Nighthawks (Children of Nostradamus Book 1) (23 page)

Then there was the other girl. Jasmine could already see her hands were glowing blue. “I would kill you before you had the chance to move.”

The teen was looking for an excuse to kill her. Jasmine wasn’t surprised there was animosity, but the sheer anger in her face was startling. She remembered harboring hatred like that, disgusted with the world for the hand fate dealt. She wanted to be mad, but even the man sending shocks through her body was attempting to protect his people. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be a member of the community, but until she got revenge on the people who tried to kill her, she would bite her tongue.

“Truce,” Jasmine said.

“So you think.”

Dwayne held up his hands. “Skits, back down.”

His voice had a commanding tone. Jasmine had witnessed him come full circle in the last hour. He had been willing to trade in his humanity to force secrets from her lips. He had been the lapdog to the telepath, and now, he was the keeper of peace. She was beginning to see this group was far more complex than the military had ever considered. Jasmine eyed the man and the youngest girl and the similarities were obvious. “Siblings?”

Dwayne nodded. “My one and only.”

Jasmine continued to think of the general. What she wanted was to see him and his band of scientists nailed to crosses. She rubbed her wrists as she dwelled on how difficult it would be to break into a military base and target one man. They would have revoked her access already, considering her a threat to national security. It wouldn’t be impossible, but it might as well be. In front of her, she had the tools to make it happen. The telepath, the teleporter, the heavy hitter and the stealth—between the entire group, they could achieve it. At that moment, she realized why they worked so well together.

“My gear?” she asked.

Dwayne shook his head. “We brought you something a little less…” he pointed to the rags on the small table “…tactical. We appreciate the change of mind, but nobody calls us fools.”

Jasmine was discovering this operation wasn’t filled with mindless, rogue Children of Nostradamus. She began to wonder how the group had been brought together. It was unusual for so many to gather in one location, let alone stay together. Up to this point the largest “nest” had been four. The small troupe had spent more time fighting amongst themselves than the Paladins. This group, however, seemed to be a delicate balance of personalities and abilities.

Alyssa opened the door out of the basement. “Study us all you want, Paladin. You’re getting your free pass. Next time you cross us, we’ll kill you.”

Jasmine was sure they’d try. “We all adapt,” she warned.

She pulled the sweatpants over her jumper and then the hoodie. There was no material on the clothing for her to sync with her powers. Dwayne tossed some sandals on the floor. “Welcome to New England.”

She slid the sandals on her feet and tucked her hands into the pouch of her hoodie. The stairs led to a small office and then the lobby of an old hotel. She was surprised to see the interior was in relatively good condition. Outside of the building the street wasn’t nearly as well kept. Cars were littered about, flipped over, all of them scorched reminders of the many fires that broke out in the city. Solitude wrapped around her. The sense of emptiness was palpable in the air, tasting of sorrow and loss.

“You live here?”

“The Danger Zone is the only place humans can’t follow us. For now, at least.”

“Mechs?”

Dwayne pointed down the street. A solitary mech stood there, its legs severed, looking like they were sliced with a hot knife. She could see the scorch marks across its body. She was impressed with the constant defense these Children must be employing to stay alive. “Frequent?”

“Not anymore,” he said. “We assume they realized they were sending them to be destroyed and the government couldn’t accept the cost anymore.”

“Now we’re more worried about another bomb.”

Jasmine heard rumors there was a project being developed that would yield the impact of a nuclear bomb, but not the fallout. The military had halted it at the start, unsure of what was causing the powers in the first place, scared their technology could exacerbate the situation. Now it was on a shelf waiting for somebody to discover it again.

“We know about the bomb,” Skits said through gritted teeth.

That startled Jasmine. “How so?”

“Do you really think we’re the only ones?” Dwayne asked, looking back at her with a smirk.

Jasmine observed the many windows of the surrounding office buildings. She was surprised by this small contingent. It was difficult to believe that there were more of them. “How many?”

“We were nearly a hundred a year ago,” he said. “Your people either captured or killed the rest of us.”

She flinched at the “your people” comment. It was becoming obvious they saw her as the personification of the government. She had once been proud protecting the American people from the threat of powers. At some point, she realized she was perpetuating a holocaust.

She opened her mouth to apologize, but stopped as they reached the bar. Her training as a soldier buried her emotions deep. She returned to analyzing her captors.

