Exiled_Kenly's Story

by Sophie Davis

  “Keep your head down and your eyes open,” James said. “Better yet, turn invisible.”

  “But then you’ll look like you’re alone,” I protested, not wanting him to seem like an easy target.

  “Don’t worry about me. Worry about you. Yes, they’ll take me if they see me and have a chance. But you…,” he paused, worry evident on his features. “They’ll hunt you, Kenly. Now come on. We can’t just keep standing here.”

  The incorporeal state came easily, as if I’d been born with the Talent instead of acquiring the ability mere weeks ago. Thankfully I’d eaten most of my burger before causing a scene, so I had plenty of energy. James began walking and I fell in step beside him. Looking down to where our fingers were laced together, I realized I had to let him go. Just for now, I thought. He glanced over in my direction in surprise when I tried to pull my hand back, keeping a firm grip on me. Evidently, he thought I was going to run. Just when I thought I was going to have to break the no-talking rule, comprehension dawned on his features. Strolling along like that was a dead giveaway that he was walking with the Invisible Woman. I squeezed his hand tightly while he did the same to mine. Taking all of the comfort I could from his touch, I stored it up for later when I would surely need it most. My palm felt empty, cold, once his was gone.

  The night was pleasant, if a little wet with the light drizzle that started to fall from the sky above. In jeans, Honora’s sleeveless blouse, and sneakers, I was comfortable. I squinted down at my feet before remembering that they weren’t visible. The soles of my tennis shoes were well worn, but I was counting on still being able to outrun most any foe despite that.

  “Who were those men? Ali and the other guy?” I asked, my voice the lowest whisper.

  James spoke out of the side of his mouth, lips barely moving.

  “Tug’s mates. Network blokes.”

  “Network?” I breathed.

  “Chromes who run a sort of underground news frequency. They report things that mainstream media can’t. Or won’t. Like when an auction is scheduled. Tug’s involved with them, too. Though not as much since he’s taken ill. The Network used to be more proactive, doing the sort of things Riley was proposing the other night—you know, hunting the Poachers and all that.”

  “Used to?” I asked, honing in on the two words like a heat-seeking missile.

  “Yeah. The practice fell out of favor when it became clear the Network was losing more people than they were saving. A dead Chrome isn’t worth anything to the Poachers, but that doesn’t mean they’re above killing us,” James said, still attempting to speak like a ventriloquist.

  Apparently I’d been remiss in not finding out everything there was to know about the Poachers before now. Truthfully, I hadn’t realized how much there still was to learn. I finally got up the nerve to ask the one question I’d been dreading the most.

  “What did Ali mean about an auction? People don’t actually bid on Talents, do they?”

  James glanced over in my general direction, platinum eyes scanning the air for signs of a disturbance.

  “That’s precisely what they do. It’s bloody disgusting. Now be quiet, please. Someone will hear us.”

  Ignoring his warning, I asked the other question that had been on the tip of my tongue since James started talking about the Network.

  “How long have you known the Poachers were planning this huge auction? Is that what you were talking about earlier when you said it would be better if Willa told me?” Despite speaking as quietly as possible, I didn’t bother to hide the accusation in my tone. I was pissed and wanted him to know it.

  James sighed, whether from my ignoring his warning or my incessant questions, I wasn’t sure. Either way, my anger was stopping me from caring. I prayed the answer was something innocent, like he’d just found out.

  “Rumors of a big auction began not long after TOXIC was quelled and bits started coming out about the Created. Willa and Tug had been thinking up ways to bring you into the fold for weeks, but Tug was worried you’d leg it. Which would’ve been worse than you not knowing, but us still being able to keep an eye out for you. When Willa was tracking you that night, the one you had a bout with Monroe, we all knew we’d waited too long. You required protection. We took a poll, and Honora and I voted to tell you everything. About the Network, the Poachers, and the auction. The others opposed it.”

  “You should have told me,” I said.

  “Would you have run?” James asked.

