The Powerless Series: Complete 5-Book Set

by Jason Letts

  “And I thought I’d never have to see this place again,” Will grumbled.

  Placing another fireball on a tree right before the ground began to drop, they then turned to the south and began sprinting in a new direction. Passing around the edge, they observed the large stones that housed their nest. Several Walktopuses wandered about, and a few hissed at them from below.

  “I hope this helps,” Vern said as they raced over the rugged terrain through the ravaged forest. By the time they estimated that those chasing them would run into their trap, they were already too far to see or hear anything. The thickening forest seemed to provide them with enough cover for their getaway, but they could never be sure they were free from another surprise attack. Through it all, Aoi cradled Mira’s body and carried her along without a hint of discomfort. They often tried to check on her condition, but her bobbing head and whipping hair told them nothing.

  As the sun dipped lower in the sky, they ran southwest, growing more exhausted with every step. Their pace slowed to a steady trot as the immediacy of the danger receded. Eventually, Mary broke down and stopped completely. The others didn’t hesitate to stop themselves.

  “We have to keep going! It would still be so easy for them to find us here,” Vern said.

  “I can’t do anything with my stomach eating me from the inside!” Mary complained. She held her midsection and sat on a boulder nestled alongside a burned tree.

  “And I thought yesterday was the worst day of my life,” Rowland moaned, himself settling down and catching his breath.

  Behind him, Aoi set Mira on the ground. Her skin had gone pale, her eyes were still closed, and her body lay unresponsively against a tree. The others crowded around, prodding and shaking her.

  “Look at that cut on her face! Aoi, what did you do?” accused Will after noticing a nasty slice on her cheek.

  “You can be sure I didn’t do it,” Aoi explained. “It’s right where she was hit by that green gunk.”

  “What is it doing to her? Is she even alive?” Roselyn asked, turning to Vern.

  “How am I supposed to know?” Vern shrugged.

  Aoi put her hand in front of Mira’s face. The slight force of her breath brushed against her fingers. Mira’s chest didn’t rise or fall at all, nor did she make any other movement that would indicate she lived.

  “She’s still breathing, barely,” Aoi said.

  “She kind of went crazy back there,” Chucky noted.

  “Was it really any different than she’s been all along?” Will scowled. “It’s her fault we’re here, and now we have to drag her around.”

  He earned surprised and disturbed looks for his comment but didn’t back away from them.

  “What? Somebody tell me I’m wrong. I thought that’s why we didn’t want Aoi to be leader, because she would just charge in head first and get us all killed…‌not that you would do that now,” Will quibbled to Aoi.

  “She made it sound like a good idea at the time,” Vern said.

  “I agree with Will,” Mary gushed. “I’m more afraid of her than even that monster she tried to kill. At least he isn’t pretending to help us.”

  “I wonder why she didn’t strike him,” Aoi added.

  “She was stupid for thinking he wouldn’t coerce her,” Will said, garnering a particularly harsh glance from Roselyn, whose cheek was still red. Arms crossed, she rose from her seat next to him and took a few steps before turning suddenly.

  “What do we do if she stops breathing?” Roselyn asked.

  “What do we do if she keeps breathing?” Rowland countered, shoulders shrugging and eyebrows raised in disbelief. “You saw her before she went under. She was ready to kill us. What if we carry her all over just so she can pick up right where she left off?”

  For a moment everyone contemplated the other possible course of action, one that had seemed unthinkable just a few hours ago. Will got up, leaned in front of Mira’s unconscious body, and spoke directly to her oblivious face.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but we have no other choice. We leave Mira behind. She said she was going to die out here, but the rest of us never made any such promise. She knew we’d be dumb enough to buy into her glorious rescue mission. Well the jig is up!”

  Vern, beside himself, gazed out at the group of friends he’d known his entire life. They were in a strange place, somewhere they were never supposed to be, but because of the people he was with it was never really that bad.

