Nerve

by Kirsten Krueger

  Based on the sparkle in her eye, the answer to Ackerly’s next question was fairly obvious. “Where’s…your brother now?”

  “He…died.” Even though he could see her composure crumbling, she tried to force a smile. “It was—he was young—too young—but I should have seen it coming. He always thought he was more powerful than he really was, and he never wanted anyone else’s help. Kinda like me,” she admitted with a trembling exhale. “His arrogance was really what killed him. I hope I don’t make the same mistakes.”

  “I don’t think you’re arrogant. If you were, you’d be bragging about your infinite Affinities rather than trying to hide them. You’re humble, and you know you aren’t indestructible.”

  “Yeah, the Wackos certainly could have killed me… They killed my brother,” she whispered as if they weren’t the only two people in this giant room. A cool wrath settled over her features as she met Ackerly’s eyes. “I hate them. I hate what they’ve done—I hate what they stand for. And I know…I know, Ackerly, that you think I’m one of them.”

  His lungs seized up as he gaped at her, petrified by the confession.

  “I can’t read minds, but I’m not oblivious. I see the way Tray watches me, the way all your friends tiptoe around me as if I’m some dangerous predator, the way you always want to say more to me but never do. I want you to be able to talk to me—I want you to trust me—but I don’t know how to make you believe I’m not evil.”

  “I don’t think you’re evil. I’ve…I’ve never had any siblings, but if the Wackos killed your brother, I don’t imagine you’d want to be part of them.”

  She buried her face in her hands. “I don’t. My brother was all I had left and they stole him from me.” When she looked up again, he saw how pink the whites of her eyes had become, how much despair seeped from her pores. “My—my mother died giving birth to me…”

  Baffled, he stupidly blurted, “That’s…kinda rare now, isn’t it?”

  “She was sick—some disease that weakened her. Giving birth to me was too much for her to handle. She died because of me.”

  “That’s—not true—”

  “My father seemed to think it was.” Bitterly, she glared into the distance. “He never talked about it much, but I knew he always blamed me—always resented me. The grief was too much for him to handle and…he killed himself.”

  Ackerly’s chest felt heavy as he studied her, unsure of how to respond. So many people in Periculand had endured traumatic experiences, but his life had been fairly good—perfect, almost. His parents had been loving and kind; no illnesses or deaths had ever befallen their small family unit. He’d been granted endless hours to do what he loved, and he’d never suffered severe emotions like guilt and sorrow and rage. How could he even attempt to empathize with someone who’d undergone as much as Ashna? It seemed more insulting than humane to try to act like he had any inkling as to the mental agony that must have constantly torn at her brain.

  “I-I’m sorry. I—my friends—they shouldn’t have suspected you.”

  “No, no,” she said, waving her hand dismissively, “they have the right to be suspicious. If I thought one of you was part of the Wackos, I don’t think I’d even be able to stand in the same room. It’s been a struggle not to confront that Floros guy, but…disobeying Tray’s orders would be like committing a sin, right?”

  He couldn’t conjure a laugh at her joke. The note Kiki and Eliana had found gnawed at his mind. If they hadn’t found it, he would have no doubts about Ashna’s loyalty. Even with the note’s existence, the possibility that it was some implanted distraction was viable. How could he validate this theory, though, when she’d revealed so much to confirm her innocence? To question her now would be uncouth.

  “We’ll find a way to discover the truth about Than,” Ackerly promised, hoping she didn’t sense the unspoken “and about you” that could have easily fit at the end of his sentence. Knowing what he knew now about her past, it didn’t make sense that she would be here on a secret mission for the Wackos…but then what was her goal?

  “I hope we do—before the Wackos ruin any more lives,” she added, her shoulders slumping slightly. She forced her torso upright again and finally met his eyes. “I’m sorry to pile this on you. I don’t want you to feel bad for me, really, but I just…it’s nice to be able to open up about it—to express my feelings. I’ve gotten so used to bottling them up that it’s…strange—but in a good way. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather talk to.”

