The Powerless Series: Complete 5-Book Set

by Jason Letts

  “Are you OK?” Will asked.

  “You stabbed me!” the man sputtered.

  Horrified, Will motioned to toss away the bloody knife. He couldn’t bear to touch it, and yet his hand would not let go. His eyes shot back to his victim, writhing through his last moments of life. As much as he wanted to, he could not take his eyes away.

  “I’m sorry!” Will cried.

  The man had barely the strength to raise his eyes to Will. He looked pathetic and swollen, childlike in his fascinated vulnerability. Then his shaking froze up, and the man moved no more. Will kicked and pushed against the ground to crawl away. Someone else ran nearby, hollering.

  The man’s coarse face burned into Will’s memory even after another explosion drew his attention away. Barely conscious of his own breathing or movement, he scrambled to his feet and ran from that place. The bloody knife still fixed to his hand, his only thought was to get away, to escape.

  Far away from Will, though still caught in the same dust storm that insulated the battlefield, Aoi fought for breath amidst a pileup of fighters from both sides, wrestling in a human mass of both living and dead. Caught under the tremendous weight of countless bodies, she squirmed and squeezed. She felt pressure from punches and kicks at every moment. A staff drilled her in the back repeatedly.

  Trying to stay calm, she searched for a way out, but as soon as she changed the position of one limb another would get stuck. All of the force her body could generate did nothing to shake her loose. But just as she began to feel her effort tax her and the trap crush her, the cyclone swept through and launched everyone into the air. Aoi felt herself twisting and tumbling helplessly in the violent wind. She held her hands over her head to ward off the constant bumps and hits she received.

  After getting whipped through the air, it propelled her out and dropped her to the ground. She sailed directly into another fighter, glancing off him before slamming onto the ground shoulder first. The other fighter collapsed onto the ground from her impact.

  Aoi stared dumbly at the dirt, her mouth hanging open, until her senses returned to her. The first conscious sensation was that the ground felt warm. These scattered rocks and stones, many of them from underneath the hillside, could not have picked up this much heat from the sun. Their temperature grew hotter, and Aoi pulled her exposed fingers away. Blinking, she realized that a red glow took to them, which made them burn through her uniform.

  Wincing from the heat and the sweat forming on her brow, she pulled herself up. The thin shoes Aoi wore provided little protection from the now scorching surface. As she did so, she saw a faint figure in the mist walking on her hands who had to be the cause. Though a long ways off, she moved in Aoi’s direction.

  Aoi had the idea that she could absorb the energy if she calmed herself enough, and so she closed her eyes and started to regulate her breathing. She worked even breaths into and out of her lungs even as the scorching ground ignited her shoes.

  Breaking down with a wail, she ceased her attempt and jumped away, slapping with her sleeves to put out her smoldering shoes. The burns in her feet caused her a pain she had never imagined possible. It made her feel sick, like it reached into the very center of her mind and ripped her apart. For some reason, she found herself looking for Vern in the dark faces racing through the area, but instead the shaded figure of Neeko appeared beside her.

  “I’m going to get you out of here!” he yelled, though his words seemed like a whisper. Neeko tugged on her arm, hopping from one foot to the other, but the scorching ground overcame him.

  “I can’t! I’m sorry!” he shouted, suddenly vanishing and leaving her all alone again.

  Unable to pay much attention to anything else, she limped away, trying to find cooler ground. She looked back to see where the originator of this torture was. The rocks where she’d been had melted into lava. Before she looked away, the cyclones dropped several soldiers a few yards away.

  Aoi lurched on as quickly as she could. Because of her burns, she couldn’t tell whether or not the ground got any cooler. Unable to withstand any more, she reached into her pocket for some of Nora the healer’s hair. Pulling out the small knit bag, she slipped her hand in just as someone careened into her. The collision knocked the bag away and sent it flying onto the ground. Aoi let out the softest sigh as her coal black eyes saw it catch fire and burn into a worthless, charred heap.

  “It can’t last forever,” she whispered to herself over and over as she crawled through the war-torn scalding sand.

