Altruist (The Altruist Series Book 1)

by Walsh, Ashley

  This time, as the doors open this time, i rip off the left sleeve of my T-shirt and fit it over my head and secure it into place around my nose and mouth. I glance briefly at the dog and the man and then at the boys "what you looking at?" The familiar remark rolls off my back. Instead of standing and gawking my legs shoot into action and I sprint towards the wall at my left. Accelerating as quickly as I can in order to lift my body from the ground high enough for my hand to catch a small divot in the rotting and worn wood. I pull myself to the top and lie on my stomach underneath a tarp, breathing in slowly the air above the dirt maze, like gulps of fresh water and scanning my surroundings. The boys drop their dice and sprint towards the wood, jumping up and reaching towards the sky. They kick their feet at the bottom of the fence, struggling to make their way off the ground.

  “Stupid girl!” One of the boys shout.

  I watch them kick at the dirt, eventually giving up and returning to their makeshift table. I rest my cheek against my hands and breath deeply, closing my eyes.

  When I open them again, I’m laying on the medical table in the white room. The glass partition returns to its home in the left side of the table and I sit up.

  “How was that?” I ask.

  Judah stares at the screen of his computer, charts and digits zooming across monitor.

  “That was good.” Abel smiles.

  “Can I have another go?” I ask.

  Abel laughs.

  “Cate, there will be plenty of time for environmental training.”

  I swing my legs over the table and stand, following Abel out of the room and towards the black hallway. Before I leave I turn and glance at Judah. I want to say ‘bye’, or ‘thanks’; more importantly, I want to know what he thinks. If my reactions and decisions were intelligent enough, if I scored well. He never looks up at me even though I linger for a moment. I press my lips together and turn back around, jogging slowly to catch up to Abel, the doors creaking shut behind me.

  The ground’s training facility is an extensive maze of rope courses and equipment encircled by a high white marble wall. Though I feel that I’m being prepared for a war, I’ve heard little about what the plan is once I leave this place, or if there is even a plan at all. The halls in The Manor are too quiet and I miss the sound of Max and Sophie bickering, the sound of my mother arguing with me over how important breakfast is. I miss the smell of my room, I miss waking up to pictures of my friends, and I miss my life. I haven’t been permitted to see my family since I’ve been here. I wouldn't want you to be distracted at this critical point, I hear Eliath's words run on an incessant loop. Why? Why is this moment critical? I've heard nothing but a series of, frankly, unimaginable stories and the harder I push myself, the longer I'm here, the more isolated I feel from the world. The world I am meant to protect. It’s as though they’re trying to break me down so that they can rebuild me into the image they expect me to fit. But I don’t want to be that person, I want to be who I am.

  Approaching the marble door that seals the training center, I place my hand against the triangular symbol like Abel taught me. I still have no idea how it works. The identification chip in my arm alerts the city to my whereabouts, that makes sense to me, but this, this symbol isn’t electronic and its inner workings baffle me. I stare at the iron triangle, the symbol of the guild with its horizontal lines outstretching the width of the shape, signifying the balance that the guild stands for; it means nothing to me. I pray that one day it does mean something, that it stands for something that resonates somewhere deep inside of me, that all of this work, that putting the people I love at risk, is worth something, anything.

  I stand back as the horizontal bars pull apart, over and under the triangle and the doors open. Abel is already standing in the middle on a blue mat.

  “Where have you been? You’re late,” he says as I drop the bag containing my shoes and a water bottle on the ground. I plop beside it, pulling a boot out and lacing it up. “I’m only five minutes late.” I stare up at him irritated. “Just one of those mornings, you know? Hey how is it that it’s okay for me to use my phone here? How is it okay for any of you to use such communication at all, for that matter,” I say.

  “There are scrambler devices on all of our compounds, blurs the signal and makes any and all communication undetectable to anyone who may be interested in such things,” he says like he’s rambling off a safety brochure of sorts.

  I narrow my eyes. “Right. I used to be the sort of person who never cared about what the council witnessed me do or say.” I look around at the large white dome. “Now I’m just full of secrets.”

  He clenches his jaw, and I know that he’s taken my remark as passive aggressive, which is fine, because I meant it that way. But instead of countering my words, he picks up a medicine ball and paces the mat until I stand again.

  After an hour of cardio and weight lifting, beads of sweat gather on my forehead. “Remember the strike defense I showed you yesterday?” he asks and I nod, gulping water from the white bottle that has quickly become my best friend. “I want you to try it on me today.”

  He readies his stance, preparing for impact. I squint my eyes. “You want me to hit you in the chest?” I ask and this time he nods. “Why? Can’t I just work on the dummy over there like I have been?”

  “You need to get comfortable with hitting flesh, and a dummy can’t offer you that. So come on, hit me.”

