by Elodie Colt
She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and swung her upper body backward. I’d seen the move done by professional gymnasts. It was the more gracious version of a backflip. She made a perfect arc, grabbing the narrow bar with her hands, only to pull her right leg in the same direction as soon as she had a firm grip. With an excellent straddle that was close to one hundred eighty degrees, she landed first with her swinging leg and then with the one she pulled up behind. She wobbled slightly and flailed her arms to keep her balance.
If the sour look on her face was anything to go by, this was not what she’d wanted to achieve. So she did it again. And again. Every time moving gracefully but never landing the way she intended.
She breathed hard, resting her hands frustratingly on her hips, head bent low. After a few seconds, she glanced up at the wall that had nearly been her death sentence a few days ago. She wanted to jump it, but she was afraid of what was about to happen.
Shaking her head, she went over to the ropes and started to climb.
My body and mind were too exhausted to keep me awake any longer, allowing me to drift off almost immediately after my late night exercises. Not even nightmares accompanied me, or any other dreams, for that matter. I was deeply entangled in my non-REM state, which resulted in me waking up as refreshed as if I’d swallowed a sleeping pill for breakfast.
As my schedule allowed me some free time until late morning, I decided to do some meditation. The last days had bombarded me emotionally in every way imaginable. I couldn’t think clearly anymore and hadn’t yet had the time to come to terms with anything going on. It was testing my sanity, and it became worse ever since experiencing it again a few days ago.
Actually, I’d hoped this crazy kind of out-of-body experience was a one-time occurrence, but I was wrong, considering it happened again after charging that stupid wall in my first training lesson with Dylan. Neither my body nor my mind had been strong enough to get the upper hand, and I’d go crazy if I didn’t get to the bottom of things soon.
Lucky for me, only my shoulder had been battered. I could have hit the floor head first, or worse, hurt a student. There was something lurking inside me. I’d refused to admit it, but I’d already known before Jimmy had filled me in on the crazy world of Roes—the New Race of Evolution, as he’d explained it to me—and their powers. I’d known since Shawna’s death but kept my awareness of it hidden far away.
Whatever was slumbering inside me, was it good or evil? Could it even be classified as one of those? Jimmy had explained that, as a Natural—the rarest Roe in existence—I was connected to nature, and therefore inherited a natural power. When asking Jimmy how I would find out about my ability, he’d said I’d feel an internal connection.
Did I have an elemental power like the woman Jimmy had told me about, the one who had been able to control fire? Doubtful. I’d burned myself countless times in my life. As a fire elemental, the flames should welcome me, right? Also, water didn’t seem to be the connection I was looking for because I couldn’t say I’d ever felt a deeper awareness. And air? How should I know?
Frustrated, I let my head slump into my hands. Maybe I needed to expand my thinking range. Jimmy had told me Natural abilities weren’t just limited to the four elements. It could be an ability none of us would think of because it was something none of us were aware of, something that was neither touchable nor visible.
Yanking away the blankets, I got through my bathroom routine and dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a warm jacket. I was in an exceptionally bad mood this morning, so I hoped no students were going to pass me in the hallways. The picture of me becoming an untamable beast tormented me ever since. It had been like staring at a second evil personality. They’d told me the Bluster was a phenomenon which occurred from time to time, but it shocked me to the core that a simple state of emotion could turn someone like me into such a monster.
Dr. Simmons hadn’t told me I’d hurt at least two nurses and ruined the medical equipment of an entire hospital room. Hell, I’d nearly pulverized everything in my range, but he still hadn’t shed one word about it. Maybe he’d thought I had enough on my mind with the death of my sister. Maybe he’d feared I’d fall into that uncontrollable state of mind a second time if he upset me with the story of what I’d done.
I needed to get my emotions under control. There was only so much I could take, and I was sure whatever would happen in the next days, weeks, or months was going to test me even more. No matter what, I needed to prevent another Bluster from occurring.