“Welcome,” Vanessa said.

Jasmine was shocked to see the woman sitting there. Unlike before, her wings were gone and a normal, calm, average female was seated at the counter. The young man was sipping coffee from a mug with a broken handle.

“What the fuck,” she mumbled under her breath. She felt like she had stepped into a twisted reality. They were in the middle of an abandoned city, left uninhabitable by a nuclear bomb. These were some of the strongest Children of Nostradamus she had ever encountered, and there they were, having dinner. The sight of the man taking a swig of his coffee, his pinky almost extended, made her realize there was indeed something wrong with the world.

“Dwayne,” Vanessa said, her voice a smooth steady calm, “would you mind firing up the generators? Some food for our guest might make her a bit less hostile.”

“Who cares about her?” Skits interjected.

“While I don’t condone her decisions,” Vanessa admitted, “I’m not sure what any of you would have done in the same situation. But now she is here as a free woman. Let her see if the food tastes better without a collar.”

“Stay out of my head, telepath.”

Conthan held up his hand. “As the former newest arrival, let me say, it gets easier to ignore her. She can’t shut it off. Just don’t think of porn.”

Vanessa shot him a dirty look. Jasmine didn’t need to know their backstories to know there was a freshness about Conthan. While the others looked seasoned, and in the case of the man, weathered, the boy was green. He still held an optimism in his eyes the others didn’t. Jasmine almost felt sorry for the innocence that would be lost and replaced by a cold distance. It was only a matter of time. It was what you did to survive.

Jasmine sat down on a stool. “So what is this operation?”

Vanessa looked from Jasmine to Conthan. “We’re the Nighthawks, so I’ve been informed.”

“Great,” Jasmine said. “I’m living a comic book now.”

“We came here for sanctuary. When we came together, we started trying to save as many Children of Nostradamus as we could. We will fight and kill for our safety, but for the most part, we simply want to live.”

“Peaceable,” Jasmine scoffed. “You killed almost two dozen guards yesterday at the facility.”

Skits barked at the woman, “And how many of ours have died at the facility?”

“They were saving me,” Conthan interjected.

“Why you?”

Conthan reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a sheet of paper. “I was given a note that told me to see somebody at the facility. My powers only manifested a couple of days ago and I was hoping for answers.”

Jasmine gawked at the marbled paper. She didn’t dare open her mouth at the sight of the crumpled sheet. It was similar to the one delivered to her at the barracks.

“You’ve received one too?” Vanessa asked.

Jasmine ground her teeth at the intrusion. “Yes.”

“What did it say?”

“Told me to hesitate.”

There was a stillness every time Vanessa stopped relying on her physical abilities and focused on her talents. Jasmine could only assume she was attempting to tear from their psyches every bit of information they had about the letters. It dawned on her there was an irony dwelling on the telepath’s abilities while having her mind read.

Despite trying to dodge the thoughts and keep Vanessa from knowing what happened, she couldn’t stop thinking back to the girl. She had hesitated just as the letter had told her. She had unknowingly played into the psychic’s trap. What was worse, Jasmine was certain the girl was currently being taken into custody and nothing had changed.

“What happ—”

Vanessa held up a hand to halt Conthan. She made contact with Jasmine and could see the thanks written in the woman’s sad eyes. For a mind reader, it was always a question of what should be discussed and what should be shared in quiet misery. Jasmine did not want to talk about it and Vanessa knew better than to disclose personal trauma to the rest of the group.

“Several of us have received such letters,” Vanessa admitted. “By some grand design, they have brought us together. Conthan’s put him in the right place at the right time. Dwayne’s led him to me.”

“Why would a murderer send us these?”

“Eleanor was a powerful psychic. Our associate, Dav5d, theorized she was only surpassed by Nostradamus himself. Dav5d is able to predict probabilities on an astronomical scale. Turning his powers toward the events that lead to these letters, he had a theory that Eleanor was bringing us together for a greater plan.”

“This isn’t a comic, telepath.”

“Vanessa, please,” the angel said. “We are well aware. But for some reason, the collection of these powers has created a pivot point in a way that even Dav5d cannot predict. Eleanor brought us together because she thought we, each of us, were the keys to bringing about a brighter future for all.”

“We’re six people.”