  “There is no way we’re just walking away from her! She is our leader and we owe her that much. But beyond that, you are the people I’ve shared my life with, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to hold onto any of you. That includes Mira. If it weren’t for her we probably wouldn’t have made it through that first battle,” Vern said.

  “Yeah, it worked out great for Dot and Kurt,” Will mumbled. He sat on the ground, picking at the bone chips he carried with his knife. “But I’m not going to stop you from carrying her. How long are we planning to stay here?”

  “Where are we going anyway?” Chucky asked Vern.

  “I don’t know. Why is everybody asking me these questions?” Vern replied.

  “Well, you wanted to be leader,” Rowland said. “Looks like now you got it.”

  Vern blinked, shocked by the situation he found himself in. As far as he was concerned, Mira was his leader, but now everyone looked to him for some idea of what to do. It didn’t seem like the brilliant, courageous role he thought it would be, especially when he had no answers for the dangers that threatened them.

  “We have to get Mira help,” he stammered, squirming uncomfortably under his friends’ eyes. “Let’s start with some of Nora’s hair, and then let’s keep going. We can’t stay here.”

  “There’s only one place for us to go,” Aoi hinted.

  “Shade Base Camp,” Vern blurted. “There’s got to be someone there who can help us. Considering we don’t know how long Mira will last, we can’t waste any time because it isn’t safe here,” Vern said, resounding on a grim note as he scanned the area. He saw the orange glow of torches far in the distance on both sides. Their pursuers had not given up the chase.

  “I can’t go anywhere. I’m starving!” Mary moaned, accentuating her point by sliding off the rock. Many of the others expressed similar sentiments. They all waited for Vern to solve their problems.

  “Fine. I’ll handle this. Just sit tight,” he said.

  Vern started hunting around the area, kicking at the dirt and staring at the ground through the dimming light. His friends watched him use a stick to poke at the ash. Finding some weeds, Vern grabbed at them, ripping them out. Returning to the group, he proudly presented them in outstretched hands. Mary, surprisingly willing to eat strange looking plants, stuffed them in her mouth. Biting down, a look of disgust quickly swept over her and she spit them all out.

  “You can’t eat these! Yuck!” Mary wailed.

  “How was I supposed to know? They looked fine,” Vern defended.

  “You mean you weren’t paying attention to what you were cramming down your throat before?” Will snapped.

  “Me? What about you?” he countered, before striking a more sensitive tone. “Does anybody remember the plants that we ate?”

  Blank stares and silence draped over them all, giving them a chance to notice the darkness taking hold of the skies. The hunger made their stomachs rumble and the saliva seep into their mouths.

  “I can try,” Aoi relented, rising and brushing the ash from her pants. She took Mira’s flashlight from her pocket and started looking around. Since the light could easily beckon trouble, she stayed low and carefully directed the light. It took a little while, but soon she found just enough leaves to fill her little fists. It seemed a meager dinner, but they divided the findings and nibbled away at them.

  Vern eventually roused them to move on, and they started walking through the forest as quickly and quietly as they could. Following the threads in the glittery web above,
they curved around to the west. Keeping their still-hungry stomachs quiet proved to be more difficult than silencing their footsteps against the sandy ground of the wasteland. They continued on for a few hours, grateful for each peaceful minute of it, before their fatigue ground them to a halt.

  Supporting heavy heads and heavy legs, they dipped behind the flat face of a rocky hill. The ground seemed much sandier here, and they wondered if they had reached the southern edge of the scrub forest where the wasteland met the desert.

  “I’ll keep watch first,” Roselyn offered. “And I mean it this time.”

  “I’ll take second,” Aoi said, setting Mira down on what seemed like a comfortable spot just a pace or two away from where the others would sleep. Light from the moon and the web’s shimmering strands caressed her face.

  “I’ll be third,” Vern asserted, anxious for a chance to make up for his many mistakes since taking charge. Settling on his side, he made one last comment to Roselyn, who sang a beautiful lullaby to help her friends to sleep.

