The Origin

by Youkey, Wilette

  Daniel was grateful for the much-needed reprieve. He had stirred when Olivia rose to dress but had quickly fallen back into unconsciousness once she’d kissed him goodbye. He suspected that she had whispered something in his ear – something that would send him to a dreamless sleep for a long time – and for that, he was thankful. So it was with an angry huff that he awoke to the phone as it rang in the cradle.

  “Hello?” He held the phone up to his ear and scratched his right pectoral where the skin itched, irate that his blissful nothing of a dream had been interrupted.

  “Daniel, it’s Stephen.”

  Daniel opened his eyes with a start. Somehow, in the chaos of the past week, the fact that he still had to keep watch over a bank lobby had escaped his mind. In light of everything that had transpired, his day job suddenly felt so insignificant.

  Let the bad guys steal some money. I don’t care, he thought testily. If the last few days had taught him nothing else, it was that there were far more significant things in the universe that required his attention than opening doors for little old ladies who insisted on depositing their checks the archaic way.

  “Stephen, I’m sorry.” All of a sudden, it struck him that he was plain tired of apologizing. “I’ve been dealing with some personal issues.”

  “Daniel, personal issues aside, Chase Bank has no need for an unreliable security guard.” His tone was all business, as though they had never spoken before.

  “I understand, Stephen,” Daniel said, trying to inject some sincerity in his voice when, in reality, he could not have cared less.

  “You do know that that I’m letting you go, correct? You’re being fired.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Yes.”

  “Drop off your uniform today,” Stephen said as if Daniel had robbed the bank instead of protecting it these past few months.

  Funny how quickly people turned on you.

  After hanging up, Daniel sat on the edge of the bed and rested his face in his hands, sighing wearily. He was tired of being in a funk, tired of feeling like a depressed piece of crap, tired of the instinct to hide. He needed to get out and breathe some fresh air.

  Dressed in his usual jeans, sweatshirt and green jacket, he emerged from the apartment and into the unexpected sunshine. The day was a beautiful, crisp New York day that held promise of an end to the grey winter, and he angled his face up to the warm rays for a few minutes before his stomach rumbled its dissent.

  Several seconds later, he stood in front of Johann’s Diner, staring through the window with trepidation at the woman he’d come to associate with misfortune. He couldn’t even begin to guess why she’d come here again, but already he knew he would not like it.

  With a ball of dread weighing heavy in his stomach, he opened the door and trudged towards the booth where she sat.

  “Daniel,” she said, her glasses reflecting the fluorescent light so that he found it hard to see her eyes. One side of her full, red lips curled up. “Will you please lose the attitude and sit down?”

  “What are you doing here?” He clasped his hands on the worn Formica table, a wall to protect himself from the woman who could read minds and divine the future.

  She pursed her lips and lost her glasses, revealing two big brown eyes framed with thick lashes. “Would you quit that? I’m not some sort of gypsy oracle.”

  “Then what the hell are you doing here? This is no coincidence.” He tried to block his thoughts by humming a tune.

  She laughed. “That doesn’t work, by the way. I can still hear what you’re thinking.” She sobered up and leaned forward, the steam from the coffee mug rising like ghostly fingers to caress her face. “And you’re right. I’m here to bring you some bad news.”

  Daniel sighed. “Damn.” He rubbed the short spikes of his hair, sure that the police had already linked him to the deaths at the Wheat bar. “Alright, let me have it.”

  “It’s not that.” Coral took a deep breath before she spoke again, a tiny motion that petrified Daniel to the core. “The first time we met, I saw a vision. Of you and me inside a house.”

  His eyes narrowed as he fought the urge to laugh in relief. “As in living together?” Another laugh was stifled at the absurdity of the statement.

  She winced. “It’s not that farfetched. I’m not so horrible.”

  “It’s not you,” he said quickly. He shut his mouth and let his thoughts complete the picture of his affection for Olivia, infusing the image with warmth.

  “Regardless,” Coral said softly, her eyes cast down. “It’s what I saw. And I haven’t been wrong yet, have I?”

  Not exactly, he thought. “You could have warned me about Rap’s brother.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind,” he said, waving away the memories of the man who’d so willingly tried to murder him. Not that he hadn’t deserved to die for what he’d done to Rap and to the others. He forced his thoughts away, towards his found balaclava. “What about the police? Have you had any visions about them?”

  She frowned. “No. But they’re the least of your worries, Daniel. Remember when I said you were contagious but I didn’t know anything else?”

