Talent Storm (28 page)

Read Talent Storm Online

Authors: Brian Terenna

Lilly’s watery wide eyes met mine. “Save me.”

The man holding her smiled, his face twisting cruelly. His muscles flexed and my stomach sank. I lurched forward, attempting to reach her, but the men held me firm. My pulse raced, and the acrid taste of bile stung my throat. Light headed, my body tingled. I couldn’t lose her; I wouldn’t lose her.

At the instant he jerked the knife, I felt an intense flare of power burn away my weariness. My talent lashed out. A green tendril ripped the man’s arm away, then launched him backward. Sparkling, he slammed into the group of men behind him.

“Run,” I yelled to Lilly.

She jumped to her feet before sprinting down the alley. I tore from the men’s grips and leapt over the prone men, draining the rest of my talent. Clear of the men, I ran, seeking to reach Lilly, to protect her.

She glanced back, slowing. I threw my hand forward. “Go!” She had to escape even if I didn’t. She had to live.

Her legs pumped faster as she faced forward again. Still running, I peeked back. Half a hundred men were close behind, but we could make it if we just kept running.

I looked forward, and my eyes flashed wide as a man jumped out from the shadows in front of Lilly. His outstretched arm crashed into her neck. Lilly’s feet flew up, and her back slammed into the rocky street, her golden hair streaming up. She groaned, then lay dazed.

Still twenty feet away, adrenaline surged through my body, driving me toward her. “Lilly!” Breathing hard, I desperately grasped for my talent. It was like trying to grasp fistfuls of air.

The roughly bearded man smiled as he raised his sword, point aimed at her chest. My heart pounded, and my stomach burned. I pumped my arms and legs like a lunatic, desperate to save her. The sounds of men shouting and the feel of wind whipping by me seemed unreal. Like in a dream, my legs felt sluggish, but I was almost there. If he hesitated a little longer...

A smile sprouted on the man’s face and the muscles in his arms flexed. The silvery blade shot down, reflecting sun onto sidewalls.

Lilly’s eyes flashed open. “Jaden!”

Ten feet away, I held out my hand, as if to reach her. The blade sliced into her heart, grinding against the stone below. She screamed and clutched at the blade, then coughed on a fountain of blood.

Immediately, all strength and will drained out of me, leaving me an empty husk. My legs crumbled beneath me, my hope along with them. After a few stumbling steps, I collapsed on the ground before rolling to a stop at Lilly’s side.

Her midnight eyes were fixed on mine. The pain in them tore at me. Her mouth opened a few times, but no words came out. I reached out to touch her one last time as her head lulled to the side. The life in her eyes faded, and my hand fell to the ground.

☼☼☼

Moments later, boots slammed into my ribs as I lay still on the cold ground. I barely felt their impact, and made no sound or movement. The tears that ran down my cheeks were the only indication that I lived.

What had happened? Lilly dead... no, never. I wouldn’t allow it. When I looked again at her serene, white face and dull eyes, the reality of her death drilled into me. It shattered my world and bore away my will to live. I failed her, just like I failed Ben.

More kicks jarred my body as I cried, solely focused on her. Her death seemed so unreal, so unimaginable, like I was living in a nightmare. It was demonic hands on my neck, choking away my life. The bright sun shone on as if mocking me. My world was completely dark; my love was gone.

After an eternity of kicks, someone said, “That’s enough. Take him in. I don’t want to jeopardize my reward.”

For a second I thought I recognized the voice, but what did it matter now. Someone tugged my cloak off and picked up Peacemaker. Two pairs of robust hands grabbed my wrists and dragged me forward along the rough ground. Rocks ripped my shirt and tore my back, spilling my blood. I didn’t care. Why would I? Red streaks streamed in my wake. Maybe death’s sweet embrace would claim me before they could mend my injuries.

They continued to drag me for what seemed like miles as the remaining squad members marched in front of us. An overweight hooded man marched next to the squad. Slumped over people in rags watched with sympathetic eyes but did nothing to help me. What could they do? Finally, after being dragged half way across the city, we arrived at a set of large iron gates. I stretched my sore neck back to see a huge stone structure within. It appeared that I would be imprisoned.

My eyes were drawn to the front of the structure. Two rotting heads were speared on pikes. I grimaced, wondering who they were.

