Half-Breed

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Half-Breed Page 12

by Zachary Smith


  Chapter 12

  He needn’t explain further as I already know what’s happen. Matthew has lost control of his power. Riley says something happened on the Rugby field. Already I can see students sitting near the pitch, enjoying their break between lessons, only for Matthew to explode in an array of lights, firing off bolts in all directions. It chills me as my mind plays it out over and over again.

  “Mitch! Are you listening to me?” cries Riley, booming his voice through the speaker.

  “Yes.” I flatly reply, trying to reel in my runaway thoughts.

  I thought I had more time to prepare for my return, but that’s been stolen from me by the actions of another. Forcing me to play my hand. I can’t just leave him, I know that, but what am I to do?

  “Wait there!” I demand. “I’ll be with you soon.” Then I end the call, unable to listen to Riley lose it any further.

  Fearing what lies beyond, I’m stopped in my tracks before the front door, afraid of stepping over the threshold to join the outside world. And with a clammy hand, I grab the doorknob, trying it slightly in an explosion of anxiety, only to be met by a perfectly blue sky.

  “Going somewhere?” asks mum, making me leap from the door, leaving it wide open.

  Heart pumping, I try to respond, but words fail me. “Well! Someone’s jumpy.” She adds with a laugh.

  “College.” I shoot back. “I’m going to college.”

  “That’s great,” she says, waving a spatula in hand. “Take a coat, it’s cold out.” She adds before returning to the stove, and a competition with the radio – who can sing the loudest.

  The first step is painful, my foot hovering above the ground, swaying in the light breeze. I know I need to touch it to the floor, but knowing and doing are two completely separate things. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and force my foot down, fully exposing myself to the outside world. So far so good, no casualties. Now I just need to get to college, find Riley, find my brother and get home… easy.

  Then I’m off, running the back roads, assuming the bus would be packed at this time in the afternoon, and the more I avoid large crowds the better. Surprisingly, my muscles don’t tire instantly as they normally would, and I feel as if I could run all day at this rate with the unspent energy my body has stockpiled over the last few weeks. And with the added help of my baggy sweatpants, I’m able to reach speeds I’ve never have before, taking long quick strides as I power through the empty residential streets.

  The clock tower is a welcomed sight, it means I’ve nearly made it and just at the right time as my body begins to feel the strain and slows slightly. I start to brace myself, knowing only too well the sway my power has over me, how enticing it can be and worst of all, it’s destructive nature. I can only hope Matthew is strong enough to fight it and has had no trouble wielding his newfound abilities. But that thought is quickly replaced with an image of him suspended in mid-air firing off bolts of intense light.

  It’s only when I make it to the rugby field, packed with students that I begin to realise how foolish I’ve been. Not only could Matthew have already recently lost control, but now I’ve included myself into the chaotic mix – the bigger liability – amidst these innocents.

  To the distance I see a pair of hands frantically waving, it’s Riley. And as I pass a number of students, each sitting in circles watching the players practice, I notice not one of them is showing any signs of stress.

  “Get off the pitch!” a person yells.

  Distracted by the many calm faces, I’ve unknowingly wandered onto the playing field, centred between large bulky players. One of which runs up to me with blue eyes that match the sky above. “Oi! You stupid? I said get off the pitch!” They yell. It’s Patrick, his face flushed and clammy, with sweat dripping from his clumped hair.

  “Oh! Mitchy, sorry man, didn’t recognise you.” He scoffs, noticeably keeping his distance.

  Could Matthew have told him? Surely not, as that would be the biggest mistake, for Patrick is known to be a gossip, with the inability to keep anything to himself. Already my eyes start darting from one player to the next, then the rest of students who’re all staring at me as they whisper. Could they all know?

  “Mitchy!” scoffs Patrick, as his shakes his head. “You there? You need to get off the pitch man!”

  “Oh,” I mumble, head down. “Sorry.”

  “Your brother has been acting weird lately too, this a twin thing?” he laughs. “Anyways, when you see him next tell him thanks for doing a runner mid-practice, and I’ll be expecting a call from his with an excuse.”

  Passing the many glares of the other players whose training I’ve interrupted, I make my way off the field towards Riley. Even he looks embarrassed for me. “Are you ok?” he asks.

  “Fine,” I snap as I walk by, wanting to free myself from the gawking masses.

  He follows as I knew he would, eager to get away as much as I am. In silence, we make our way to the back of the main campus, the furthest we could possibly get from the rugby field. “He said Matthew did a runner?” I ask, perching myself on a low wall.

  “That’s what I wanted to tell you!” he stresses, sitting by my side as we overlook the carpark. “Matthew was fine to start with, playing the best I’ve ever seen him.” He then hesitates, watching his dangling legs nervously. “But then something happened to him, it’s like he just… flipped.”

  Having known Riley for years, I can always tell when he’s struggling to piece his words together. Instead, he just blabs, making no points unless he’s confronted. “What are you trying to say Riley?” I firmly ask.

  His eyes shoot to the floor, evading mine. “Ok,” – he takes a deep breath – “you know I’ve always liked your brother, right?”

  “Right.” I confirm.

  “And I’d never speak badly of him, ever.”

  “I know that.”