  I toss the water bottle to the side of the mat and ready my stance the way he taught me. Quickly, I propel my open palm towards his chest as hard as I can. He sidesteps my thrust and catches my wrist, pulling my arm behind my back in a fluid motion. “You can’t look at where you’re going hit some—” I stomp on his foot as hard as I can and he’s caught off guard, giving me the time I need to free myself from his clutch. I hold onto his bicep with both hands and pull him over my back so that he flips and lands on his back at my feet. I drop to my knee and bring my forearm close enough to his throat that his hands claw at my skin.

  He laughs and a twinge of success ignites inside of me. His hands raise to my cheeks and his soft touch sends chills straight though my core. I have missed him. He’s become this drill sergeant when what I really need is my boyfriend. He pulls me close and my forearm releases as I place my hands flat against the mat on either side of him head. As his lips graze mine, I feel normal. I need this, more than anything, please let me feel normal again. My eyes close and he rolls me over onto my back, effortlessly resting his body on top of mine, his hand against my hip.

  “Where have you been?” I whisper in between his kisses. The question paralyzes him and I kiss his neck, urging him to stay close but it’s too late. My silly question has pushed him away for some reason and I immediately regret it with all my heart. He sits down beside me, his arms propped against his knees.

  “I need you to be ready,” he says. I sit up, and touch his arm. “I need to know that you’ll be okay. It’s all I think of.”

  I stand and walk over to the end of the blue mat. "What more can I do? I've done every single thing you have asked of me, all of it, without question. I have never questioned you Abel! Do you have any idea how difficult that is? To run into a great unknown with someone that just appeared one day out of the blue? Told you that you've lived a million lives and takes you from your home?" My voice rises, higher than I've heard it in quite some time, and all of that pent up emotion and love and sadness and hurting collides together in my heart and penetrates the air at once. And this time, I am unable to bite my tongue, to hold it in, to be 'strong'. I turn around and face him, expecting something, anything to be shown on his face. Instead, I'm met with the same blank stare that I have come to know far too well. "Abel, for God's sake, say something!" I yell, wild and belligerent in my anger.

  He stands and moves towards the door leading out into the training field.

  “That’s it? You’re just going to walk away? To leave? You’re good at that aren’t you? You’re good at leaving me alone.”
The words seethe and burn the entire journey from my heart to my mouth and I know immediately that I’ve gone too far.

  He stops, standing still, staring straight ahead for a moment before slightly turning his jaw so that the outline of his mouth is barely visible. “I don’t argue with children.” And with that he leaves the training room, passing Eliath on his way out.

  I turn and hit the wall, pain shoots through my knuckles but the physical manifestation of discomfort doesn’t come close to that which lies within my soul.

  “Running a bit behind today?” Eliath taps his watch.

  I turn and stare at Eliath.

  “Are you alright, Cate?” His voice sounds hollow and far, too far away to fully register within my mind. I stand there, swallowing hard and biting my lip. “What is it, Cate? Talk to me.”

  I can tell he doesn’t have any idea how to respond to me right now, that he can’t gauge the severity of the situation. I know that on a scale from walking into a glass door to a head on collision with an airplane, an argument between his son and I ranks rather low. My eyes focus, then dance and twirl from one inanimate object to the next, avoiding his gaze.

  “It’s nothing.” I say. “I said something I shouldn’t have.”

  Eliath leans his back against the wall next to me. “Sometimes people fight. Sometimes people are stressed out and they fight and that’s it. There’s nothing else to it. It is what it is, people say what they need to say and it’s over.”

  His words work their way into me and I feel warm. As I smile I realize that he is using his abilities to calm me, but this time, I don’t care, I welcome the shedding of guilt. All I can do now is hope that Eliath is right, and that everything I said, whether I meant it or not, will blow over.

  Chapter 19

  “I want to explain the charges to you today.” Eliath sits across from me at a large oak table. He places the box that I’ve kept close for months down in front of me and lays his hands flat on either side. He points to the silver and green ring on his right hand and then slides it off and offers it to me.

  “This is mine,” he says. “A piece of precious metal that was blessed to me by our Creator. Charges act as amplifiers to our abilities. Without it, as an Opticai I’m able to feel other Tylins around me, whether they’re safe, whether they’re not. With the charge, that picture in my head of who they are and how they feel becomes clearer, so clear that in most situations, I’m able to pinpoint their location. It’s become quite handy in regard to you. The same with Shoshanna’s necklace.” He places her charge on the table next to his. “Without it, Asher may not be on his way to recovery. Abel is a bit different because he isn’t like Shoshanna or me. He’s not just a guardian of humanity, he is the guardian of the Altruist. He is your guardian and you are his charge.”

  He is mine and I am his.