Thankfully, the hallways were still empty, and I could make my way through the tunnels unnoticed. I didn’t know if I was allowed to leave whenever I wanted, but I didn’t bother asking for permission. It was bad enough to be surrounded by tons of concrete twenty-four hours a day without a glimpse of the outside world.
Ascending the ladder at the end of the tunnel, I opened the trapdoor. Fresh morning air greeted me, and I eagerly inhaled the damp woodsy fragrances. It was drizzling rain, and the grass and leaves on the ground glistened with water drops. A chilly fog clouded the ground, giving the cemetery a spooky but also a quiet and peaceful atmosphere.
Strolling up the hill, I passed Ricky’s grave, as usual with a heavy heart, and entered the forest behind. It consisted of large spruces, forming an impenetrable canopy on top and keeping the forest ground dry. The scent of pine needles and wet earth refreshed my senses. It was the perfect spot for gaining inner peace.
I walked over to a fallen tree and sat down in a lotus position. Taking a few calming breaths, I closed my eyes, put my hands on my knees, and tried to free my mind.
At first, my efforts were futile. Too many troubles disturbed my ability to focus. I deliberately tried to block out all images of the picture in the files. Dylan had taken it after the shock stunned me into immobility.
Dylan…
Seriously, I couldn’t figure him out. From the first day we met, I knew he didn’t wish me dead but didn’t want me in his presence, either. Why had he volunteered to break into the archive with me? Surely, Chris would have been capable of guarding me just as well. Had he wanted to keep a close eye on me in case I messed up? Had he wanted to protect me? No, it wouldn’t make sense. He’d dared me to come near him, yet volunteered to join me.
As expected, he’d handled the situation professionally from the beginning. I, on the other hand, had been a bundle of nerves, clueless as to how to respond to him and how much distance to keep. Well, speaking of distance—there wasn’t much space left in the closet we’d shared for what felt like the longest time ever.
For a few minutes, I’d feared for my life in there. Dylan’s grip had been unrelenting, and when his hands touched me, I was sure he’d choke me for good this time. Instead, he’d calmed me down, embraced me like a predator clawing at his prey, leaving no opportunity for escape. It had been one of the most intimidating experiences of my life.
In the end, I hadn’t felt fear but… safety.
His massive frame had towered behind me, forming an indestructible shield around my fragile body. His arms had caged me in, leaving no room for movement. I’d shivered uncontrollably when his fingers traced my skin, but he’d thankfully mistaken it for an aftereffect of my shocked state. At first, I’d thought he did it deliberately to scare me, but when his hot breath caressed my shoulder, I realized we were having an intimate moment.
His face had been so close to my neck, his lips practically touching my skin, resulting in me bending my head involuntary backward. I’d felt like a helpless human caught by a vampire craving my blood, unable to escape fate, yet surrendering to the inevitable bite.
Maybe it hadn’t been a moment at all. No idea what he’d done with the nurse before, but chances were high it included some body fluid transfer. And as Chris had told me, Dylan’s thing with Cassie was over, so I supposed he had to look for casual acquaintances outside somewhere.
Granted, sexual pleasure hadn’t been on my top list of priorities the last few yea
rs. Pretty sad. Despite my growing desperation for one night of distraction, occasional flings held no appeal for me.
Dylan would be different, of course, but no, I would dismiss this train of thought immediately. Stupid. He was off limits, and I would not be his second choice after a nurse who infected him with the worst perfume I’d ever smelled, only to dissolve into nothing more than a bedpost notch later.
But why was I thinking about sex now? I had bigger issues to deal with. Ugh, my mind was seriously fucked up.
Taking a few calming breaths, I refocused on the task at hand—centering my thoughts and concentrating on breathing. In and out. Again. And again.
After a few minutes, I managed to gain a reasonable mental stability. My respiration and heart rate slowed down. In… and out.
Dylan… No, let that thought pass. Let it glide away.
