Altruist (The Altruist Series Book 1)

by Walsh, Ashley

  Abel, noticing that this is seconds away from turning into a drawn out monologue jumps in, “No don’t worry about it, these sort of rides make me queasy anyway.” He flashes a smile. “I get crazy motion sickness.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  “Yeah, absolutely, you guys have fun, I’m going to head over to the game booths. Come find me when you’re done.” He releases my hand and, not wanting Asher to see me too bummed out and feel uncomfortable about anything, I smile and watch him walk away.

  Reaching forward I grab Asher’s arm and hold onto him, “Looks like it’s you and me, Asher.”

  He laughs and nods over in Abel’s direction. “Seems like you guys are pretty comfortable together.” I want to shout Yes! He’s amazing, but Asher is so practical that he would think that was strange and so as to avoid a conversation in which for the first time in my life I’m behaving like a total girl I simply smirk, “Yeah, he’s alright.”

  Asher rejoins Blake and Willa's conversation but I hang back. That adrenaline, that force of energy I felt moments ago has begun to dissolve and it isn’t long before my mind begins to wander. I stare down at the rough patch of dirt beneath my feet, the fairgrounds is normally home to horse and livestock and the air still smells of hay. My eyes start to feel heavy and a yawn creeps from my lungs, shaking my head a few times trying to push away the sleepiness, I wish I was in bed. Glancing down at my watch the digits read 7:10 pm, how can I possibly be this tired?

  Inch by inch the line moves forward and for the first time I realize that I’m actually going to have to get on the sketchy contraption. Willa, Blake, and Asher flash the man operating the machine-of-death a wristband and climb aboard. I start to roll up my sleeves so that the man can scan my arm but my jacket gets in the way and what should be an easy fix becomes increasingly complicated with my nerves interfering with basic movements. “Sorry, just a second.” I fumble with my jacket and feel a yank on my arm.

  “You’re holding up the line!” a raspy voice chides. “Stand to the side and let other people on while you’re trying to get with the program.” Asher looks back at me and tries to jump out of the bucket he’s strapped into but before he’s able the ride attendant pushes a red button and Asher swings up into the air, making room for the next couple to get on. I wave up at it him signaling that its fine and not to worry, he leans back and his face disappears.

  Walking over to the side of the ride, I exhale a sigh of relief that my clumsiness has saved me from the stomach turning ride. I hunch over and rummage through my bag in search of some chapstick; I always carry some with me and the amount of times I apply it daily may be considered obsessive. I drop my bag to the ground and kneel over it, so focused on my current mission that I barely notice the tall figure standing behind me before I’m shoved into the dark field past the ride’s boundary. Falling back onto my hands I yell, “What are you doing?! Who are you? Here take my bag, you can have it!” I throw it at him but the man, dressed in dark slacks, a dark shirt and brown overcoat slowly moves towards me. I scramble backwards with each step he takes toward me but before I know it, he is hovering above me.

  “What do you want?! Help!” I scream, raising my arms, a last ditch effort at protecting myself and squeeze my eyes, tears streaming down my face from fear.

  “Oof.” The man groans and I hear a thud. Opening my eyes I make out that another body has driven the man to the ground and is bringing his fists down through the air with such velocity that blood begins to spiral and I am sure that the man will stop breathing. I find my way to my knees and stand up, yelling for help. The man flips his attacker over and throws him onto his back. It’s Abel. My heart races. Abel brings his knee up into the man’s side over and over until he falls back. My attacker glances at me then runs off, disappearing into the trees. I rush over to Abel, helping him up onto his feet, “Oh my God, are you okay?”

  I’m panicked and feel like my heart is about to burst from my chest. He reaches his hand to his forehead and when he brings it back down, blood trickles along his fingertips. Quickly he regains composure. “I’m fine, are you alright?” His voice creaks and sounds distressed, taking my face in his hands, he looks me over. “I heard you yelling and I got here as fast as I could. I’m sorry, Cate.”

  I gasp for breath, trying to calm my heart rate. “I’m okay, I don’t know what happened. It was so fast.”

  Abel looks over his shoulder scanning the tree line. “Did you see where he went?”

  “I’m not sure,” I squint, hoping that I’ll be able to make out his path in the darkness. “No, he’s gone I think.”

  “Let me take you home,” he says and grabs my hand.

  The ride home is filled with anxious silence until my text message alert goes off. “Is that your parents?” Abel asks.

  I unlock my phone and glance at the text, “No, Asher wondering where I went.”

  “Oh.”

  I don’t know why he’s being so quiet and distant now; the moments creep along, like we really are just strangers who’ve only known each other for a few days. He turns onto my street. “What are you going to tell your parents? Do you need me to go talk to them with you?” He pulls up to my house and puts the car in park.