  Ackerly’s lips parted and his cheeks burned, but luckily, he didn’t have to contrive some pathetic response before she stood and extended her hand toward him.

  “Ready for another round on the skateboards? I swear I won’t let you fall this time. My main priority will be keeping you upright. I will treat you like a child, if you so please.”

  “I do, yeah,” he said, grinning goofily as he took her hand and allowed her to pull him to his feet. Her hand lingered in his for a few extra moments, the clean softness of hers encasing the perpetual dirtiness of his. “I’ll try not to fall on you this time.”

  Barking out a light-hearted laugh, Ashna ambled toward the skateboards, both chaotically strewn on the floor amidst the rope. Before bending to correct them, she threw a frisky glance over her shoulder, irises popping like rainbow roses in a world of concrete. “Don’t try too hard, Ackerly. I didn’t mind.”

  Tray skipped work that afternoon, claiming he was sick. The excuse wasn’t necessarily a lie: Since Ackerly had emerged from their bathroom that morning with the knowledge of Adara’s trial, Tray’s nausea had progressively increased. His friends were convinced it was because he feared Adara would end up in federal prison—or perhaps a research facility—and while that was certainly a matter of concern, his apprehension also lay in the prospect that she would somehow be freed. It seemed unlikely that the Rosses would allow her to assimilate back into Periculand, but if she did…with her fire Affinity…

  He dispelled these conflicting sentiments by focusing solely on the issue of Angor, Artemis, and which one of the two might possess the mind controlling Affinity. All deceptions would disappear after the trial—unless the mind controller was skilled enough to persuade even Tray into misguided beliefs. What if Artemis revealed herself only to coax them all into thinking she was innocent? What if Angor proclaimed he’d lied for the past month but then erased any memory of his confession?

  Tray despised the notion that anyone had the ability to block knowledge from his awareness. To think someone could inhibit the range of his cognizance was possibly more dreadful than death. His Affinity was strength, though—not mental strength but physical strength. How could that useless ability stand a chance against an intangible force?

  A knock on his bedroom door extracted him from these pessimistic questions. For minutes—perhaps hours at this point—he’d paced throughout his dorm room, dodging Ashna’s mattress on the floor and glaring when it reminded him that she was a problem, as well. Thankfully, when he opened the door, it wasn’t anyone who could make his dreadful life even worse: just the Affinity ambassador, Olalla Cosmos, who seemed to be one of their few adult allies.

  “Ah, Tray, I’m glad you’re here,” she greeted, her mood considerably brighter than it had been over the past few weeks. She wore a light purple suit today, but it wasn’t the clothes on her body that caught his attention, for in her arms she held a stack of white, leathery fabric that looked strangely familiar to the anti-Affinity suit he’d studied over the past three weeks. “I’ve finally created what I promised you.”

  Tray appraised the pile of folded garments. “I don’t remember you promising me anything.”

  “It was more of an indirect promise. I used the data you collected on the Reggs’ suits to compose some of my own. Each one is not completely Affinity-proof, but instead tailored to your unique abilities. I’ve only had time to work on a few, I confess, but here I have one for you and one for your brother, both designed to withstand a substanti
al amount of weight without tearing. I’m in the process of working on one for your friend Lavisa that will be easy for her to move and fight in. Unfortunately, I don’t believe there’s much we can do to enhance the Affinities of mind readers and oracles, like your two Mental friends. I’ve been looking into creating something that might further the effects of my peace Affinity, and that knowledge might transfer over to their Affinities, as well. As for Adara—”

  “Don’t bother with her,” he said a bit too harshly. Composing himself, he amended, “I doubt she’ll need any type of suit. It seems likely she’ll be in jail forever, and if not, she’s in denial about her Affinity, anyway. If anything, we should create a suit that’ll contain her fire so she doesn’t set the world ablaze.”

  Olalla smiled sympathetically. “Adara can be trained. Any Affinity can be malicious if used for evil, but I see goodness within her. I’ve been trying to convince the Rosses to release her, but…to no avail. I have hope it’ll play out in her favor, though. Don’t give up on her just yet.”