Meditation is a state of consciousness. I didn’t have any training but learned it by self-instruction. It’s not about preventing thoughts from entering your mind, it’s the skill to allow those thoughts to pass, to direct your mind back to the main task, and observe your thoughts from the outside without judging them. It’s simply a different way to respond to automatic emotions while strengthening your ‘spiritual muscles.’
Meditating had helped me greatly in the first months after Shawna’s death. Whenever hyperventilation or panic attacks had threatened to surface, meditation released my inner tensions. I used to meditate for at least an hour every day, and it had lessened my balancing problems, or whatever problems they were now…
Half an hour later, I eventually found the balance, making me relax. The fresh autumn air revived my senses, and I slowly tried to switch my point of focus.
The two times when my ability had kicked in, I’d felt a strange feeling in my gut. It was a mist of otherness, winding tingles from my center, flowing down to my extremities. The feeling was similar to butterflies buzzing in your stomach, only more there.
I needed to find a way to grasp or touch it. The more I became mentally aware, the more I sensed the misty, swirly thing in my belly, but it was hard to visualize.
Maybe ‘mist’ wasn’t the right word, more like a shiny aura moving in itself like a slow vortex, but still calm. However, getting a grip on the substance was impossible. Whenever I tried to steer my awareness in its direction, it recoiled as if afraid of getting caught. It was like trying to catch a piece of egg shell with your fingers after it fell into the egg white.
“That looks uncomfortable.”
I startled and flailed my arms. It was impossible to keep upright with my legs tugged into one another, resulting in me making a face-plant forward.
“And that doesn’t look comfortable, either,” came a laughing voice from the figure approaching me. “Jimmy told me you were agile. Don’t know where he got that. What are you doing?” Sarah asked, still giggling.
“Meditating. At least, I was,” I grumbled into the leaves covering my mouth and untangled my limbs. Spitting out some hair strands, I stood up. Sarah eyed me dubiously and helped me wipe the remaining dirt from my clothes.
“Hmm, sounds boring,” she declared.
“Entertainment isn’t exactly the point of meditation, you know,” I informed her.
“Sorry for interrupting your spiritual journey.”
“No worries. I wanted to get ready for class, anyway. What are you doing out here?”
“I brought flowers for Ricky’s grave,” Sarah answered in a soft voice, erasing my smile in a heartbeat. Glancing at Ricky’s resting place, I noticed fresh yellow flowers decorating the headstone. “I rarely come here. The cemetery gives me the creeps, you know, but I figured the grave might need some tending.”
“Of… of course,” I muttered. I made a mental note to bring flowers next time, too.
“So, did it help?” Sarah turned from depressed to enthusiastic within the blink of an eye.
“What do you mean?” I asked with irritation, unable to keep up with her sudden mood change.
“The meditation. Did it help with whatever it should be helpful for?”
“Uh, I think so.”
“That’s good.” Sarah smiled at me and took a seat on the fallen tree. I sat down beside her. “Trying to find out about your ability?”
“Yeah.” I sighed.
“And?”
“I don’t know. I think I feel something, but I can’t grasp it.”
Sarah nodded. “Yeah, that’s the most difficult part in the beginning. You know there’s something there, but you can’t get a hold of it.”
“How was it for you?” I wanted to know.
“Similar. Both my parents are Catchers… annoying when you’re a teenager, believe me.” She paused with a sour look on her face. “Anyway, they assumed I would become a Catcher, too, but abilities are not inheritable, and they were shocked when they realized I was a Regenerator. I learned about my ability when I burned my hand on the oven. I felt a sudden pulsating here,” she explained, putting her hand over her heart. “It was so intense, I couldn’t breathe. My mother needed to calm me down after I had a meltdown. Then, the injury healed within a few hours.”
“Wow. Seems to be handy,” I marveled. It would be a nice ability to have, especially since I was known for my talent to hurt myself. At least it would be a harmless power and not some dangerous weapon.