  Some distance away, Mira and Vern stumbled onto Rowland in the middle of the chaotic fighting. Having long ago lost his knife, he used a broken staff to hold off an attacker. Recognizing his friends, Rowland hollered for help. He poked and stabbed desperately, gritting his teeth and shuffling back. The black-haired, blue-eyed attacker grabbed hold of Rowland’s staff and ripped it away, just as she noticed she was now out-numbered. Before Vern could try to detain her, she ran off and disappeared into the smoke. Out of breath and fearful, Rowland jogged to meet them.

  “This isn’t fun anymore,” he griped.

  “We’ve got to get out or we’re all going to die here,” Mira huffed. “Let’s get to the meeting place in the north.”

  “OK. Which way’s north?” Vern asked.

  “I…‌I don’t know,” Mira said.

  The smoke swirled in all directions, blocking out any hint of the surrounding landscape. They couldn’t see the scrub forest, and the sun seemed nothing more than a glow in the haze above. They heard incomprehensible yelling, and some people in tan uniforms ran by. Their haggard, dreary appearances made the idea of fighting seem even more futile.

  “Let’s just get out of the smoke,” Mira hollered.

  “Maybe we’ll be able to find some of the others,” Vern added.

  Any direction seemed as good as any other, and so they just ran straight. They all looked battered, but they pressed on even as charges and screams raged all around. The urgency dulled their pain and they passed heated brawls and slipped in between flying rocks. They tried not to look at the bodies that littered the ground. But even just the colors made them feel ill, tan and black, black and tan.

  Rowland took a step and felt something crunch under his feet. A scorpion’s stinger stuck to his shoe and the rest of the creature had been flattened and smushed. Anxious to resume his flight, he saw another scorpion scurrying along the rock.

  “Help!” cried a nearby voice.

  Following the scorpion’s path, they saw a fallen ally desperately kicking up at a burned attacker who pelted him with blocks of solidified smoke. Curling under another heavy hit, the ally turned his head and caught eyes with Mira. It was Jeremy. A few scattered scorpions came to his defense, but the enemy had little trouble squashing them. His tearing, pitiful face begged for help. A jerky arm reached out to them.

  “Who’s better off without who?” Mira glowered, condemning him. She went to run on, but Vern stopped her.

  “We can’t just leave him,” Vern said, and he wasted no time stepping in to help. The attacker, his face a mass of scar tissue, swayed to his right, toppling over and sweeping into the air. He fell toward Vern, floating helplessly but holding out his hands to solidify the smoke. Still tumbling, he flung a heavy stone that drilled Vern in the ribs. Another stone sailed just between Vern and Mira.

  Both the attacker and Jeremy hopped to their feet, just as chunks of sky crashed down on Mira, Rowland, and Vern. Mira stepped in to swing at him with her mace. The ghastly-looking warrior swung his bare arm, which became covered in rock just soon enough to block the blow. A heavy stone landed on Mira from above, knocking her down. Vern and Rowland too found themselves crushed. Falling stones began to pile up on their bodies.

  Jeremy stood motionlessly behind them. A few scorpions had regrouped by his feet. He watched Mira push onto her hands and knees only to take a heavy hit on her back and collapse. The scarred attacker revealed a toothless grin as he pulled the cloudy masses out of the air. Jer
emy waited until Mira looked at him with her bloodshot eyes.

  “To answer your question, Mira. I am,” Jeremy snarled.

  “Jeremy!” Vern called, taking another hit as his former classmate disappeared into the smoke.

  The rocks piled up around them, and the crushing weight began to hurt more than the impact. Rowland managed to chuck a small stone at their attacker, but it did nothing to repel him. Standing alongside Mira’s trapped body, the morose, depraved man held his hands high in the air. The dirt and soot collected in the air until a massive boulder had formed. Struggling to support its weight, he moved it closer to Mira.

  Just before the stone was in position to crush Mira’s head, the man received a sudden kick to the back of his leg. He collapsed and the heavy stone fell on top of him, narrowly missing Mira. Where the scarred enemy once perpetrated his attacks, Chucky now stood, to the huge relief of all.