  Although Tray accepted the two suits as gifts, he didn’t quite accept her hope for Adara. Stromer wasn’t evil, but her nature wasn’t exactly redeemable, either. “Why are you helping us?” he decided to ask, eyeing the woman dubiously. “You must know the Rosses hate me and my friends more than anyone in this school.”

  “That’s exactly why I am helping you.” Sighing wearily, she elaborated. “The Rosses aren’t…what you think they are. I’ve never been suspicious of them before, but after spending all of my time in this town with them over the past month…I fear they’re brainwashing the other students, and you and your friends seem to be the only ones who are immune.”

  Tray paused before placing the suits on his desk. “Brainwashing how?” Olalla knew of some of their suspicions, but he hadn’t thought she believed them herself.

  “I don’t want to jump to any conclusions,” she said carefully, “but there seems to be more at play here than I originally thought. There’s certainly a lot of…tension on this campus, and I’ve been working hard to keep things peaceful, but…it’s tiring. I fear the time will soon come when I’m no longer able to withhold the built up violence and aggression and it will all come crashing down.”

  His heart rate must have spiked from its normal seventy-one BPM to over a hundred. Tray wasn’t typically one to cave into panic, but was it possible the Rosses hadn’t completely overthrown Periculand yet only because Olalla suppressed their malevolent intentions with her peace Affinity? If this was the case and Olalla grew fatigued, what would happen when the mind controller gained full access to his or her abilities?

  “D-do you think you can last until tomorrow?” Tray asked, swallowing back his alarm.

  “You’re worried about the trial, I presume? I do believe I can last through it, but…that doesn’t guarantee the outcome will be to your liking. I can keep it cordial, but if the Rosses intend to find both Angor and Adara guilty…there’s not much I can do to prevent it.”

  “Legally is there anything you can do?” he demanded, hating the desperation in his voice. “You’re the Affinity ambassador. Shouldn’t you have some say in this—at least as much as they do? Aren’t you technically their equal?”

  “Technically yes, but they’ve always ignored technicalities. Being that there are two of them, they’ve always overpowered me with their opinions. Now that they’re the undisputed rulers of this town, I doubt that, even though I was there as a witness, I will be permitted to testify in court. The problem is that it’s impossible, for even me, to discern who is telling the truth—Angor or the Rosses. If I knew for certain…well, I might even take illegal action to ensure whoever is guilty does not ascend.”

  “I’m considering taking illegal action just to figure out the truth,” Tray muttered before adding an awkward, “That was a joke.” She chuckled, but Tray could tell she knew he’d been serious. “What about Aethelred? If we can get him to touch them—even just one of them—he’ll be able to decipher what’s true.”

  Olalla’s expression was polite, but he could see the irritation in her eyes. “Aethelred is a good man, an honest man, but he refuses to touch anyone without their consent. Even if he did, though, I’m afraid with this mind controlling collusion that even his perception will be distorted. Regardless, Aethelred has always been one to strive for peace… Perhaps he can be swayed into helping us. I’ll discuss it with him.”

  “Right, thanks,” Tray said, nodding absently as his brain swarmed with the endless, awful possibilities.

  “The time may come soon, Tray, when we’ll all be forced to choose sides. I hope that, no matter which one of them is proven the mind controller, we’ll remain allies.”

  Tray glanced down at the Affinity-enhancing suits, the kindest gesture he’d received from any of the adults at this school over the past month. He’d always had his reservations about Olalla Cosmos’s motives—anyone with a Mental Affinity was to be treated with caution—but her tone was so genuine now, and he saw his own strain and worry reflected in her eyes. If anyone would help him and his friends save this town, it would be her.

  “We will,” he assured her, his first statement as finite as his next. “See you at the trial tomorrow.”

  “If your sister doesn’t give me a massage, I’m gonna pummel you to death,” Nero grumbled to Calder as they approached the Residence Tower. The brute rubbed his over-sized muscles as the wintry wind cut at their backs, throwing the hoods of their dark sweatshirts over their heads. The sun had set hours ago, but the Rosses hadn’t permitted them to return to campus until they’d acquired at least five citizens to testify against Angor in court tomorrow.