  “Even though I became class leader, I was always jealous of your power. To be able to put a smile on someone’s face like you do might be the best one of all.”

  Time passed, and Roselyn sang for her sleeping friends, bringing them sweet dreams and relief from their plentiful worries. Once she could no longer stay awake, she woke Aoi. Using her toothpicks and another large stone, Aoi spent her watch training her heart. Letting her failure in the battle and her burned feet fade into the past, she inhaled the calm, cool night.

  Putting her hand to his shoulder, Aoi woke Vern. He looked at her and the way her hair shined as it curved around her face. Without saying anything, they exchanged places and Vern prepared to stand guard. After taking a quick look around and checking to see that Aoi had fallen asleep, he went to Mira’s body, cradled in a seated position against the sloping ground.

  He kneeled next to her, noticing that the cut on her face grew red and swollen. The hair they forced down her throat did nothing to heal it. Vern’s body tensed as he gazed at her lifeless, placid face. His eyebrows furrowed. Reluctantly, he extended his hand out to her, touching her shoulder and shaking it.

  “Mira, you need to wake up. I can’t…‌I can’t do this without you. I don’t know what to do. Please.”

  Staring at her for a moment, he begged for a response. Something rustled behind him, and he jerked to look. Aoi sat up, wide awake, her eyes upon him. He didn’t know if she heard him, but he felt embarrassed anyway. His mouth hung open a little and he could feel a bit of water well into his eyes. Aoi got up, came over, and kneeled down alongside him. She put her hand on his shoulder.

  “We’re all just trying to do the best we can. That’s all we can ever do,” she whispered.

  “How awful it is to wonder if your best is enough to keep your friends alive,” he sighed, closing his eyes as he said things he knew needed to be kept secret.

  “You’re not alone,” Aoi cooed. “I’m here to help you. There’s nothing I want more.”

  She removed her hand from his shoulder, leaving his side and returning to her spot on the bare ground, but Vern didn’t watch her go. His eyes remained fixed on Mira, still desperate for the guidance that could come only from within her mind.

  Chapter 7: Dreamscape I

  Mira’s heavy eyelids fluttered open and she rolled her head against a lush bed of moss. Thick pine trees rose horizontally across her field of vision, and she could sense that, wherever she was, darkness descended upon her. The only thing more noticeable to her than the absolute silence was the beauty of this natural garden.

  Before she could even move, deep pangs and aches beset her frail body. Each thought felt like a great grinding, as if she had slept there forever, and the emptiness of her stomach roared from within her. But through all of her pain, she struggled to reconcile where she was and where she had been. Propping herself up against one arm, she rubbed her eyes, expecting to see the ashen scrub forest and the Warlord’s vexing countenance when she reopened them.

  She recalled the hatred she had felt at the sight of him as well as the sense of connection that he instilled in her. His words conjured up many of the things she had learned. He understood how defenseless she was, what it meant to be alone, and above all, he reminded her that truth was made at the hands of the fearless and the powerful.

  “Vern? Chucky? Aoi?”

  Though she called for them, Mira knew they couldn’t understand her the way he did. They had always looked down on her for being different, and their respect would have to come by force. That’s exactly why the Warlord and his soldiers fought, to get the respect they deserved. Weren’t they also worthy of her help? Mira had thought for so long they were trying to corrupt a peaceful society, but it now became clear they only wanted to be equals. Every ounce of blood they took brought another ounce of respect.

  Still feeling unsettled and groggy, Mira pushed against the ground’s soft moss and got to her feet. The growing darkness prevented her from seeing too far in any direction, and thus she had no hope of identifying this small tract of land around her. Setting her hand against the rough exterior of a mighty oak tree, she peeked around for anything that might guide her back or fill her stomach.

  It all seemed hopeless though. There was nothing around. She sat down by a tree and a bush on a spot as good as any other. Resting her chin on her fist, she tried to figure out what to do.