  “They’re over here!” Mary coughed, stumbling through the smoke.

  “I already found them,” Chucky said.

  Chucky started lifting the heavy stones, freeing his friends. Mary made some effort to do the same, but she had little strength to move anything.

  “Where are the others?” Mira asked, getting up and unashamedly stuffing her face with hair.

  “Roselyn’s this way,” Mary answered.

  The group of five wasted no time chasing after their target. Vern and Chucky had to drag Mary by the arms. They felt the wind kick up and the dust swirl past them, and they swerved to avoid falling into the cyclone again. The fighting concentrated in a few isolated pockets now, leaving much of the ground empty. Voices called for help or howled in pain as they rushed past.

  Mary led them toward a large group appearing in the haze. Tan and black uniforms engaged in what looked like intense, close fighting. Pairs of brawlers clumped together in a tight cluster, vying for an advantage. Afraid to find out how Roselyn had fared amidst the skirmishing, they prepared themselves for the worst and swooped in.

  Catching first sight of the faces of the fighters, it became clear that their close fighting was nothing more than hugging. Wrapped in each other’s arms, tan and black uniforms held a cozy, sustained embrace. The scene looked odd and out of place in this war-ravaged setting. Coming still closer, they saw hints of blonde curls between the bodies. Roselyn had assembled a human wall around her of warriors from both sides. Seeing her touching frenzy of love made them want to laugh.

  Her song slipped in among the sounds of carnage and catastrophes, immediately making them all yearn for a hand to hold.

  “Let’s get out while we can!” Mira shouted to Roselyn.

  Roselyn, checking to see that the coast was clear, slipped out from inside of her hiding spot. She joined the others as they raced through the smoke. Only able to judge from the cloud’s thickness, they searched for a way out.

  “Where are the others?” Mira asked Mary.

  “They’re not close, if anywhere at all,” she said.

  The ground under their feet suddenly started to feel warm, which made them rush all the more. Just when they thought the dust had clogged the entire world, it thinned enough for them to see the open landscape beyond. Emerging somewhere to the west, they scrambled along the rolling hills, pressed every moment by the sounds of fighting from within the sprawling smoky expanse.

  Coughing, they looked back at where they had just been and what they had just been through. The horrors flickered incessantly in front of their eyes.

  Traversing and scampering along the surrounding hills, they hustled toward their agreed-upon meeting place. The dust cloud, explosions, and bloodshed continued in the distance. Each jarring noise felt like the battle trying to suck them back in. They thought getting away would make them feel better, but no amount of distance brought relief.

  “Will’s over here,” Mary called.

  Passing over another bare hilltop, they weren’t too far from where they had first approached the scrub forest. On the other side, a rocky depression in the land looked secluded enough to provide some illusion of safety. Shuffling down, they saw Will cradled in the shade against a great boulder. The fingers of one hand pressed to his lips, while the other clutched a gritty, bloody knife. He stared unceasingly.

  “Whoa, are you OK? What happened?” Vern asked, approaching cautiously. Will shook when he broke out of his daze and directed his eyes to Vern.

  “Nothing happened!” Will snapped, catching Mira’s attention.

  Vern kneeled down next to Will and put his hand on his shoulder. He told him everything would be alright. Will shivered until his tremors broke into tears.

  “Fortst was right. I wish it hadn’t been me who did what I did. I shouldn’t of let it been me,” Will muttered down at his stomach.

  Everyone stood over him, unable to stop themselves from watching him cry. They grew guilty, so they turned to other matters. Seeing only seven of their ten present, everyone looked to Mary for information about their lost friends.

  “Aoi is coming…‌slowly,” Mary said, pointing to the other side of the hill.

  Wasting no time, Mira, Vern, and Rowland scaled the hill to find her. Roselyn took Vern’s spot next to Will and started to rub his back as the trio left her sight.

  “I’m here for you,” she whispered to him, pulling his head onto her shoulder.

