Fate Foretold (Gifted Anomalies Book 1)

by Jaliza A. Burwell

  Just a bit more.

  I bite my lip and take everything I have in me, every lost drop, and then I shoot it out of me. A wind whirls around the space and a man swears on the other side of the door. It has to be the transporter. Somehow, someway, doing this is preventing him from moving.

  I’ll take it.

  Run.

  I stumble to my feet, using the wall to hold my balance. Still gripping my side, hoping that it will somehow slow the bleeding, I stagger forward. The air around me continues to whirl and after that first initial step, it becomes easier to keep moving forward.

  One step at a time. Just keep moving.

  Go right.

  I turn down another tunnel and nearly trip.

  Ladder on the left. Climb.

  I see the old rusted thing and don’t hesitate. My muscles scream as I push myself up. A small metal grate is above me and when I push, it moves, but just barely. Gritting my teeth and grunting, I push harder. Slowly, the grate lifts up and I’m able to pull myself out of the hellhole. Once I’m on top, I roll over, my chest heaving as I try to breath.

  Close it. Weld it shut.

  Forcing my body to move, I do as my Seer ability tells me and close it. With another wave of energy, the sides melt together. They’re not going to be exiting this way anytime soon.

  Move. Keep moving. Running out of time.

  “No,” I moan. The room is spinning, and I can hardly take in my surroundings. I just know there are pipes and metal grates fashioned into walking paths. Something is hissing and the room is really hot.

  Need to move now.

  I push to my feet and nearly go back down. Bile rises up, and I force it back down. I stumble through the room, no doubt leaving a bloody path. My side still burns. I didn’t realize being shot would feel like I was burning.

  Living becomes a chore as I take it one step at a time, trying to find my way out of here, and learning about how far my body can go.

  Desperation. That’s my fuel through this torment. Somehow, I manage to make it out, realizing I was in an older warehouse.

  Go down the street one block.

  I stay off the road by the ditch, hidden in shadows. How long was I underground? Darkness is all around, the moon a haze through the clouds. A mist of rain meets my heated skin and I gasp, wanting to soak it all up to alleviate my fever.

  Third house on the right. Family on vacation. Go to the back.

  I circle around, noting the swirling around me is dimming. Something tells me that the moment the air stops, if I continued to use my gift, then Noah and his transporter will be here in seconds.

  Basement window.

  The small window begs for my attention, and after fiddling with it, I manage to get inside. The house is dark and quiet, no one home. I crawl up the stairs, not able to hold onto my consciousness for much longer.

  Safe.

  Somehow, with my fading conscious, I manage to fill the tub halfway with hot water, and then strip out of my bloody clothes before crawling inside and sighing.

  After that, everything goes dark.

  14

  ~Jackson~

  We fucking lost her. DJ and I were moving in on her while the others kept an eye on Noah. Next thing I know, she’s fucking gone, no trace of her to follow. Colton calls us not a minute later to tell us Noah bailed with his transporter.

  They got a lead on her and didn’t hold back to find her.

  And we have no fucking clue where.

  My stomach clenches in panic.

  “I’m searching for Noah and Adalyn now through the program,” Eli says when we all gather back together. “I’ll know the moment a camera spots them.”

  “This is so fucked up,” I say and rub at my neck, deciding it is best to scowl at the ground rather than anyone passing by. I wasn’t lying when I told Jackson about the last time I felt like this. I couldn’t even describe the feeling accurately enough. The energy around me turned into pinpricks against my skin and the closer we got to the source, the more intense the feeling. My body becomes extra charged, and I start itching for a fight or anything to release the building pressure.

  The first time this happened I was only two years old, and I’m only aware it happened because I saw the video. I had fried all the electronics in the room with my gift and I cried like a newborn baby. They had to sedate me.