  I take his cue and match my tone to his, even and emotionless. “No, I’ll be fine, thanks for the ride.” I reach for the door handle and pull, but he jets his arm out and holds me back.

  “I’m sorry for being so quiet, I just shouldn’t have left your side and I feel badly for what happened. It shouldn’t have.” He looks down at the steering wheel, I take his hand in mine. They’re defined and rough, masculine.

  “Abel, I am so thankful you got there when you did, that you were there at all. You have nothing to feel badly about, I promise.”

  His eyes meet mine. “As long as you allow me to be in your life Cate, I won’t let anyone hurt you, not again.” His voice is so serious it sends chills up my spine. I believe him. More than anything I have ever believed in my life, I believe him. And maybe because my heart is still pumping from the attack, maybe because I wanted him from the second he said hello in the library, maybe because of how genuine his words feel now and how much pain it seemed to cause him that he couldn’t prevent what happened, I lean over the center console and press my lips lightly to his. They’re sweet, soft. He sits there motionless, caught off guard in the driver seat for a moment until I feel his hand reach up to my face and his lips reciprocate. His strength is noticeably held back and all that remains is gentleness. When he pulls away, my eyes are still closed and my neck is still arched upwards, and even though I initiated that, I was not prepared for how I would feel when it ended.

  “Go inside before your parents wonder what we’re doing out here.” Abel smiles and I am knocked out of my daze.

  “Okay…” My words linger, I am not ready to leave. “Tonight was…awful and still really great somehow.” I swallow hard as if to contain myself from saying more than I should.

  “Can I see you sometime this weekend?” His eyebrows pull up and he bites his lips, those lips, and I feel a sudden source of yearning.

  “Yeah. Goodnight Abel, thanks again…for everything.”

  He smiles and his eyes light up, “Goodnight Cate.”

  I walk up to door, partially skipping, and prepare myself for the conversation that waits inside.

  ###

  Abel walks through his front door and into the living room, Eliath and Shoshanna are sitting, reading in matching white leather chairs facing the fireplace. Noticing his son’s disheveled appearance, Eliath stands, “What happened? Shoshanna, grab the first aid kit.”

  “I’m fine, nothing more than superficial scrapes.” Abel stares at them and clenches his jaw. “There was another assassination attempt tonight, in public this time. They’re getting desperate.”

  Chapter 6 — Abel

  My eyes open and blink sleep away. A ceiling fan whirls above me. I feel a breeze travel across my bedroom from an open window and my
skin cools at its touch. I love Sundays. Rolling over onto my side I immediately reach for my phone. In two weeks of knowing Cate, this has become my routine. Illuminating the screen, I see her picture stare back at me, but no texts; she must still be sleeping. Stretching my legs over the side of the bed, I stand and throw on a green t-shirt and black basketball shorts and glance at the gold currency pin that sits on my desk. What an idiotic concept. I refuse to wear it unless I have to so I leave it behind and make my way out of my room and down the hall into the kitchen.

  “Abel, you’re up early.” My mother’s eyes meet mine.

  “Yeah, I smelled you burning something down here and thought I might need to come check it out.” Dad laughs from behind a newspaper.

  “Ha ha, very funny, you know those cooking classes I took back in Berlin are actually paying off quite a bit young man.” I roll my eyes and sit down to the table slowly, my muscles burn from the previous night’s events and Dad undoubtedly notices.

  Peering from the corner of his paper, Dad says, “Are you alright?” His remark comes off smug.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, how’s your shoulder?” I smirk.

  “Just because you’ve mastered an arm lock or two doesn’t mean anything.” He reaches up and rubs his shoulder. “Egos aside, are you okay?” Mom sets plate of pancakes on the table and I reach to grab a few.

  “Yeah, I guess I’m out of practice. Training didn’t use to take so much out of me.”

  “We’ve been too relaxed recently…” he glances at Mom. “It’s important we keep up a strict regiment, especially with the close calls we’ve had lately. We’re close this time, closer than we’ve ever been, wouldn’t want to lose it all just because our hand-to-hand combat wasn’t up to par.” He smiles at me and though I hate to admit it, he’s right. I’ve been slacking.

  Mom sits and pours me a glass of orange juice, “Any plans today? Seeing Cate?”

  “We’re supposed to check out some book store in town,” I manage to say through bites.

  “Have you been able to assess her any further?” Dad interjects.

  “She’s brilliant, I mean the way her mind works, and it’s more than I was initially prepared for. I didn’t expect her to advance so quickly.”

  “We’re in her life now,” Mom chimes in. “And with other tools in play, quicker advancement is to be expected. How’s her strength?”