Jasmine noted the woman’s smile as she referred to them as a group. She could hear the whispers from the newcomer’s mind. The soldier wasn’t aware, but her thoughts were similar to each of theirs. It wasn’t always revenge, but each of them needed the others. Jasmine’s need wasn’t as pleasurable as the rest, but at least it was there.

Conthan chimed in. “We’re six people with some serious juice.”

“You can barely use yours,” Skits poked.

“People, please.” Vanessa eyed them both.

“Sorry,” they said in unison.

Jasmine waved her finger in the air. “No, wait. Eleanor attempted to put a bullet in the president. Don’t you think that there might be something less righteous behind her motives?”

“Even Dav5d couldn’t understand why she might want to kill the president, a woman who had employed her, taken her in, and been her confidante for years. We assumed that Eleanor’s abilities had stymied Dav5d and prevented him from unraveling her intent.”

Jasmine knew the look on the angel’s face was hiding more. “But you have a theory.”

“The Warden said something that may have been the clue, the very reason why we are all together.”

“And?”

Vanessa gave a slight shrug. “Somehow, the president is involved with the Warden.”

“Everybody knows that the Warden was a friend of the president. He worked at the White House when Eleanor attempted to assassinate her. He became the head of the president’s detainment procedures when the Children of Nostradamus began emerging. Later she had the facility built and he was placed in charge.”

“The Warden is a Child,” Vanessa said.

Jasmine’s raised eyebrows gave away her surprise. She found it hard to believe the president, a woman who hated the Children of Nostradamus so much that much of her public relations was dedicated to their eradication, would incarcerate them under the watchful eye of the Warden. However, she thought, having that many powered people in one place could make for a threatening army.

Jasmine could see Vanessa and she knew every thought crossing her mind was betraying her. She had to ask, “What about your letter?”

Vanessa shook her head. “My letter told how to find Skits.”

“Thanks for that,” Skits said.

“It didn’t tell you how to find the others? Or what role you played?”

“It didn’t have to. As a child, Eleanor convinced the president to spare my life.”

Chapter Nineteen

May 20th, 2032 12:12AM

Dwayne
held on to two jumper cables and summoned his powers. Conthan covered his eyes to block out the bright light. Sparks shot out in a dozen directions as the current worked its way through the wires into the batteries stacked together.

“It’s easy when I’ve been keeping an eye on things,” Dwayne said with no strain.

“You have to do this every night?”

Dwayne laughed. “I wish, more like every few hours.”

“How do you sleep?”

“I keep a wire attached through the night to act as a ground. Otherwise I’d either build up and let loose or I’d start sparking and set a fire.”

“Wow,” Conthan said, “your powers kind of suck.”

“It seems that just about everybody has some weird downside to their power.” Dwayne flexed his muscles, forcing the current into his hands. He was elated at the sensation of his powers traveling down his arms. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the euphoria. “But, I can make lightning. Dude, I’m like Zeus.”

They both laughed. Dwayne pushed the last of the electricity through his hands and slowly closed access to the reservoir of power in him. He dropped the cables and sat down on a large piece of equipment. He motioned for Conthan to join him. “So how are you handling all of this?”

Conthan opened his mouth to answer but bit his tongue. Dwayne gave the guy a moment to process what must be an uncanny amount of emotions. Since Dwayne had seen the kid for the first time at the gallery, his world had been a constant struggle. Unless he had been unconscious, this was the first downtime he had in days.

“Yeah, it’s all cool,” Conthan said, trying to play it cool.

Dwayne cocked his head to the side with a raised brow. “Barely keeping it together, huh?”

“Another telepath?”

“You’re a kid,” Dwayne said. “You had your entire life ahead of you. Could have been a firefighter or some weird shit. Now”—he waved to the dingy storage room—“you have this to look forward to.”

“Yeah,” Conthan admitted. For a moment, he thought he could feel the radiation bombarding his body. Vegetation in the Danger Zone fought to stay alive, but after seeing the Outlanders, he could only imagine what it was doing to his body. Despite the potential for sterility, the world hating him, and their rogue mission to stop a conspiracy that ran deep through the government, he was processing the total collapse of his world fairly well.

“So how are you handling it?” Dwayne asked again.

Conthan let out a long sigh as he thought about how to say it. “It’s a bit much. If I was back home, I would probably be sitting in a deserted warehouse with a bunch of bohemians drinking beer. If I was feeling particularly productive, I might be working on some art. If the guys could see me now…” He trailed off.