  “Yes,” I replied automatically. And I would have too. Where? I didn’t have a clue. But had I known just how much danger the Poachers posed, that they were specifically seeking out Created to sell us off to the highest bidder, I’d have fled London in a heartbeat.

  “Then I’m glad we didn’t,” he said quietly. He looked down at his feet, and then smiled shyly, peeking over to where he estimated I was. Nervousness swam in those platinum of his eyes. Unsure of whether he meant for my safety’s sake, or for a different reason, I decided to just ask. If the answer was what I hoped it would be, he’d get a bit of much-deserved torturing. He wasn’t getting off the hook that easily.

  Before the words were out of my mouth, James came to an abrupt halt. Flinging out his arm to stop me, he inadvertently smacked me across the chest. I groaned. He held his finger to his lips then tugged on his earlobe. I nodded that I understood before remembering he couldn’t see me. This whole invisibility thing was hard to get used to.

  I focused my energy on my auditory senses, straining to hear whatever it was that had James’s hackles up. I saw them before I heard them. One block in front of us, four figures rounded the corner. My heart skipped two full beats when I recognized the ginger-haired boy. Light from a nearby streetlamp glinted off what I knew to be a large metal ring in his nose.

  James swore.

  I almost cried.

  “At least they aren’t Poachers,” he muttered.

  “How can you be sure?” I asked, surprised to find my mouth capable of forming words, let alone a coherent sentence.

  “Not well enough dressed. Even the lowest Poacher on the totem pole is well paid. They’re likely prigs looking to pick up some Globes. The Poachers gladly pay a pittance to other people for catching Chromes. And dodgy blokes like those are just as glad to take it,” he said.

  The quartet of prigs, as James called them, were laughing raucously as they made their way towards us. They had yet to notice us. Well, notice James anyway, since I was invisible.

  “Listen to me carefully,” I whispered as loudly as I dared. I moved closer to him so I could speak even softer, hoping my adamancy was being communicated without the volume. “We need to get away from them. We absolutely cannot engage in a fight with that group of people, do you understand? Please trust me, we must stay as far from those guys as possible.”

  As I spoke, I was already searching the street for possible escape routes and ranking them according to viability.

  James squinted briefly towards me, obviously frustrated with the lack of visual tells. He sucked in a deep breath.

  “How strong is your invisibility?” James whispered, skipping the indecision and questions. Once again, he reached a hand in my general direction.

  Without hesitation, I threaded my fingers with his. I knew what he wanted me to do and I hated that the outcome was probably going to disappoint him.

  Light Manipulators were able to extend their invisibility to objects they touched: clothes, bags, small trinkets. Particularly strong Light Manipulators were able to cloak larger items: chairs, couches, and, in some cases, other people. Being that it was a newly acquired Talent, I had no idea what the limits of my powers were.

  “Kenly?” James gently prompted.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’ve never put it to the test.”

  James squeezed my hand, rubbing those small circles with his thumb again.

  “I think you can do it. I believe in you.”

  All my life I’d been told my Higher Reasoning T
alent was strong. My instructors at the McDonough School awarded me high marks on my exams. I’d been assured that a position in the Crypto Division was mine for the taking upon graduation. But when I’d expressed interest in becoming a Hunter instead, no one had encouraged me. I was told that my Telekinesis was too weak and that Brains didn’t belong in the Hunters. No one believed that with hard work and dedication I could strengthen the weaker Talent and actually stand more than a snowball’s chance in hell of being placed in my dream post.

  Talia did, a pesky inner voice reminded me. And she’d paid me the highest possible compliment at the time, at least in my eyes. Talia Lyons—at the time, the darling of TOXIC and arguably the strongest natural Talent alive—told me that I reminded her of herself. And then she’d promised to help me achieve my dream.

  Searching James’s expression, I found the same unconditional faith that I’d seen in Talia’s eyes the day she asked to become my mentor. He really did believe in me.

  That was all the encouragement I needed.

