, unfortunately,
we're the mouse. Carter's confirmed that the government is looking for both
parties involved in Chicago.
And not just the American government, every government. If there was a world
wide to-do list we've somehow made it to just under finding the bastard
kidnappers.

They've got satellite footage of Chicago, which means, at
most they know about Prisca, me, and possibly Alvin. If they somehow manage to
connect me back to Los Angeles
they may also pick up the vague connection between Edward and Laurie. And they
could certainly assume that Alvin
was there too, given the fact everyone was knocked out. And with three people
all in the same location they'd be safe to assume they'd have formed a team,
and since the blackout was too perfectly timed, they could also assume there's
a noc specializing in 1's and 0's.

Considering Prisca was possibly the first
recorded injury in the entire LA incident, 200 miles away, as well as occurring
just before and entire city fell unconscious. They find any information
concerning that and that leads directly to Prisca. Find tapes from the hospital
and they've got Edward, Alvin and Prisca.

Look back towards the incident in New York with Laurie,
check a few security tapes and you've got both Laurie and Edward. I'm sure some
smart minds can pull that together, the pieces fit a little too perfectly. And
if they do, they've got most the team already.

Of course I've already told Carter, and he
informed me he'd been wiping any traces of contact between everyone since
shortly after LA.

My life has officially turned into a spy novel
and I can't tell a damn soul, much less win a Pulitzer for it. I'm gonna get
cornered in the cereal isle of the grocery store by an army of men in black
suits, clinging onto a box a Corn Flakes because I somehow believe if they see
me with such an All-American brand it'll spare me the fifty consecutive life
sentences they're intent on burdening me with.

Okay so I definitely went over the top, but
seriously, think about it. It's only a matter of time before they figure
something out.

The point is they're onto us. Maybe not "
us
"
us, but they've found some breadcrumbs. Let's just hope we haven't been too
sloppy.

Odds are they didn't intervene is Chicago because they
needed to see what we were capable of. Perhaps we scared them. Whatever the
case may be, they used the public like guinea pigs. Sacrificed a couple pawns
so they could move closer to the big dogs. It's sick. And disturbingly
expected.

 

–
4/30
–

Kaylie
Horn
-

Hey girl I'm back. I know you probably feel
like I talk your pages off lately but it's definitely interesting times we're
living in. I spent the remainder of my weekend working on chemistry and English
homework, not too bad when you consider the alternatives. Teenagers haven't
changed, there are still bullies, jocks, preps, nerds, theater, and music
geeks... and as always there are sluts in every subdivision, it's high school.
The only thing that's changed is there's one more topic of discussion at lunch.

You hear whispers, "Nathan Sepulveda can
fly," or "Megan Pivarnick can read your mind," but it's all just
rumors. Besides, nobody's willing to risk the public lynching that'll come if
it ever turns out to be true. I'm just lucky I haven't heard anything about me,
though the other day between classes Megan did give me a weird smirk, but she
can't prove anything without outing herself so I'm not worried. Ok, maybe just
a little worried.

The bright side: The family's been supportive!
Growing more so by the day. Yup yup. Still not too excited about the
save
the world
thing, but I think they've moved that to the back of their minds
for now. It's for the best.

Dad was gossiping about who's suspected of being
a noc at work. It's like a witch hunt wherever you go. It wouldn't be so bad if
there weren't stupid people out there fucking it up for the rest of us.
Speaking of which, Otep was right, there was another kidnapping today. Alvin tried to stop it
but they had the location all wrong. Kinda scary that they can toy with his
ability like that, kinda like having a faulty smoke detector.

In other news that never changes, Thomas
appears to be working on a bazillion things at once. Last I heard he was
analyzing some gel Alvin
picked up from his fight, working on how to handle this group of rogues, public
relations, improving what he's built, and about a dozen other things.

It's amazing and scary how these guys have
managed to drop their lives and work on this, granted Thomas and Ivan both
hated their job, and they've designed a floating sanctuary that provides for
their every need. It's just kinda cool how this has allowed them to change
their lives, while I'm still stuck waking up at the crack of dawn just to sit
in class all day.

I'm just a little jealous... just a little.

 
 

Prisca Amin
-

So, okay, things are getting rather weird
around here. Like the Halloween type of weird. Earlier this week Ivan was
talking about how him and his son, cool little guy, couldn't shake the feeling
of being watched. Alvin
too, and he's fast enough to check.

It's gotten so bad that Ivan hasn't been up
here in a couple of days, and even I don't like staying for too long. It hasn't
helped that we've all been having these crazy graphic nightmares. Nothing too
serious, and most likely purely coincidental, but it's slightly concerning. No
one knows for sure, but group consensus is that it has something to do with
some crafty project Thomas is working on in that super secret state-of-the-art
workspace of his. Kinda like how everyone thought the engines of the island
were "
watching us."