  Too bad all of the citizens they’d recruited throughout the day were being paid off by Nero to testify against the Reggs instead.

  It certainly hadn’t taken much persuasion to gather twenty people who would speak against the Rosses. Since their hostile takeover, the economy in Periculand had plummeted while the tax rate had risen, creating animosity among the townsfolk. Although Calder had helped him throughout the day, he couldn’t determine if Nero’s dreams for the trial were better than the Rosses. It seemed unlikely the bully would be a more benevolent ruler, and yes, Adara would be free, but at the cost of endless debts and eternal servitude.

  All Calder knew was that if Nero did succeed in his scheme, he’d have to ensure he remained eternally at the brute’s side. And if Nero lost…he’d have to convince the Reggs he’d never truly been on his side at all.

  The real problem lay in the fact that Adara Stromer was the sole determiner of the trial’s result, and Adara Stromer was the least judicious, most impulsive person he’d ever known.

  “I don’t see how my sister’s refusal to massage you has anything to do with me,” Calder said in response to Nero’s threat of death by pummeling.

  “Well, I can’t beat up a girl,” he huffed, tilting his head to crack his neck, “and you’re basically her but male.”

  “Your logic is irrefutable,” Calder droned as they finally reached the tower’s entrance.

  Sensing the sarcasm, Nero glared at him before yanking the glass door open and stalking into the lounge, not bothering to lower his hood. Calder did slip his off and waltzed in with a high head and narrowed eyes, smirking when the other students shied away. His expression immediately soured as he noticed a horde of students clustered around one of the flatscreen televisions. The Rosses stood imperiously behind them, watching the news with manic glee.

  “The deed is done,” Nero said to his masters as he stepped beside them. Calder halted a few paces away, gaze flickering between the Reggs and the news that delighted them so: WACKO MURDERS TEENAGE BOY. “What’s going on here?”

  “We decided to release a statement to the press about Hastings’s death,” Artemis explained, dark eyes glowing in the reflection of the screen.

  “We’re about to bring you live footage from southern Ohio,” the reporter on the television said, “where a Wacko terrorist nam
ed Angor Periculy will soon stand on trial for murdering a young, teenage boy. As witnesses have stated, the man used his blood-vessel-bursting superpowers to kill the boy without any clear motive. Be warned that this man is mentally unwell. The coming footage might be difficult to watch…”

  “You told the public about the trial?” Calder asked before he could stop himself.

  “We thought it would be beneficial to remind the American people that the government is not the enemy, the Wackos are,” William informed him coolly. “With Mr. Ventura’s inauguration happening in a little over a month, he agreed it’s a good idea to keep the public alert of the threat.”

  “By feeding them lies?” Calder questioned through gritted teeth.

  Artemis finally pivoted her head toward him, her expression incredulous. “Do you deny that Angor killed Hastings?”

  “Can’t say; I didn’t witness it. I know Angor didn’t kill Hastings with his ‘blood-vessel-bursting superpowers.’”

  “He forced Hastings to use his own powers against himself,” Artemis snapped. “With the ability to control minds, he might as well have every Affinity.”

  Calder snorted to himself but didn’t bother to argue as the scene on the screen switched, bringing them live to Periculand’s police station. The image was a little blurry at first, but the camera soon settled on a figure nestled beyond the metal bars, her body lounging across a metal slab in an almost seductive pose—not that Calder found it seductive, but based on the mischievousness in her red eyes, an alluring aura was what she aimed for.

  “Hello,” she purred with a tone of grandeur, “I am the King of Periculand, the famous Angor Periculy who you all now fear because of my ‘blood-vessel-bursting Affinity.’”

  “I think the guy said ‘superpowers,’” a voice from behind the camera piped up, and Nero growled instinctively upon recognizing it as his stepbrother’s. “I don’t think most Reggs know what Affinities are.”