  I closed my eyes and summoned every last bit of energy in my body. The rush that followed was intoxicating. I swelled with pride when I realized how easily I was now able to call my new Talents to the surface. Harnessing the power proved a little more difficult, however. I focused the energy, channeling it down my arm, into my fingers, and out through the pores of my skin that connected with James’s.

  He gasped. Even before I dared a peek, I knew James was incorporeal too. I’d actually done it.

  “Now what?” I asked, panting a bit from the effort of keeping both of us invisible.

  “Now we run.”

  His large warm hand still enveloping mine, James and I turned and ran in the opposite direction of our would-be attackers. Wordlessly, I tugged James to guide him across the street towards a small, dilapidated park. According to my earlier calculations, it was the most accessible and safest escape route. Accepting the role reversal without protest, he followed. Our shoes made soft scuffing noises on the pavement, but the foursome was too busy singing some bawdy tune about a girl named Nan to hear our getaway.

  James and I slipped through an open gate at the park’s entrance. My breathing was becoming labored, despite only running the equivalent of half a city block.

  TOO MUCH POWER. You’re overloading the circuits, my brain screamed.

  Talents are sort of like muscles, in that you have to build your way up. We were taught to incrementally increase the power to prevent injury or incident. And here I was, attempting a marathon when I’d previously only walked once around the block. This wasn’t good.

  I spotted a cluster of ancient trees beyond the fence. The three-foot thick trunks and plethora of low hanging branches seeped the surrounding area in shadows, providing an optimal hiding place.

  Yanking James toward the leafy shelter, I prayed that I could control the power just a little bit longer.

  Almost there. If you give up now and they see you, that was all a waste. This can’t end like your Vision.

  Sweat poured in a steady stream down my back, pooling at the base of my spine. My legs shook, knees threatening to buckle.

  Crap. Crap. Crap. Focus. Breathe. Clear your head. Don’t panic. The worst thing you can do right now is overthink the situation and drop your focus.

  As had been happening a lot lately, the voice inside of my head was not my own. Tonight, like most of the time I was in a panic, the words of wisdom were Talia’s. This time I welcomed them wholeheartedly. The familiar rage that was usually invoked by simply thinking her name didn’t consume me. Odd, I thought. A twinge of anger had made my already accelerated pulse kick up another notch, but that was all.

  Why the change?

  Black spots started to dot my vision.

  Forget it, save the guessing games for later. Now, concentrate. You will not give in. You can do this. You’re strong. You’re Created.

  I blinked and the spots disappeared. The trembling, though, had spread from my legs to my other appendages.

  “Kenly? Are you alright?” James asked quietly, the vibrations causing our fingers to rub against each other.

  The scumbags were parallel to us now, passing directly in front of the entrance to the park. In our haste to escape, we’d left the gate ajar.

  Shit. Mistake. Is it a big one, though? Need to be more careful. Attention to detail is what keeps you alive.

  The woman who’d attacked me with a butter knife in my Vision paused by the open gate, peering into the park. Her eyes narrowed to slits, as if trying to make out something in the distance. Trying to make us out, I realized. Pulling on James’s arm so he’d get the message, I abruptly halted, hoping it would give her less to pick up on.

  “Don’t move,” I breathed, cursing the fact he couldn’t read my lips. He seemed to understand, though, and held completely still.

  “See something, Karin?” one of the woman’s companions asked.

  Karin blinked and shook her head. “Naw. Just a trick of the lights all it is.”

  I blew out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. A trick of the light—that was exactly what most people told themselves when they caught the faint glimmer of someone who’d gone invisible.

  The quartet began moving again.

  “We’re safe. You can relax,” James whispered once they’d passed.

  I wanted to hold still a while longer, remain invisible, and stay undetectable. Just in case one of the thugs decided to look back. Logic and a healthy dose of foreboding told me to conserve my energy. It was a safe bet I was going to need it later. Hesitantly, I let go. Let the store of energy race back throughout my body with a snap.