One of my captors grunted a laugh. “Like that? Two of your commie buddies killed in battle. You won’t have it so lucky.”

The cubby, robbed guy chuckled.

I didn’t react to him. The dead must have been one of the other saboteur teams. I thought of the general’s phrase, ‘the tracks are primed and ready.’ I stared at the heads, as if waiting for the response. When none came, I let my head drop and eyed the men that held me. Both wore black, military uniforms. Red fists were displayed on their arms. The one on my left was tall and broad. The blood of his friends was splattered on his uniform.

The other man was shorter, but even stockier. He scowled in what looked like his favorite expression. There were only three squad members remaining. I wasn’t sure when the others departed. One of them stepped up to an older man in a different style uniform, maybe a prison guard, before exchanging a few words that I couldn't catch.

The next thing I knew, the iron gates squealed open, and they dragged me in past the heads. The prison walls were rough stone, the bared windows small and infrequent. Over the prison, puffy, white clouds floated by and dark birds circled. There was something to looking at the world upside down that made it seem less real. It was either that or all of the blood I’d lost. Suddenly, the sky darkened as thick black clouds rolled in. A gust of wind howled by us, rippling the green fabric of my cloak.

“There’s a storm coming,” said the robbed man.

I turned and looked at him until the tall man kicked me in the ribs.

“Get up. There’s no way I’m dragging you up these stairs.”

I didn’t move. Several more kicks smashed into my already broken ribs, and I still didn’t move.

“I said get up!”

The man yanked hard on my arm, nearly popping it from the socket. Now standing, the men propped me up to help me walk. Thunder roared behind me, and rain began to patter on the ground. My feet bumped up the stairs as we ascended. After they walked me through a pair of iron doors, we entered a dark, dank hallway. I scrunched my nose at the stale air. Screams, groans, and mad ravings echoed in the cells. At least I wasn’t alone in here.

Our threesome staggered down an ominous corridor lined with cells. Chained, hollow-eyed people wearing rags or nothing at all were imprisoned inside. They looked at me with their dull, lifeless eyes, saying nothing, as if they'd lost the will. In one cell, a guard held a glowing poker over a ragged old man. I watched as he jammed it into the guy’s arm. The old man screamed as smoke twisted upward.

We stopped at an empty cell. The guards unlocked the door and pushed it wide. If Lilly were still alive, I’d tear my captors apart and escape. Now that she was gone, I walked into the cell, my head lowered. Half way in, I collapsed on the ground.

“Not again,” the tall one said.

With grunts, the two men hefted me up onto a rock slab. They fastened metal brackets on my arms, legs, and chest making most movement impossible.

The short man snickered. “Cozy?”

Almost automatically, I angled my head and spit in his dirt smeared face. It hit him in the eye. He growled, and drew back his fist. I let my head roll back over and stared at the gray ceiling.

The larger man grabbed his wrist. “We were told to alert the healers as soon as we had him here.”

The spit sprayed man lowered his eyebrows while grinding his teeth. The muscles in his arm bulged and shook, but the other man’s grip held. The taller man shook his head, his eyes boring into his partner. The stocky one relaxed, then spit in my face before ripping his arm away. He smiled and strode out. After the tall man left, he slammed the door shut, shrouding me in darkness. My only company was the screaming woman in the cell across from me.

Not long after, the door swung open. Light flooded into the room, and I squinted at the sudden brightness. After my eyes adjusted, I saw a muscular woman in a tank top, standing next to me. Her arms and shoulders were covered with tattoos of demons and monsters. She frowned when she looked at me, then pulled out a rag from her pocket. I stared at it as she wiped the spit off my face. Maybe all healers were empathetic.

Silently, she reached down and grabbed my arm. Talent flowed into me before buzzing through my body. Death was now beyond my reach, at least for now. My intense pain subsided as my flesh mended and bones healed. After she removed her hands, our eyes met. There was sadness in hers, as if she knew what awaited me. She turned, her eyes on mine until the last moment, then she lumbered out and shut the door. The lights blinked out, enveloping me in darkness again.

 

 

CHAPTER 14

 

Sometime later, the lights clicked on to reveal a brutish man standing before me. He carried a tray of pasta topped with tomato sauce. I salivated at the smell of real food.

“I’m here to feed you.”