  The second time, I remember well. I was eight. We were in the classroom when the intense feeling began. I scratched up my arms, screaming to end it. Then all the lights blew in the room. Another classmate tried to subdue me and I beat him halfway into his grave. There were only a handful of people in the compound who I feared, and none of them were my classmates. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in isolation, and they left me there for a fucking week without interaction with anyone. Just long enough to be driven crazy.

  “Jackson, where are you?” Colton asks, breaking me from those memories.

  I meet his eyes and shake my head. “Nowhere. What are we going to do?”

  “If Noah is no longer in the park, it’s safe to assume neither is she. And the other guys have already left too. I’m tracing their vehicles. They’re headed to the outskirts of the city.” Eli stares down at his phone as he talks.

  “Jackson, DJ, the two of you head toward them, see where they are going. It’s safe to assume that they’ll be circling around Noah and Noah may be around Adalyn. You two stay with them. They’re the ticket out if they’re able to capture Adalyn. We’ll scour the area and try to intercept them.

  We break after that and speed toward the destination Eli keeps sending us, updating us in their change of movement. I drive at dangerous speeds, keeping up a constant mantra that the cops stay away. If I get pulled over, I’m not sure what I would do. Definitely fight back. Hell, I probably won’t pull over. They can chase me all over this fucking city if they want.

  “Speak to me,” DJ says after I take a turn a little too hard. His voice is blank and from the corner of my eyes I can see the wary concern he keeps tossing my way.

  “They are too close to her,” I grit out.

  “We are too.”

  I smash the wheel. “No we fucking aren’t! They’re one step ahead of us. The only reason they haven’t caught her yet, if they haven’t, is that she’s two steps ahead of them. That means we are three fucking steps behind. We need to get ahead of her.”

  “We will. We will find her.”

  I send a glare his way, understanding I’m being an asshole, but I can’t help it. She’s in danger and we can’t do shit about it. She won’t let us. “In time? Will we find her in time?”

  He doesn’t answer, and I snort in disgust at myself.

  “Should we show our hand?” DJ asks thoughtfully.

  “What do you mean?”

  “They don’t know we’re tracking them or her. They still think they’re the only players in the game. Is it time to let them know otherwise? Attack them?”

  I mull that over. It definitely helps take the edge off my emotions.

  “We need to think about Adalyn. When they realize others are searching for her, they’ll double their efforts to get her. She’s already running herself into the ground. We don’t want to motivate them to try harder than they already are. We don’t want them feeling desperate.”

  “It could make them mess up,” DJ points out.

  “Or it could mean they do get their hands on her. They do not get to touch her.”

  Neither of us say anything, and I slow down when we are only a couple blocks away. Alert now, we scan the streets. We’re in the east area of Little Rock, where it’s more industrial, but in development. Distribution facilities and warehouses line the streets worn down by massive trucks. Not even a block away is the Arkansas River. I roll down the window and pick up the scent of the water. How did she get here from the park and what was she doing here exactly?

  “If she started heading south, she could have hitchhiked her way out of here using I-440,” DJ muses.


  “And get picked up by a fucking creep. Sure, she’ll accept their help, but not ours.” It’s ridiculous that she won’t let us help her.

  “Well, their help is in passing. We are offering permanent help. And she knows our help will lead to a lot of death.”

  “Not guaranteed. Our deaths are not guaranteed,” I ground out. “There’s a chance we’ll live, and I know us. We beat odds. We will win.”

  DJ doesn’t answer as we turn a corner and spot the SUVs sitting there, idling by a huge warehouse. We drive by and turn the corner out of sight so we don’t draw attention to ourselves. I circle the block and park down the street with them still in view.

  “Do you think she’s here?” I ask.

  “I hope not.”

  I tap the steering wheel, growing anxious. My body is humming with energy and the thought of approaching them and beating the shit out of all of them slowly begins to start sounding like a pretty damn good idea.

  The space around us grows intense when two figures appear by the SUVs.

  “That’s Noah and the other man has to be the transporter he’s using,” DJ whispers. We both lean forward as if those extra inches will make a difference in how well we can see what is going on.