  “And I’d never make anything up that’ll–”

  “Riley! Just tell me what happened.” I demand.

  “Ok, to start with it looked like he was having a fit, so everyone crowded him, but no one knew what to do. It didn’t matter, though, as he then began to run, in my direction. So I thought nothing of it, just that he must have hurt himself and was running to the nurse, rather than stay and be ridiculed by his teammates.” He swallows hard and mumbles to himself briefly like he’s practising what to say before saying it. “As he ran by, he was shielding his eyes, but for a split second, I saw them. They were pure white Mitch. I’m talking no colour to them. At all!”

  Relieved. A feeling I wasn’t expecting as a conclusion to all this. But it means he didn’t hurt anyone, and at the first sign of trouble he ran, taking himself out the way of the public, ensuring their safety.

  “But that’s not all.” Adds Riley. “I know it sounds crazy, but his hands were glowing. It was like he had a torch lit up under his skin.”

  “Oh,” I say, trying to sound somewhat surprised.

  He shakes his head. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me, it sounds stupid hearing it… and I’m the one saying it!”

  Obviously, I wasn’t convincing enough.

  I contemplate telling him everything right there and then, knowing only too well what it’s like to start distrusting your own mind. And if only to save him from looking for answers, which could risk our exposure if he confides in the wrong person. “Riley…” I say after a deep breath.

  Mimicking that of a child sulking, Riley simply grunts, before grudgingly turning to me, bouncing his curls. “I believe you,” I add, trying to reassure him.

  “No, you don’t.” He replies. “I don’t even know if I believe myself anymore.”

  “Listen to me. I need to tell you something, but not here… On the beach, it’ll be quieter.”

  Concerned, Riley scans my face with his blue eyes. “Mitchell?” he questions.

  “Just follow me.” I order.

  The walk is a silent and awkward one, but thankfully the beach is only a short dist
ance away and we make it to the cliff top in no time at all. From here the water looks calm, a sheet of blue that runs back to the horizon, meeting the lighter blue of the sky. “Here?” asks Riley, pointing to the base of a tree.

  “No, it’s too busy with dog walkers. We’ll go down to the beach.” I reply.

  The only way down from the clifftops are concrete zigzag paths that have been cut into the side of the cliffs. Although to look at they’re short, the walk is much longer, leaving me puffed out as we reach the bottom. “Here?” asks Riley.

  I take a quick scan, noticing two, maybe three people stood far out in the distance. Other than that it’s empty, as I thought it would be for this time of the year. “Maybe a little bit further towards the sea,” I reply.

  Leaving footprints in the otherwise unmarked surface, I walk to the middle of a section situated between two rock groynes, ensuring no one is around before perching upon the golden yellow sand facing the ocean. Riley joins me after kicking up a small sandstorm, pulling his leg in with his hands and resting his chin on his knees. It’s peaceful, a place I’ve always come to when I’ve needed to think. There’s something soothing about the waves crashing onto the shore, or like today, looking over the flatness of the sea, watching as it generates small ripples.

  “So,” starts Riley, grabbing a handful of sand which he lets slowly fall through his fingers. “You need to tell me something?”

  I go over the many different ways I can tell him in my head, with each attempt ending with him either getting angry or laughing in my face, until I just decide to be straight with him; to the point. “Matthew and I have recently gone through some changes, which has given us abilities.”

  He stops playing with the sand like his body has become stuck in time and any hope of judging a reaction is dashed as his face stays solid, empty of all emotion. “You heard what I said, right?” I ask.

  “This a joke?” he jeers through a sarcastic laugh.

  My eyes narrow in on him. “I think you know it’s not Riley. You saw it for yourself. We were born like it, and apparently, we’re not the only ones.” Hearing myself speak, I realise how ridiculous it all sounds, and wonder whether I’d believe any of it myself had it come from Riley. “Matthew can do something with light whereas I can… make fire.”

  To his feet within seconds, he leans over and firmly looks down upon me. “You brought me all the way down here to tell me that you and Matthew have… superpowers?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Is this a stupid joke you’re both playing on me?”

  “Of course not!” I shoot back.

  “Ya know I was really scared for him, Mitchell! And it was all for some stupid little game you’re playing!” Mockingly clapping, he kicks at the sand and sends a cloud of yellow mist up into the air, covering me completely. “Real funny Mitchell.” He sneers as he storms away.

  Angered, I feel a burst of energy irrupt within my gut, followed by a dark cloud falling upon me. I try to resist it, but the pull is too strong, one I feel I can’t deny. Shaking my head free of the fine grains of sand, I rise to my feet. “Don’t you walk away from me human!” I roar.

  He stops immediately and cautiously turns to me. “M-M-Mitch?” he stutters.

  The fear in his eyes delights me and I smirk, glaring deeply at him. “You can’t even begin to comprehend my power!” I boast, throwing my hands out to the side and allowing the burning sensation to flow through them, igniting a blaze at my fingertips.

  Terrified by the sight I now display to my audience, Riley jumps back only to fall to the ground in a mess. “What’s wrong with you?” he yells.

  And with flames falling to the sand, leaving two neat lines of fire in my wake, I descend upon him, laughing as he cowers beneath me. “I’ll show you who’s joking!” I roar, readying myself to strike my prey.

 

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