  “I’m not sure, it’s not like I can bring up a rock throwing contest in casual conversation and not come off as a freak.”

  “No, I know, you’re right,” Dad continues. “But try to find reasons to get her moving, situations in which her physicality might show itself naturally. It’s been quiet, but all that means is that they’re reorganizing, planning. We have time, but let’s err on the side of safety and assume it’s not much time.”

  My phone vibrates across the table and I reach to grab it.

  Morning! What’s the plan? Am I meeting you at the book store?

  “Is that her?” Mom asks.

  “Yeah she wants to know if I’m going to pick her up or if we should meet there.” Dad pulls the paper up again and his sudden disinterest makes it pretty clear that he’s testing me, seeing how I’ll respond, seeing if I’ve forgotten our purpose and am simply assimilating into a normal teenage life.

  No…how far is it from your house?

  About 6 miles, why?

  Let’s run.

  Seriously?

  I set the phone down and gulp the rest of the OJ in my glass. Standing up, I walk to the front closet and grab a hoody. “Keys are on my desk in the study Abel,” Dad echoes from the kitchen. My phone vibrates once more and I reach into my pocket to grab it.

  I’ll meet you at the end of Vestry Street, halfway between our houses. Ready to run.

  I smile and slide the phone back into my pocket, “Don’t need them Dad…” I step into the center of the foyer so that I can see his face. “We’re going to run there.” He smiles and nods in approval.

  My father might think that I’m getting caught up in the idea of this suburban life, that I am unaware of my purpose, that I have somehow forgotten why I am here, but he is wrong. I think of nothing else.

  The air outside is crisp today, something about the way the wind flows through the mountains makes each inhale line my lungs with energy. The temperature is cool but the lack of clouds makes the suns presence so much more intense; it’s perfect running weather. I take a path that stays within the sector so that I won’t have to come into contact with any checkpoints and be harassed about my lack of currency class identification. I round the corner and step onto Vestry Street and I see her smiling at the other end of the street. My heart beats so quickly that I feel as though my chest is struggling to contain it. I have dreamt of a time when she and I could truly be, when things would be simple, and though they’re not, if I allow myself to forget the past and what may come of the future, the present seems beautiful. She is beautiful, and I will make the conscious decision to enjoy this beautiful day with her.

  “There you are!” She throws her arms around my neck and pulls me close, her lips grazing mine. I grin.

  “Ready?” I ask then grab her hand and take off down the street. At first she falls a few steps behind, clearly unready for my abrupt takeoff.

  “Abel!” she screams, laughing, but it isn’t long before her pace is even with mine. I love the burst of energy I gain when I’m near her. She makes me feel invincible. I slowly begin to gain speed and though I expect her to begin falling behind again, she doesn’t.

  My life, for the most part, has followed a specific routine, specific events in a reoccurring pattern. But this moment, right now, is new and I realize that between strides. We are creating something together, a memory. I feel her form by my side begin to reach past mine. Is she passing me? How? My mind is snapped back into reality as I strain to find whatever energy I have stored up, and begin to close the gap again. We continue this cycle, down the side streets and alleys, her edging ahead and then me countering until we reach the book store. I cannot remember the last time I pushed myself that hard, leaning over against the brick building I gasp for air.

  “Are you okay old man?” Cate smiles, I look up to see her ready to run another 6 miles and out of habit I reach up and place my hand over her heart, its even beat pulsing through her body. She moves backwards, “What are you doing?” laughing through squinted eyes.

  “Sorry, I just…”

  “You just what? Expected I couldn’t handle your 6 mile sprint?” I stand there, leaning up against the wall. No, I didn’t expect that, I think and I laugh. She grabs my hand and directs me inside, “Come on old man, there’s a tropper novel I’ve wanted to get ahold of.”

  I follow closely behind and the next 30 minutes are comprised of her grabbing book after book, each more engrossing than the last, and me, captivated by her. We eventually land onto facing, overstuffed chairs and she pulls her legs up to her chest and sits there, perusing through her possible purchases completely content. Even though I have a stack of books of my own to skim through, my eyes are continually drawn to her. Sun breaking through the windows and cascading down upon her face, I wish I could keep her this way forever, happy, and in love, and safe.

  I force myself to take another book from the stack to my right and glace at the cover but my mind is still focused on Cate, my Cate. Just as I flip to the title page I hear a voice; its creaks only cease to be interrupted by raspiness. I know this voice.

  “That’s a great book,” a woman says, leaning over Cate’s chair pointing.

  “Oh, is it? Yeah I’ve been looking for some casual reads, do you really recommend it?” Cate asks, unknowing of the evil that stands before her.