“Not sure what they’d say?”

Conthan nodded. “I guess I’d be worried they’d think I was a freak. But they would probably think it was cool. They’d ask a thousand questions. They’d seem okay with it. But really, what normal person could be okay with watching a guy tear through space? I’d be just as worried if they were okay with it.”

“It’s hard letting go of who we were.”

“Gretchen…” He laughed. “She’d be all about it. She’d find some way to put me on a pedestal in her gallery. She’d pimp me out; she’d be jealous I got some cool power.”

“She struck me as a bit of a wild one. She’d fit in.”

Conthan raised his eyebrow. Before he could ask, Dwayne filled in the blanks. “We were there the night it happened. We’re the reason more soldiers didn’t come after you.”

“Eleanor,” Conthan whispered. “She really did think of everything.”

Dwayne nodded. “I think of her as a guardian angel.”

“I’m okay with it until I think of my past.” Conthan turned back to their earlier conversation. “Then I think, I’m barely in my twenties and I’m a wanted felon for absolutely nothing.”

“You did kill a guy,” Dwayne pointed out.

“I’ve killed several guys,” Conthan said, remembering the men he murdered.

“Self defense.”

“It doesn’t make it any better.”

Dwayne shook his head. “It won’t get any easier. And if you find it does, then we’re going to need to have another talk.”

“There is part of this that feels right, though. I mean, I really had no path in life. I had some spotty parts of my history and this kind of explains all of them. So there is an upside, I guess.”

“But…”

Conthan frowned. “You’ve been hanging out with Vanessa too much. Her mind reading tendencies are rubbing off.”

“Yeah, it happens.”

“But I feel kind of useless. I’m basically a taxi driver for you guys.”

“From what Jasmine said, if it wasn’t for you, we’d all be dead.”

“I guess.”

Conthan shoved his hands in his pocket at the awkward silence. “What was it like when you found out you were a Child?”

Dwayne examined Conthan for a moment. “Wasn’t much different than your own story. I ran away from home because I didn’t think they could handle it. I had to learn to survive on my own. Every day I traded a little piece of my humanity to stay alive. Eventually I found the Danger Zone and then Vanessa discovered me.”

There was the quietness again. There wasn’t a noise except for the two of them. Dwayne could tell Conthan was still unsure of how friendly he could treat their relationship.

“It takes time. Your powers emerged a few days ago and already you’ve managed to find a few ways to make them useful. When I first lit up, I nearly blew up the car I was sitting in. I almost electrocuted an entire bus full of people and I set my parent’s house ablaze. So far, you’re doing pretty good by my measure.”

Conthan smiled at the remark. “Thanks.”

“Want some advice?”

“You’re going to give it anyways.”

Dwayne gave him a sour expression. “You and my sister are going to be the death of me.”

He continued. “You need to be in control of your abilities, not the other way around. They’re a force of nature, and if you let down your guard, they’ll try to take over. We’ve all had that moment that we lose ourselves in our powers. You’ll learn to find your limits, and when you do, you’ll always want to rage against that boundary. You’ll learn as you go.”

“I feel like a liability right now.”

“I won’t lie, we weren’t thrilled about you joining us. You’re a kid, you’ve got no training, and why would we want somebody like that watching our backs?”

“Thanks…”

“Let me finish,” Dwayne interjected. “If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have gotten to Vanessa fast enough. You serve a purpose with this troupe, just like me or Skits do. We need the heavy hitter, we need the brute force, we need the level-headed one, and we need the seasoned fighter. Everybody is playing a role, and we just needed to adapt to the new guy.”

Conthan mulled it over. The group wasn’t so different than the artists he drank with night after night. The man in front of him understood a dirty secret Conthan hadn’t known he was carrying. Something in that fact felt like it was fast-tracking them to friendship.

“I appreciate that.”

Dwayne nodded. “You’ll eventually fit in. Give it some time. You should have seen when Skits and Alyssa first met. I had to tear them off one another. But from my point of view, I’m glad to have you watching my six.”

“And tomorrow?”

“We’re going to go in guns blazing. We’re going to do everything we can to save some people. I don’t know what it’ll be like.”

“Do you think we can trust her?”

