Fate Foretold (Gifted Anomalies Book 1)

by Jaliza A. Burwell

  “Do not come closer,” I warn, voice hard.

  “Stop behaving like an idiot.” Noah’s words are a burning anger, boiling just underneath the surface. The skin around his face tightens as he barely holds himself from charging at me.

  I narrow my eyes. “Well, this idiot is getting away from you.”

  Before I chicken out, I turn and jump up on the ledge against my instincts. Everything inside me screams not to do it, begs me to not risk it.

  “Don’t do this, Adalyn!” Noah’s anger sends his energy out, lashing out at my skin, demanding I listen to him.

  “I won’t let Holsen get his hands on me,” I say in a dead voice and then jump off.

  I fall.

  And fall.

  And then hit the water. The icy coldness envelopes me, and I become surrounded by darkness, no way to know which way is up or down. My lungs freeze, my heart thuds painfully hard, and the cold water nips at my skin, determined to keep me under. I don’t care.

  Dying is definitely better.

  4

  My entire body hurts as the gentle waves push me towards the bank of the river. I have to drag my tired body out and nearly sob when my fingers sink into mud. I dig into the ground and use the little bit of strength I have left to pull myself out of the slow current.

  After falling down, and with my chest heaving, I allow myself to just feel. Feel all the pain and fear, feel the frustration and the hopelessness. When I suck in a breath, my teeth chatter as I shiver. Tears fall and a sob escapes. Covering my face with my arms, my skin prickles as the warm air cozies up to my frozen skin.

  Everything has been slowly breaking me down, one moment at a time. Every decision I have to make, every time I have to run, every time I have to look over my shoulder is just one more thing to break down my soul.

  Today is just proof of my limitations. Somehow Noah is making it around my gift, somehow I can’t See him coming. I See everything but him, and yet he’s there.

  How much longer will I last? Eventually, I’ll make a mistake and they’ll get me, and I won’t have a bridge to jump off to get away.

  I don’t want to die.

  But I don’t want to be a slave either.

  How does one go about defeating a powerhouse? Holsen is one of the most powerful people in the United States, not including the president. He’s spent years building himself up to the top and I represent a way for him to go even further.

  “I don’t want to die.” I whisper the plea through the tears and out into the surrounding forest. “I don’t want to be taken.”

  Admitting it out loud makes the reality heavier, pressing against me, reminding me that my life is currently in danger.

  I can’t stay. I can’t stay here broken because I have no doubt Noah will catch up to me. He’s easily my new nightmare, the phantom parents tell their kids stories about to make them behave. He’s my boogieman.

  Sitting up is a slow process and once I’m up, I take note of my body. Bumps and bruises. My wrist hurts and there’s a scrape along my leg, but nothing I can’t handle. I don’t have a choice anyway, I need to suck it up.

  Climbing to my feet takes even more time than it did to sit up. My clothes are drenched and heavy, sticking to my skin, and when I pull it away, it makes a sloppy suction noise before slapping my skin when I let go. Wearing them is a bad idea, but it’s warm out, and I refuse to wander around the forest naked.

  My first step is wobbly, but when I don’t fall down, I take another. My head spins, and I have to tell myself that I can do this. Because I can. I’ve been in worse situations before, like the time I got cornered on a rooftop. Being lost in the forest is low on my list of experiences. I’m tempted to use my gift to figure out what to do, but after being caught by Noah and knowing he’s coming for me, it’s probably best that I don’t.

  I need to get someplace safe for the night and rest up, heal, and I need it to be in a spot Noah won’t be able to find me. The sun will still be out for a few more hours so I make use of the time and push on through the forest, making use of the rocks to hide my trail as best as I can. Maybe if I find a place to rest for a couple of hours, I can try traveling at night. I would be crazy to do it, but right now crazy is better than logical.