  Keeping low when they crossed the hilltop, they followed Mary’s directions and descended toward the scrub forest. Seeing Aoi crawling on her hands and knees struck them like lightning, and they threw away all sense of caution to reach her.

  “Get her to her feet,” Mira ordered the boys.

  “No,” Aoi shuddered. Hearing her friends nearby, she could push on no longer. Her body gave out, and she lay flat on the ground. Stamping their feet to slow down when they got to her, they discovered the source of her injury. Her shoes had been burned away, revealing red, raw feet and toes. Mira pulled out her thinning bag of hair and forced some into the girl’s mouth.

  Rowland motioned to pick her up, but Vern waved him off, lifting her onto his shoulder and starting over the hill. Mira looked at Aoi’s face, which seemed groggy but not entirely without her placid contentment. How was it possible the excruciating pain didn’t make its way onto her face?

  Rejoining the others, Vern set Aoi next to Will, and the rest again sought Mary’s guidance for what to do next. This time, Mary could do nothing more than hold out her hands and shrug her helplessness. She saw their eyes widen and their lips quiver when they grasped the fate of Dot and Kurt. They looked at her with such disappointment she couldn’t help but feel it was her own fault.

  “Maybe I’m making a mistake! They might still be out there. They could have escaped somehow but couldn’t make it back here,” Mary cried.

  Everyone knew the unlikeliness of what she said, making her words serve as further proof of the obvious.

  “They didn’t deserve this,” Chucky said. He hung his head along with the others.

  “Had they been ghosts all along? My memories of them used to be so vivid, but now they just never seemed real,” Roselyn said.

  Will found a small piece of wood on the ground next to him. He started chipping at it with his knife. It startled everyone when he broke the silence.

  “Mira, you know lots of stuff. Why do people do this…‌to each other? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Mira, who knew all too well what it felt like to lose a friend, did them a favor by sparing them any sugarcoating. She spoke directly to the question to the best of her knowledge.

  “If you go out into nature, there are animals that have to fight and kill each day to survive. And if they don’t kill, they don’t survive. The only inevitable truth is death. Even though we clean ourselves with soap and climb into cozy beds, we are still animals, no different from any other. The same sensations of pain, fear, or anxiety flow through our brains to one spot called the amygdala. It receives signals about those emotions from the limbic system and then triggers a response. Most oft
en sensations of rage are tempered by another part of the brain, the septum, but there are circumstances when it runs unchecked. If you look closely at the chemicals swishing around in your head, you might see how similar we are to the animals.”

  “At least when animals have to eat there’s a reason for it,” Will went on. “This is just senseless destruction.”

  “OK, maybe there is a difference. Even if we are performing the same kind of violence, we can carry it out in an organized way because of our sophisticated brain. We can think abstractly, we form bonds outside of family, and we develop tools like this mace for war. We may not be fighting to eat, but we can fight for an idea. We can fight for something more than just a simple bodily impulse,” Mira said.

  “Is that what we’re fighting for, an idea? There are clothes in my closet I’d sooner give my life for than any idea I’ve ever had,” Mary moaned.

  “That’s because it’s not our idea that’s making us fight. There’s someone else who is driving this war. You heard…‌Pyrenee talk about him, the one who wants to crush the society he couldn’t be a part of. That resentment, that feeling of injustice, he’s driven his army forward to face their death on account of it. Did you see the ravenous look in their eyes? I’ve seen it before,” said Mira, wincing at the memory of her old mentor describing his role in her sister’s kidnapping.

  “Yeah, those guys were crazy,” Vern said, filling in the silence.

  “The Warlord’s the one who’s behind this whole thing. Everything. We could take out legions and legions of his warriors and it wouldn’t make any difference as long as he’s still sitting in the background.”

  “Legions and legions?” Rowland spoke up. “I didn’t take out a single one!”

  “Count yourself lucky,” Will grumbled.

  “So what are we going to do?” Roselyn asked.

  Vern put his hand to his chin and shook his head. Their group had already been broken, those remaining were weak and downtrodden, and they were still stuck near a battlefield where they could be set upon at any time. They also had virtually nothing in the way of supplies.