My face contorted at the thought of being fed by anyone, let alone this man. At a growl from my stomach though, I nodded. The man stepped up before slopping food into my mouth. By the end, spaghetti and sauce dressed my face. He turned without a word and left. The lights blacked out.

A strand of spaghetti tickled my cheek. I twisted and shook my face, growling and annoyed. Every strand but the one tickling me fell. I huffed, squeezing my eyes shut. Damn. Why wouldn’t it fall?

I dropped my head in resignation, and the strand fell. I nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. Instead, I closed my eyes, feeling the sauce dry on my skin as I waited.

☼☼☼

The sound of a fork tapping on a plate woke me up. A man with hairy arms stood near the door, holding a tray of chicken drumsticks and vegetables. I squinted at him, staring at his face. Where had I seen him? A screeching noise drew my eyes to the corner of the room. A shelved speaker was wired to the wall.

“Hello, young man. I’m Warden Marin Kataeb, your overlord. For now, you haven’t pissed me off, so I’m benevolent. Don’t test me. Now, what's your name,
boy
?”

His shrill voice made me shiver, momentarily opening my mind to doubt. I steeled myself. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction “How weird?”

“What’s weird?”

A madman’s smile grew on my face. “My
name
is Marin Kataeb. What are the odds?”

The servant raised his eyebrows while scratching his head, before clenching his fists. He stomped forward, fists raised. “Show respect for the warden. You Coalition commie.”

I scowled, my eyes raking him. “Do it Hairy.” How could they hurt me more?

The warden’s disembodied voice pulled back my attention. “This is your last chance
boy
, before the fun begins.”

Torture no doubt; I would expect no less of the Oppressors. I looked down at the metal bars holding me in place, sneering inwardly at his ‘compassion’.

“I'm going to ask you several questions,” he said. “Give me the answers I want or you will know my wrath. What is your name and what is your mission?”

Did he think I’d break that easy? They killed Lilly. All I had left were the Coalition’s secrets. I wouldn't be responsible for thousands of their deaths. I thought of Danessa, Ben’s parents, and even Deo. I sighed before giving up the only information I ever would. “My name is Jaden.”

“There, was that so bad?” Marin asked. He seemed to already know my name. How, I didn’t know. My sense of unease grew.

Brushing it off, I continued. “And I work with Liberty Prison Inspectors. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to shut this place down. It's out of compliance. The door’s bars are spaced one inch too far apart—”

“Enough,” said Marin.

“I’m going to have to write you up for this. I’d like to cut you a break but—”

“You just bought yourself a feeding tube and a lot of pain boy,” Marin said, anger thick in his voice.

“I'm a vegetarian anyway,” I yelled.

The guard grunted, amused. When I looked at his bearded face again, I noticed it was covering a scar. I didn’t see it at first but it looked just like... no not just like, but identical to the man who attacked Ben and I. He was the man who escaped! He wasn’t a Wilder; he was from Liberty.

They sent him for me. They must have known about my talent potential. I didn’t think it was possible to blame myself more for Ben’s death; I was wrong. My potential made us targets. I can’t believe I ever thought we were safe. Anger surged inside me, pushing aside my weariness and forcing away my complacency. I couldn’t believe I was trying to spare these monsters. They killed Ben and Lilly; now they’d feel pain.

I focused my mind on one of the chicken drumsticks the scarred man carried. The bone sheared, then shot into the man’s neck. He gurgled on blood and fell forward. Focusing on the steel bars immobilizing me, I pealed them back like twigs and rolled out of the bed. My legs quivered as they hit the ground. I stumbled, then regained my balance. A clicking noise drew my attention to the wall. Gas hissed through now open wall vents. I had to get out of here. My talent slammed into the back wall, causing a man-sized indentation, spiraled with cracks.

One more should do it. I tried to refocus for another burst, but my mind began to fog. The gas weakened my limbs until they felt like rubber. I tumbled to the ground in a limp heap. Dizzy, I raised my hand toward the wall, straining for power. None would come. The airborne tranquilizer ebbed my strength and destroyed my concentration. My hand fell as all strength fled me.

“You will now be drugged at all times,” said the warden. “You've made a mistake in thinking that we won't steal your information. We'll get what we want, but you won’t like how we get it. You will beg for death,
boy
.”

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