  A massive rock structure sticks out from a hill, and after circling it, I find a large crevice just big enough for me to fit. My limbs scream in protest when I crawl inside, fallen leaves and branches scratching my hand and creepy crawlers finding a new home in my hair.

  Don’t think about it. Don’t think about. The image of spiders laying eggs in my hair plays out in my head and sends a shudder through me.

  The crevice goes back far enough to hide me completely, and I have just enough space to curl up, wishing I still had my bag. I had to get rid of it since it was weighing me down in the water, but now I have nothing.

  My mind whirls with plans, but I know I can’t think like this. I need to rest, to refresh my mind. Everything looks like shit when exhausted and hurt.

  I force my mind to stop its whirling thoughts by focusing on a story my dad used to tell me when I was young and had this same issue. He would tell me the story of a little girl helping an even littler boy buy a cupcake for his sister’s birthday despite not having enough money. When she first meets the boy, he’s crying and she sings to calm him down.

  I begin softly singing the song Dad would sing for the story.

  Hush little baby don’t say a word.

  Ada’s gonna buy you a mockingbird…

  I continue with the song, calming my thoughts, and slowly I doze off.

  ~*~

  There is no pulling sensation, no feeling like I’m being yanked, and yet still, I find myself in the clearing, taking in the vibrancy surrounding me. The group of men are talking softly in the distance. Sighing, I glare up at the sky.

  Seriously, again? What keeps bringing me here?

  I follow the voices until I step out. They’re all hanging out on a porch to a log cabin, talking, but the moment I come out of the woods, they pause to gawk at me.

  “Again?” DJ asks, standing up from the porch step he was sitting on. He moves closer and his eyes narrow as they take in my appearance. The suspicion in his expression slips into concern. “What happened to you? Are you okay?”

  He tries to move closer, and I step back, keeping space between us. I probably resemble a dead body at this time, still wet and muddy, with scrapes and bruises all over me from the rocks I smashed into.

  “Nothing,” I say.

  “You looked like you were drowned,” Colton says in a calming voice, as if to keep me from bolting away. If I could, I would.

  “If I drowned, I wouldn’t be here,” I point out, trying to be funny. When none of them smile, I know I failed.

  “What happened?” Colton asks.

  I take another step back. “Nothing.”

  Jackson growls out, “Bullshit.”

  “Your head is bleeding,” DJ points out.

  “And your cheek is bruised,” Colton adds.

  Eli jumps to his feet. “Plus your legs are all torn up.”

  “I’m fine,” I snap and turn my focus on DJ. “Did you call me again?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No.” His frown deepens. “We need to figure this out.”

  “Are you sure we never met?” Colton asks.

  “Fuck, will you guys let her sit down,” Eli says in his gravelly voice. “She’s swaying on her feet.”

  “She can’t die here,” DJ says.

  “But she can still feel everything that has happened to her,” Eli snaps.

  “Shit.” DJ runs a hand through his dark hair. “Come on, Lyn. I’m sorry, I’m being a shitty host.”

  He comes over and reaches for me, but I move out of reach, not wanting him to touch me. I go over to the steps and closer to the group of men, wondering why the hell I’m here and what I’m going to do. I’m stuck here until DJ lets me go, and I don’t see him doing that anytime soon.


  “So, want to explain what happened?” Colton asks, settling on the step below mine.

  Jackson stays standing, hovering over us, looking intimidating but silently waiting for my answer, as if what I say will dictate how he’ll respond. I don’t want to know what he will do if he doesn’t like my answer.

  “Nothing I’m comfortable sharing with you. I’m fine, just a little banged up, nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Are you in danger? Running from someone?” Jackson asks, and I tilt my head back to look up at him.

  “It’s just a weird run-in, I’m not in danger.”

  Eli’s head turns slightly and tilts. “By the little jump in her heart rate, she’s lying. She’s in danger.”

  They all frown and glance at each other as I try to come up with something to say. I don’t want them getting caught up in my problems.

  Colton reaches up and grabs my shoulder. I take in a sharp breath as images assault my vision.