  As if coming from the opposite end of a tunnel, I heard a voice calling my name. James. But it was too far, too faint, and I was too…done.

  Releasing all of that power, after working so hard to maintain and focus it, left me utterly deflated. My knees literally gave out from under me, and I fell to the leaf-strewn ground. It was just like I imagined a too-full balloon must feel when all of the air was forcefully expelled. On the plus side, I no longer felt like I was breathing through a wet cloth, so that was a bonus.

  “Answer me, Kenly. Are you alright?” James demanded sharply, leaning over and shaking my shoulder. I could tell it was concern, not anger, making him cross.

  I weakly nodded, still kneeling in the dirt, hoping the gesture was convincing.

  James visibly relaxed, seemingly assured that I wasn’t going to faint from overexertion. That made one of us—I still thought smelling salts might be in my immediate future.

  “That was brilliant, truly. I’ve never met someone who could pull off something like that. Particularly for so long.” His concern had been swapped for a million watt smile, lighting up our shadowy shelter.

  “What? Did you doubt me? What happened to believing in me?” I attempted to scoff, not quite able to fully embrace the ploy yet.

  This is so not the time to flirt, Kenly.

  “I did. I mean, I do. I knew you’d be able to do it.”

  I preened under the praise, only to have his next words tear the smile from my face.

  “Right lucky that Willa wasn’t with us, isn’t it?” he said, using the British slang for lucky. “I reckon cloaking three people would’ve been bloody impossible.”

  I instantly felt cold all over. The world began to tilt to the left. Only James’s firm grip on my shoulder kept me from falling over to lay in the dirt.

  I’d changed the future. I’d prevented James’s death. I should be exuberant, thrilled that I’d been able to use my gift to help someone. To help him.

  Why, then, was I so scared?

  JAMES AND I stayed huddled in the shadows, listening for signs of the next threat. And there would be a next threat I knew. With the way things were unfolding, it would take nothing short of a miracle for us to make it through the night without fighting for our lives. And our freedom.

  Unfortunately I was now paying a hefty price for using so much power
to evade the group from my Vision. But I didn’t even want to think about what could have happened if it had actually come to blows. Would Willa’s absence have been enough to save James? Or would it have ended in tears regardless, his lifeless body lying abandoned in an alleyway.

  Just the thought of it made my heart ache. And the exhaustion settling in my bones was a physical ache. There was literally not an inch of me, from my head to my toes, that didn’t pulse with a steady pain. I made a vow right then and there: if we made it through the night, I was going to start practicing with my Created Talents every day. I never wanted to be in this position again. After all, what was the point in having all these cool gifts if I couldn’t use them properly?

  Buck up, Kenly. Put your big girl pants on. You’ve survived war, days without food, assaults from random strangers. Throbbing muscles and a little fatigue is nothing.

  The mental pep talk breathed new life into me, giving me just enough strength to still the tremors and right the world around me.

  On either side of the narrow park, the streets were eerily quiet. Traffic was nonexistent. Pedestrians had long since vacated the sidewalks. It seemed as though all of London was inside, reluctant—rightfully so—to leave the safety and comfort of home for fear of never returning.

  “We should probably get moving, huh?” I asked. “Find a better hiding place for the night?”

  While the trees provided decent cover on one side, the semicircle configuration left us exposed on the other. The hazy, cloud-covered moon helped, but a keen eye would be able to see our silhouettes.

  “Let’s rest here a bit longer,” James said, studying me intently. “Catch our breath.”

  I knew the respite was entirely for me. James didn’t break a sweat in our half block sprint and, if his antsy disposition was any indicator, he was still riding an adrenaline wave. I envied him that. Normally, I would have been have been right there alongside him, raring and ready to go.

  I leaned against a tree, the rough bark scratchy through the thin material of my shirt. Looking back towards the road, I realized we were creating large silhouettes that were easily seen from back there. My brain told me we needed to minimize our visibility.