  “He is able to take on your abilities but only when he is near you, so that he can protect you. Now, your charge is sealed within this box and it has been for some time.” He takes my hands in his and places them flat against the top of the box. Then he picks up Shoshanna’s necklace and places the triangular charm into the inset of the matching symbol that locks the box. “These charges are to be kept sacred. They are divine tools meant to aid us in our fight against the Nasai. This one is stronger than the rest because you’re able to handle more than the rest, but…” A low hum begins to emit from the box as its inner cogs begin to turn. “My presence, as well as Shoshanna’s charge, is required for it to be released—a failsafe in case you are captured along with it.”

  The box warms beneath my fingers and I feel bursts of energy buzz within me, it burns and twists through my veins. Eliath lets go of my hands and I lift the lid, exposing the secret within. There, set neatly within a thin round indentation lays a metal bracelet, half an inch in width and a eighth of an inch thick. The shiny metal is adorned with thin interlocking lines and the triangular symbol marks its presence as the clasp. Eliath releases it from its chamber and presses his thumbs against the symbol. “This symbol is the Ark, a reminder of the covenant our Creator made with us, to bless us with these amazing abilities and strength so that we will in turn always protect those he cherishes.”

  He takes my wrist in his hand and my heart beats rapidly as the charge encircles my skin and clicks into place. For the first time in my life, I am whole.

  “Don’t be discouraged if you need to take it slow at first,” Eliath says, as pure power pours into my soul. “It can be overwhelming and may take some getting used to. Feel free to take it off when you need to. Don’t push yourself so hard that you burn out.”

  I take turns extending my fingers to their outer reach and then recoiling them into a fist, allowing the charge to take control.

  A knock taps against the door behind Eliath, undoubtedly Shoshanna fetching me. I stare at the door, intently focused on the knob’s mechanism and slowly reach my arm out towards it, palm up. My heart slows and all I can hear is its calm and constant beat. I pull my fingers upward away from my palm and the door begins to unlatch and creak to attention, stopping as my fingertips reach a halt facing the ceiling above. Shoshanna stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, staring at my gesture and though she doesn’t say a word, her smile indicates that her disappointment in my progress is gone.

  The rest of the afternoon is filled with Shoshanna pushing me to my limits, both mind and body as she throws object after object in my direction testing my reflexes. After I successfully smash a vase against a concrete wall using only my mind, I lower my hand. “Where is Dante?” I ask sternly.

  Shoshanna stops her throwing motion and brings the glass she’s holding down to her side. She briefly looks at the ground before shifting her gaze to me. Her face drops slightly before resetting and pausing again, I may actually get a genuine answer here. “I’m not sure,” she says. I believe her, I do, and not because I want to, but because I know she can tell I’m nearing my breaking point and need answers.

  “But he’s out there, right? Just going on like business as usual?”

  Shoshanna looks at the heap of broken glass at the foot of the wall. “Yeah, he’s out there. What he’s doing, I have no way of knowing.”

  I clench my jaw at the thought of him having no repercussion. “Nothing’s going to happen to him? For what he did to Asher?” I ask.

  “It’s complicated, Catherine,” she replies, solemnly. “If we made future decisions based on revenge, we’d be just like the Brotherhood.”

  I stare at the glass in her hand and will it to the ground so that it shatters at her feet. “That’s not good enough.” I spit the words out with resentment, and I’m glad to feel them leave my body—they’re filled with bitter hate.

  She stares at me blankly, puzzled by my lack of emotional control. Her phone chimes and she pulls it from her pocket and glances at the screen. “Judah is heading into the city centre for a supply run and I thought you could use a change of scenery. He’s outside waiting for you if you’re up for it,” she says.

  I release my clutched jaw, knowing my anger towards her is misdirected and nod, “Yeah, sure.” Judah wouldn’t be my first choice for an outing but I’m desperate to get off of the campus. I start to walk towards the door but Shoshanna’s hand on my shoulder halts my movement. “It’ll get easier, all of this.” Her words, though normally comforting, fall short and I sigh, leaving the room.

  Chapter 20

  Judah leans up against an old beat up green truck staring at his tablet, and from the back of the glass screen, I can see him arranging what seems to be a list. He looks up when he hears me walking down the front steps. “Ready?” he asks. He seems like the type of guy whose guard is nearly impossible to break through, the type that needs to be in control at all times, the type that creates anal-retentive lists every time he leaves The Manor. I’m not sure that I possess the patience required to deal with him today.

  “Yep.” I smile and pause at the truck door, holding out my arm and waiting for the scan
ner to permit my entrance into the vehicle.

  “The scanner is purely for aesthetics, it doesn’t work. You just press in the silver button underneath the knob and pull.” A slight laugh escapes him and I glare, not knowing whether or not I should take his instructions as condescending.