  Jackson shot.

  Colton stabbed.

  DJ unmoving on the ground.

  Eli sprinting towards me, using all his strength.

  Cold metal against my temple.

  “Lyn!”

  I snap out of my head to find Colton leaning over me, his hands squeezing my shoulder.

  “Lyn! Are you okay? What’s happening? Why did your eyes go white?”

  I shake my head, confused. Colton isn’t hurt.

  The others crowd around too, all of them fine. Relief washes over me, and I frown at the sudden rush of intense emotions over the strangers. Concern grows inside as I remember Jackson’s desperate expression as he holds his stomach and Colton’s face twisted with pain as blood seeps from his chest. What did I just see and why did I only see that outcome? That can’t be set in stone.

  “Talk to us.” DJ’s voice breaks the whirlwind of thoughts. He’s anxious as he pushes past Colton and kneels in front of me, grabbing my hand. “Let us help you.” His request is a plea that echoes through my heart. No one has ever pleaded to be pulled into my shit.

  My eyes widen as it all clicks into place.

  I’m going to be the reason they die.

  ~*~

  I wake up and stay completely still, reminding myself where I am and what just happened. Once I realized their deaths were approaching because of me, I shut down. They all grew frustrated, but gave in and DJ let me leave.

  I can’t see them again. They don’t need to be dragged into my mess.

  When I shift, my body is quick to remind me of the beating it took. Closing my eyes and breathing through my nose, I focus my energy on where it hurts. I don’t heal, I don’t have that gift, but the energy acts as a soothing balm, relieving the discomfort enough so I can function.

  Once the pain fades to just background noise, I work my way out of the crevice, ignoring the stiffness in my limbs. Curled up sleeping for hours didn’t do my body any favors. Once I slip out, all my joints make themselves known as they crack with each stretch.

  I wipe my face with my hands and then stop when I remember how filthy I am. Damp clothes, mud all over, no money, no food, nothing. No one is going to bother to stop and pick me up like this. I need fresh clothes at least.

  Needing to figure out what to do, I head over to the river to waste time collecting my thoughts. The sounds of the nearby rushing water calms me.

  Warm air adds comfort, the summer in full swing. Lucky for me, otherwise I’d probably be sick now. I glance around and cast out my senses, picking up nothing around me but the wildlife.

  I strip off my clothes, putting them off to the side. After I wash up, I’ll clean them out as best as I can, given I don’t have any type of soap to help.

  The water is cool against my skin, and I shiver as I go deeper, until the water is up to my waist. I make quick work, scrubbing everything off of me. As I work at removing the dried mud from my body, the faces of those men keep flashing through my head.

  I scream in frustration, wanting to forget them, but their memory has latched onto me. Their faces overlap with their dead ones. A slow ache builds in my chest, and I close my eyes, needing to See more.

  Flashes come through, events, hundreds and hundreds of possibilities, all of them the same and yet different, with variances due to the smallest changes. They just keep coming, bombarding me and I scream out in frustration.

  They’ll want to find me. They’ll want to save me. And they’ll try their damndest.

  Problem is, it isn’t good enough.

  They die. They just keep dying. Nothing happens right. Nothing leads to them living. Why?

  A heavy pressure builds in my chest, and I groan as I curl into myself, the water reaching up my neck now. I See it. I See them living.

  But I See me dying. I gasp, opening my eyes, not wanting to See it, but I know.

  I need to nearly die before they can save me and live. I need to hurt.

  And if they are too early, they die. If they are too late, I die, and soon after, so do they. The possibilities are too skewed toward death. There is one chance to live if they enter my life, one way this can go right, but it’s bogged down by everything that can go wrong. The chances of us making it out of this without death are near impossible.

  Shit. I can’t let them find me, and yet, their determination will push them to find me. Why the hell will they even push to find me? I’m nobody to them.