Nobody can figure out what goes on in that
place either, not that it's an actual secret. He's made no effort to hide it,
and the doors are always open. In fact he loves to see the look on people's
face when they browse over the interactive walls, giant pseudo-screens filled
with notes and symbols, along with tables full of odd blueprints and half-baked
ideas that look like concept art from the next star trek episode. Kudos to
anyone if they can actually understand any of it, I tried once for all of a few
seconds. He may be a super brain but that didn't make his handwriting any more
legible.

But whatever, fast forward to a week ago and he
suddenly became a lot less talkative. Not even Ivan knows what's going on, and
those two are supposed to be all buddy buddy. But, you know, we've only known
each other for a month or so, maybe this is just a phase of his?

So, I stopped by his lab the other day to see
if everything was okay, just a friendly visit, I wasn't expecting him to spill
his heart out to me or anything. But the door was closed, and locked. So I
asked I.I., the island's computer; sounds like pirate speak right?
"Aye
aye, captain!"
At least that's what we were going for.

In any case, I asked I.I. to contact him for
me, only to find out he's
not to be disturbed
. "
If the room's a
rockin', don't bother knockin,"
right? Not going to lie, that was my
first thought.

So then I asked if there was anything strange
happening inside, but he's put the damn thing under some stupid cyber non-
disclosure agreement. Who thinks to do this?! So inside the lab is officially
off-limits, but it told me that right outside the lab, there was clearly
audible thumping and faint screaming that could be heard coming from inside
around three o'clock the night before. Super weird, right? But again, like I
said, maybe it's just a phase?

From what I can tell he's been locked in there
a couple days, sending odd requests to Ivan for odd herbs and spices. Even he's
a little disturbed by all of this, and I can't blame him. It's not too
comforting when the super genius goes into quiet lockdown mode; even if it has
nothing to do with you. Give us a sign or something, geez.

Edward knew more about it than the rest of us,
but every time we asked him he answered the same way, "Any considerably
advanced technology will be indistinguishable from..." He never finishes.
Obviously the answer is magic, but what are we supposed to take from that? He's
working on magic? He's a genius not a wizard. I guess we won't find out until
he decides to exit from that fancy lab of his, I just hope it's soon.

 
 

Alvin
Turner
-

I'll admit we're all still getting the hang of
this, and all these new curve balls being thrown around sure aren't making our
lives any easier. I get it. But we go from
"kidnapping will
continue,"
which they knew, planned, and got away with it scott-free,
to
"I might know how they're fooling me,"
to
"I don't
see anything anymore."

It sure does suck to be on the losing side of a
war.

That being said, I've been running extremely
fast lately, just to make sure I'm not being followed. The last thing I need is
to be ambushed.

It's been over a week since I gave Thomas that
syringe and the only thing I've been able to get out of him is that it's
"very interesting."

Whatever it is it’s got him worried. Very
worried. I understand things take time but that's not what I was expecting. I'm
a runner, time is the one thing I hate giving people.

 

–
5/4
–

Edward
Otep
-

I come to this thing every so often to write
down what's on my mind, but I've never really been the type of person to do so;
and sometimes, only sometimes, I forget why I started in the first place. It's
the fastest I've ever picked up a habit that's for sure. But it's a wonderful
pleasure, it relieves my brain from the duty of remembering every detail of the
day. I can simply log it in here and focus on something else.

And focus is what I need a lot of the time. My
ability doesn't grant me omniscient views of the future, it requires
specificity and focus. There's no search function for finding tragic events.
I've had a intuitive feeling or two, and perhaps one premonition that came in a
dream, but 90% of it's just tedious grunt work. Yet through it all, it appears
I've overlooked a very important detail. And that's what brought me to this
little book today.

Magic.

Do you believe in magic? I know, the first
thing that even comes to mind when asked that question is that old (but good)
song by Lovin' Spoonful. But this time it's an actual question. Magic, hokus
pokus, that voodoo that you do. Levitation, transmutation, hexes and curses.
One hundred percent bona fide magic.
It's real.

It's undeniable that I've seen
a
future.
I'm hesitant to call it
the
future simply because it's proven to be in
such a state of flux.

And considering everything that's happened thus
far, it really shouldn't shock me; but still, it's a hard pill to swallow.

Even the word "magic" makes one think
of trickery or deception, of something that isn't real, or as real as it seems.
Math/Science dictates A+B=C, magic says toad foot+iguana tongue = Bigfoot. I
may be a little off with the math but you get idea.

Thomas' e-mail came in just before midnight
last night, it was one line of text and straight to the point, as his e-mails
frequently are. "Concerning Alvin's
gel, it's magical. My tests are conclusive."

 
 

Dennis Shaeffer
-

Funny how different settings make certain
people feel at home. Bats don't like the day and fish don't like the forest.
Nena might look human, but she's as foreign to me as they come.

I'd been there before, a couple floors down
where the kids are still shut off from the word. If only they knew how
desperately the world has been searching for them, maybe it would give them a
slight degree of solace. Maybe. They'll start to crack soon; mentally, I mean.
Isolation has a tendency to do that, even to the most resilient of us. Yet no
degree of ground penetrating sonar, vast army of drones, nor any earthly device
will find them. They belong to us, and they will remain with us until we have a
better world to give to them.