  The Noah bastard looks furious, his hands flying around as he talks. The transporter shuffles nervously.

  “Wish Eli was here,” I mumble. Then we’d know what the hell they’re talking about.

  After a couple more minutes, Noah crawls into the SUV and slams the door shut. We can even hear it from where we’re stalking.

  “Colton says to follow them. He and Eli are going to circle this area, see if they can find what happened.”

  I start the car and carefully follow behind. They drive slowly through the city before pulling up to a hotel.

  “This feels a little too fancy to be where they are staying. And if they were close on her trail, they wouldn’t give up just to go back to the hotel.”

  “Unless they’re meeting with someone.” DJ points out the window as a man in a sharp suit fitted perfectly to his trim body steps out of the hotel. He shakes hands with Noah and then leads the way back into the hotel.

  “Shit,” I say. “The only person they’ll listen to would be Holsen, right? No one else.”

  “Has to be.”

  Shit. This isn’t good if Holsen is in the city too.

  “Colton says to wait an hour and if they don’t back out, then head back to the hotel. We’re going to try to catch her in the dream realm. Looks like it’s time we push her to tell us where she’s hiding,” DJ says.

  I settle back, never taking my eyes off the hotel. The SUVs eventually pull away and turn toward the garage attached to the building. Good. Looks like they plan to stay here for the night at least.

  After an hour, we pull away and drive back to our own hotel. Time for Plan fucking B. And I’m getting answers. I don’t care how determined she is to keep her lips sealed. I’ll pry them open if I have to.

  15

  This trip into the dream realm is the most painful. My body burns, and I’m pretty sure I’m still in the tub. Yet, when I open my eyes, I’m staring up at a bright blue sky, with tall grass surrounding me.

  And that is all I do as the warm grass brushes against all of me. The pain is atrocious still and my naked body is completely wet. I’m not sure if this is a mistake because I fell asleep or if they called me here. Either way, I want out.

  I can’t even get up, deciding to curl into myself instead. When a wave of pain surges through me at the movement, I bite my lip, whimpering.

  “I can hear her.”

  My whole body goes stiff, my ragged breath pausing for a moment until I force my lungs to keep functioning. I’m so tired. Am I supposed to be this tired in the dream realm?

  “Shit. I smell her too. There’s blood.”

  “Dammit, DJ, why the hell did you choose this realm?”

  “I can’t control where she lands. I just figured it’d be near the cabin, where we were waiting. Not out here.”

  I can hear them now, moving closer, the grass rustling as they part the blades.

  “Found her!”

  “Fuck!”

  They’re moving around me, and I feel hands against my skin. I whimper at the touch.

  “Adalyn, it’s us. What’s wrong?” Eli.

  “H-hurts,” I stutter out. Hurts so damn much.

  “Can I see?”

  I shake my head. I don’t want to move. If I move, it’ll hurt more.

  “There’s a lot of blood here. And her heart rate is sporadic.”

  I don’t care. I shake my head again.

  “Damn, damn, damn,” mutters DJ, though it sounds like he’s muttering to himself.

  “I don’t give a fuck, I’m moving her. I need to see how bad.” Jackson.

  I whimper at the idea. Hands move down to my shoulders, another to my waist. They turn me slowly, and I bite down hard enough to taste the blood.

  “Those bastards shot her!” Jackson growls out, his voice growing frantic as he talks and probes at the wound. “No exit wound. We need to dig the bullet out, clean it, and make sure there isn’t any other internal damage. She’ll need stitches. I need clean bandages. Lots of it.”

  I try to curl into myself again, but they won’t let me. I blink open my eyes, able to see them all hovering over me. Jackson’s deep eyes meet mine.

  “We can’t help her here,” DJ tries to gently remind him.

  “We need to! She’s going to bleed out,” Jackson snaps.

  “Not in the dream realm. It won’t fix her physical body.” DJ’s voice is filled with worry and I meet his eyes, noticing he’s been crying. He is crying.

  For who? Me? Why?