  Finally, the chest pain fades away and I straighten, wiping away the tears I didn’t realize were falling. I’m crying over boys. I never cry over boys. If Dad were alive, he’d be so proud. His biggest fear in life was that I would always be alone, and he died with that fear. I feel bad that I’ll never make that fear obsolete. I don’t date. I don’t cry over men. I live a solitary life and planned to keep it that way because no one deserves to have to deal with me in their life. I’m a magnet for danger.

  Shaking my head, I glance all around, trying to gather myself together, trying to work something out.

  I turn south, toward the town and my ticket out of this area. All I need to do is take this one step at a time and make sure those guys don’t find me. My thoughts are dragged back to the dream realm, another problem I’ll need to resolve. But how? I don’t even know why I’m being dragged there. DJ says he isn’t doing it, so what is? Or who?

  To release the exhaustion, I shake my head, and go back to the bank, grabbing my clothes. I give them a quick wash and hang them up to dry. A trick this older woman showed me when I was younger was a way to stir up the wind. We all have control over energy, it’s how we’re able to use our gifts. So, all we have to do is stir up the energy around us to create a breeze. I do that now, reaching out to the particles around me and speed up their movement. A breeze picks up, ruffling the clothes, and I focus on keeping a constant flow. It takes a bit and complete focus, but eventually, the clothes dry enough to put them back on and not make me look like I went swimming with my clothes on.

  5

  I need a game plan. I’m not quite sure where I am, but I need to figure this out. South is still my best bet. I’m currently in Nebraska and most people would probably head west or east. I plan to head south, maybe toward New Mexico. The entire country is one huge option for me right now. I don’t know where DJ and the others are located. Since our sleep schedule matches up, I know they’re in this country and not halfway across the world. That would be too easy.

  I can’t stay on the run for too long, I can’t keep this up. I need to face Holsen eventually. The question is how and where? The man moves as much as I do, always off to destroy lives. And letting myself get captured just to see him is a sure way to lose. He’d end up with the power, not me.

  After grabbing my clothes and redressing, I hike down the mountain. I’m sure I’ll come across a town or city eventually, and then I can hitch a ride or borrow a vehicle. For now, I just need to keep moving. I don’t know where Noah is and my gift doesn’t seem to work properly when it comes to that guy.

  The next couple of hours pa
ss by slowly, my shoes still wet from yesterday. Using energy to dry clothes is easy, but shoes take longer and would have exhausted me. So I ignore the squish of each step as I work my way up the mountain. Maybe higher ground will give me a better idea of where I’m going. I do know I’m headed south, the general direction I want to go, but if I don’t get out of these mountains, other dangers are going to present themselves. The elements will kill me before Holsen can. Or maybe I’ll get eaten by a bear.

  I’ll consider myself blessed then.

  My luck hits when a beautiful cabin comes into view. Smoke rises out of the chimney, so I find a hidden spot in the tree line, and spend a couple hours just watching the place. There are two kids—little boys—and a couple. I bite my lip. This is risky, but I need a break. I’m starting to dehydrate because of the July heat, and my stomach is now a constant growl, demanding some kind of sustenance. I haven’t lucked out in finding berries to eat and I’m not so good with determining which plants are edible. My luck, I’d choose a poisonous one.

  Eating bugs is always an option.

  Or not.

  I could probably use my gift to find out, but the thought alone exhausts me. I can’t keep using my ability for trivial things or I won’t last long. The constant usage is already putting a strain on my body.

  I straighten from my hiding spot and fix my hair, running my fingers through the dyed brown waves falling around my shoulders. A couple of leaves fall out. After hoping I don’t look like some kind of mountain monster legend, I approach the cabin, my heart pounding harder and harder with each step.

  The husband comes out before I get within ten feet of the wrap around porch. He leans casually against the banister, arms crossed over broad shoulders, light-colored eyes watching my every move.

  I project calm and friendliness. I’m not here to cause trouble. I just need a little help, a little guidance in the right direction.