Dwayne stared off into nothing for a moment as if he was recalling a distant memory. A moment later he was nodding his head with confidence.

“She needs us if she’s going to get revenge. As long as we serve a purpose for her, she will do the same for us.”

“That sounds pretty messed up.”

“The enemy of my enemy and all that jazz.”

Conthan stood up and Dwayne gave him an awkward male-on-male hug. As they separated, a spark snapped against his skin, stinging his cheek. “Jesus.”

“I’m going to empty out again. Go get some sleep, tomorrow is going to be a chore.”

Conthan nodded and exited the small room. The batteries were in the service area of the basement. Three stories above them, a king-sized bed awaited him. He oddly looked forward to the cold shower in his en suite bathroom. He turned to the stairs and paused. He grit his teeth for a moment and the icy sensation coated his skin. He stepped into the portal, delighted his powers answered when he wanted them.

***

Jasmine
imagined herself on the beach as a kid. The sensation of sand wedging itself between her toes was real. The smell of salt water assaulted her nostrils and for a moment she felt a calm come over her body. For a moment, she wasn’t an adult being forced to side with Children of Nostradamus. For a moment, her baggage washed away and she was innocent again.

She breathed in and out, letting each exhale steal away the tension from her body. She had found it difficult to start this session, the stress creating a knot between her shoulders. She was convinced the telepath was listening to her every thought, waiting for her to somehow betray them. Now, she let her mind go quiet, focusing on the nothingness in her thoughts. Her muscles relaxed and she found her spot, the one place where she felt at peace with herself. In the distance, she could almost make out the faces of her parents.

She opened her eyes to shadows under her door. She wondered if it was Dwayne coming to try another round of shock therapy. The shadow didn’t move and she then assumed it was one of the younger Children, unsure of how to proceed. 

“Come in,” she said aloud.

The door eased open. Conthan peeked around the corner. Once he noticed her on the floor, he didn’t speak.

She eyed him. “Checking on me?”

“I’m not entirely sure.”

She studied the kid. He was wearing a pair of ripped jeans, a soiled t-shirt, and a weathered leather jacket. He could have been any young man, but something about his face was starting to tell a story that would harden with age. She could tell by the way he kept his hands in his pockets and tried to avoid eye contact, he wasn’t like the others. “You’re new.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“You’re the kid who killed the Corps soldiers at the art gallery.”

He gawked. Was she the only one who knew what happened? He obviously hadn’t thought she would know what started this journey for him. “He was going to kill me. He had already killed another artist there.”

“So you felt it was better to kill than be killed?”

The heat crept up his face until his cheeks were red. “No,” he spit out, “he shot at me, and then he was dead on the ground.”

“Fight or flight reflex,” she said. “Not too shabby.”

“I didn’t do anything to him.”

“But you ran.”

“Everybody knows what happens to Children of Nostradamus.” His eyes started to burn a hole in her. “What you do to them.”

She nodded. She had seen judgment like this before. She thought to the young girl earlier that day who had accused Jasmine of betraying them. For a long time, she would ignore the accusatory looks, but she couldn’t shake the girl from her mind. “You’re not wrong.”

“Why?”

“My motives are none of your business.”

“Why hunt down your own kind?”

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “Fight or flight,” she said as if it answered any questions he could have. “If it comes down to me or somebody else, it won’t be me that dies. You have to be concerned with yourself. It’s every person for themselves.”

He looked ready to spit back a retort but stopped. He was tense, maybe even angry. There came a moment in his contemplation of her answer that his body relaxed. She was surprised to see it, usually people would tear apart her desire to survive. There was a brief moment when the look on his face softened, and she looked away, refusing to accept his pity.

“Don’t fuck us over tomorrow,” Conthan said with no aggressive tone to his voice. Before she could retort he added, “I’ve got your six.”

Jasmine’s anger tingled along her skin. Her powers reached out to find materials to mimic. As he spoke, her emotions turned to anguish. She tried to take a calming breath but she could feel her emotions welling to the surface.

“Why?” she asked simply.

“Somebody had faith in me not too long ago. Figure it’s only right to have faith in you.”

“You’re using me just like the Corps, don’t try to act righteous.”

“They used you, Jasmine,” he said. “We’re relying on you. There’s a difference. Without you, we all go down. We need you and you need us. It might not be friendship, but it’s…” he thought about his word choice, “it’s an alliance.”