  Eli hovers behind him with a similar expression, the only difference being there aren’t any tears. But I can see the hopelessness he feels. I feel that every day. I felt it the day my dad died. I want to tell him it’s all right. This isn’t going to end me. This wound will not lead to my death. It isn’t even a possibility.

  “Lyn, where are you?” Jackson asks in such a broken voice. His face is pale and his usual angry face is twisted with pain and worry. “Tell us so we can help you. We can’t help you here, and you’re bleeding a lot.”

  I try to smile. I do. When he winces, I stop.

  “Not it,” I whisper.

  His frown deepens.

  I lick my dry lips. “This isn’t it. This is just a bump in the road. I’ll live, I’ll survive, I’ll continue walking forward along the path of Fate.” I close my eyes. “Let me go. Just let me go.”

  “Dammit, stop being stubborn and let me know where you are. Let us find you.”

  “Let me go,” I say again. “Let me clean the wound. I’m bleeding. Let me go.”

  “Release her,” Colton’s says, his voice icy. “We’ll find her, and we need to search now. So release her.”

  “But she’s—”

  “There’s nothing we can do here,” Eli interjects. “We’re just delaying her care by keeping her here when she should be taking care of her wound. And we need to get moving too. We need to find her.”

  I open my eyes again to see Colton kneeling over me. He has my head in his lap and he’s running his hand through my hair. I didn’t even notice he moved me. I couldn’t feel him, too focused on my internal struggles. This was more than just being shot. It had to be. I pushed myself, I went too far, and now my body is paying the price.

  He runs his hand down my face and with the softest, kindest, and most wonderful tone, he says, “Wake up and tend to yourself. Live. Do what you have to do to do that. We will be with you soon.” He leans forward and kisses my forehead. The intimate contact sends warmth through my body.

  “Soon, Lyn, soon,” DJ says and releases me as gently as possible from the dream realm.

  When I wake up, I’m still in the tub. I blink at the white tile on the ceiling before my brain begins moving again.

  I need to get up and get this wound clo
sed. Too much blood. I lost too much. Idiot me. I shouldn’t have gotten into the tub. I should have worked on the wound right away. My sluggish brain wakes up slowly and with everything fuzzy, I crawl out of the tub.

  After finding the emergency kit under the bathroom sink, I sigh in relief. Then I look down at the wound and wince. The bullet was in my side and Jackson is right, no exit wound. It’s an angry red hole, blood still seeping out of it. After prodding the sensitive skin and doing my best not to scream, I can feel the bullet.

  I close my eyes and think of the steps Jackson said. First I need to dig out the bullet. There’s a cream in the kit meant to help numb the area. I apply that before taking acetaminophen to help relieve more of the pain. After digging around, I decide on a cloth, shoving it into my mouth.

  Then, with a tight grip, use tweezers to dig the bullet out. I scream into the cloth as the tweezers dig into my side. Tears fall down my face, and I force my shaking hand to push through. My sight grows dark, and I know I’m on the cusp of passing out. I don’t have a gift to help with this, and I don’t know anything about fixing wounds. I just know this damn bullet needs to come out.

  Finally, my tweezers have a good grip, and before I can think, I pull hard. With a sickening pop, the bullet comes out and I drop it and the tweezers into the sink before falling to the floor onto my butt. More blood seeps out, and I use cloths to apply pressure.

  There was a doctor show I was obsessed with a few years ago and on the show, there was a lot of talk about applying pressure to bleeding wounds. I won’t be able to clean it up if it’s bleeding. It needs to clot. Knowing my body is weak and exhausted, I shove more cloth onto the wound and then lean onto my side to force my hand to press against the wound. It helps and I just lay there.

  Dad. It’d be nice to have you here with me now.

  I’ve never felt as lonely as I do now, needing to take care of my wounds on my own. Never in my lifetime did I ever think I’d need to treat a gunshot wound, especially on myself. It’s scary. This whole thing is terrifying, and I’m alone, needing to deal with it by myself.