Sarah laughed. “Only if you have enough energy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, technically, it’s not ‘healing’ in the magical sense. A Regenerator can only accelerate the regeneration process of cells. It requires a high amount of energy, depending on the injury, of course. I healed Jimmy once after he’d been shot twice. Chris removed the bullets, and I healed him, but I fell asleep in an instant and was out for the rest of the day. It’s ironic, really. You can support the natural regeneration, but you also need to learn how to regenerate yourself. Healing is easy, but you have to ration it properly, especially when you’re needed in battle, and others depend on you. The more you train, the quicker you can regenerate your energy, but it takes years of practice.”
“So, it’s similar to Cassie’s ability, right? Chris told me she didn’t have enough energy to…” I stopped short. Did Sarah know about the incident when Cassie made one of her breasts bigger but had no energy left to do the same with the other? Sarah suddenly laughed, so I guessed she was on the inside.
“Oh, yeah, he told you the story. Well, I don’t know. Shifting uses a different sort of energy, I guess. It doesn’t drain you physically, as in tiring you out. Shifting is like having a separate energy reservoir you can use, and if it’s empty, you can’t shift anymore. Regenerating is about deflecting your own energy to cells.”
I let this new information sink in. “How do you practice?”
“At first, it’s easier to train on yourself because you know your body the best. I used to cut myself so I could use my ability. In the beginning, I needed hours to heal but after a few months, it only lasted a few minutes. Then I tried to heal my father after a dog had bitten him. It worked, but it was a completely different experience than healing myself. Practicing is difficult. It’s more about theoretical learning, as there are so many biological and chemical reactions to take into account.”
“What exactly is it you can heal? There must be boundaries, right?”
I secretly thought back to Sarah trying to heal Ricky after he’d saved me. He’d still been alive but already beyond repair. Ricky’s lifeless face crept back into my mind, making my heart sink.
“The easiest are superficial wounds where only the top layers of skin are damaged. It gets trickier when melding broken bones because the anatomy is quite complex. It’s also difficult with more than one injury. I can’t heal multiple injuries all at once, only each one individually because every injury needs a different treatment. So, in case of life-threatening injuries, you need to know which ones to heal first. Sometimes, more injuries cohere, and then it gets tricky. There are Regenerat
ors who can treat multiple injuries at the same time, but I guess I still need a few years to get there.”
“Wow. Sounds like you need to be a medic.”
“Don’t tell me… I study medical science night and day,” Sarah grumbled.
“What about illnesses?”
Sarah shook her head. “No illnesses,” she negated. “I can only manipulate the body’s natural healing ability. I can’t deactivate a virus or build up an immune system. I also can’t restore what’s already destroyed. We still depend on medicine here.”
I nodded absently, another thought already occupying my mind. “When you healed me the night of the attack, did it wear you out? I mean, I had a wounded knee and a concussion, as far as I know…”
A scared expression crossed Sarah’s face, and it instantly made me tense. Did I say something wrong? Sarah just shook her head, but I was unsure if the gesture was the answer to my question or an attempt to sidestep it.
“What is it?” I demanded when I noticed how uncomfortable she was, but she remained silent. “Sarah, you can tell me.” I put a hand on her shoulder, and Sarah lifted her head, giving me a knowing look. For a long moment, I couldn’t decipher her gaze, but then I connected the dots.
“Ricky…” I uttered in horror, and Sarah closed her eyes as if trying to reign in her emotions. “It wore you out so much, you couldn’t heal Ricky anymore,” I concluded in a deadpan voice, and Sarah nodded tentatively.
Oh my God, I couldn’t believe it! If Sarah hadn’t healed me, she could have saved Ricky. We would have both survived.
“I… I knew I didn’t have much energy left. Your wounds didn’t drain me much, but I didn’t count on lethal injuries to heal later. If I’d known, I would have saved my energy,” Sarah explained quietly.