  “Are you OK?”

  The startling voice came from behind, but that was impossible because she had just checked there and found the area vacant. She quickly swiveled to the side so she could glance back. A concerned face leaned around the side of the tree. The face was her father’s.

  Mira scrambled to her feet and turned to face him as he emerged from the brush. He had a hatchet in one hand and a bundle of sticks in the other. Overcome by confusion at seeing him, his parted hair, and his dimples, she blurted out the only question that could come to mind.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Why, I live out here,” he said, smiling. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t. That’s why I came to check on you. Someone’s got to be awful lost to have wandered out here.”

  Now that he had come closer, Mira could get a better look at him through the dimming light. His hair didn’t have any gray in it. Some of the wrinkles had gone. He looked younger than he did the last time she saw him, when she had sworn to her parents she would do whatever it took to retrieve Clara. Their injured eyes had told her it had already taken too much.

  “But I do have an idea where you did come from. I’d recognize my old academy uniform anywhere. Must’ve been a long trek to Dee Dee Grove from down in Corey Outpost,” he chuckled.

  Mira looked at herself for the first time and realized she had on the white academy uniform she had worn back home. But that didn’t make any sense and neither did her father’s way of speaking. He seemed friendly yet guarded, like he spoke to a stranger.

  “It’s me!”

  “Who’s ‘me’?” he asked, blinking.

  “Mira…‌your daughter,” Mira explained.

  “Yes, Mira’s my daughter, but let’s get back to who you are,” he said.

  Mira put her hand to her face. She thought it was out of frustration and confusion, but the kind and unassuming man perceived it as a sign of lightheadedness and amnesia. He put his arm around her to steady her. Slowly guiding her forward through the shadowy forest, he did his best to comfort her.

  “We can’t leave a stranger out in the cold, not in our neck of the woods least of all. Some fire and food will set you right in no time, and we can figure out what to do about getting you home. Is ole Mert Bogger still teaching there? What a goof that one is.”

  He rambled on for another minute or two as they skirted around a bush and ducked under a branch. Mira’s feet shuffled against the grass and twigs on the forest floor. Having looked this way before, she thought it would be an eternity before they reached anywhere. So it surprised her when
the very next step brought her to a clearing on a hill. Bright lights gleaned through the windows of a modest house in the center.

  Stepping into the tall grass, she knew she had been here before. But instead of debris and wreckage covering the ground, the quaint home’s light revealed a healthy woodpile, a garden patch much like she had tended at Cloud Cottage, and an unusual metal sill to collect water.

  Mira didn’t understand what was happening. Nothing made sense. Still, her father brought her to the door, dropping the bundle of sticks and the hatchet down near the woodpile. He had a healthy smile on his face as he opened the door, enticed by what he was sure to find. Having little choice and even less understanding, Mira crossed into the warm light.

  The first thing that struck her was the sweet smell of cinnamon permeating the home. She stood near the door in front of a dinner table set with cute tablecloths and napkins. This room joined the kitchen on one side and the living room in the other. The fire in the kitchen’s hearth roared. In the living room, a simple staircase led to what must be the sleeping quarters on the second floor.

  But Mira noticed all of this in only an instant, and the door had only just closed when someone emerged from the kitchen. Mira immediately recognized her mother, who also looked free of many of her years. She wore an apron and dried her wet hands against the cloth. Appraising what had come through the door, she tried to force a stodgy frown over her cheerful smile.

  “I knew it’d only be a matter of time until you brought home a younger woman,” Jeana joked, her hands on her hips.

  “Beauty is learned, my love, and you know every trick in the book,” Kevin said, giving her a kiss. “I found her lost and destitute in the woods. Neither of us have the foggiest idea of how she got there. She can get warmed up by the fire while I help you in the kitchen.”

  “No, no, no,” Jeana objected. “It’s my turn fair and square.”