  His eyes widened and his heart lost the ability to function. “You know.”

  “Yes.” Coral leaned forward once more, her eyes wild with intensity. “I lied that night. I know what it is you infect people with.”

  “What is it?” he said, straining against his skin. “Tell me, Coral.”

  “I…”

  He pounded his fist on the table, very nearly breaking it in half. “Damn it Coral, tell me!”

  “Okay, okay!” she said, shrinking back into the vinyl seat, though the fire in her eyes remained. “You infect people with special powers.”

  30 | PRESERVING THE INNOCENT

  “What?” Daniel shot to his feet and tried to absorb what he stood accused of, but his brain, whether for lack of trying or flat out denial, refused to compute. “I don’t understand.”

  “Sit down, please,” Coral hissed under her breath and glanced around at the other diners.

  With his eyes firmly fixed on the woman, he lowered himself to the seat.

  “Your skin has an effect, similar to a virus that spreads on contact,” she said, going slowly for his benefit. “Except in your case, you’re not spreading germs. You’re spreading powers.”

  He leaned into his palm and covered his eyes. Immediately he thought of the people he’d encountered with special abilities like his own. Had he unwittingly awakened those powers in them? “But there are others, like that kid who can walk through walls. How did I infect him with a power I don’t have?”

  “I’m not entirely sure, but the virus invades the cells of the host and takes over what’s already there.” She shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I’m not a geneticist.”

  “Shit!” he said, gripping the edge of the table and feeling the pressed wood disintegrate under his fingers. He had touched, accidentally or otherwise, hundreds of people in his twenty-seven years of existence. And many of them had been criminals, the same ones he had been trying to quash in the first place. Had he unintentionally armed an entire city of criminals with extraordinary powers? “How can you be so sure? You could be wrong!” You have to be wrong!

  “I’m not. This is your destiny,” Coral said without a trace of doubt on her face. “Once you touch someone, you can awaken their power.”

  “I can? Meaning, it doesn’t happen with everyone?” he said with renewed hope. He was splitting hairs, but he didn’t care. The game had suddenly changed on him, and he needed all the rules.

  “I don’t think so. Just like with a regular virus, some people are immune.”

  Daniel paused, trying to stop his whirling dervish of thoughts. The power to propagate more powers was a responsibility that no mere mortal – especially one so foolish and weak of will – should ever bear.

  “So can they fight the virus off? I mean, if it works like a virus, then the body’s immune system should
be able to fight it off, right?” He looked at her with wide eyes as a current of hope surged through his veins. “Right?”

  She shook her head gently. “I honestly don’t know,” she said, placing her delicate fingers on the table as if afraid to reach out further and comfort him. “But there’s nothing you can do to change what you are, Daniel. You can’t fight this off.”

  Daniel eased his hand away from the crumbled edge of the table, stood up and left wordlessly, unable to bring himself to thank the constant bearer of bad news.

  “I’ll see you later,” she said as she put her glasses back on.

  As he stepped onto the sidewalk, he turned around and took one final look at the window, knowing that he was doomed to see that face again. Still, one could hope for a miracle.

  Without warning, a person bumped into his shoulder, making him jump back as if electrocuted. He watched closely as the woman threw a half-hearted apology his way and walked off – the typical New Yorker on her way to whatever it was that was so important – but saw no signs of changes in her. He didn’t know how fast the infection took hold, if he could even transmit it through clothing, but he had to remind himself to be vigilant. Better to be overly cautious than overly sorry.

  He pulled the sweatshirt’s grey hood over his head as he walked towards the grocery store, his hands firmly tucked into his pockets, realizing he would have to eat at home from now on. In fact, he would have to do everything at home from now on. New York was not an easy place to isolate oneself.

  As he continued on the busy sidewalk (Had it always been this busy? he wondered with mounting panic), he found himself recoiling each time a person came near, unable to shake the irrepressible fear of contaminating one more bystander, of arming one more bad guy.

  Once inside a small grocery store, he was even more unnerved to find the place full of customers, with strollers and shopping carts that took up half the aisle. He noted with unease the lines at the checkout counters that were several people deep, including the self-checkout counters. But most alarming of all, sticking the breath to his throat, were the children. They were everywhere, pulling boxes off shelves, sitting in carts with their slobbery smiles, all innocently living their normal little lives.

  Daniel exited the store immediately, heart drumming in his chest painfully as he gasped for air. He hadn’t even thought of the children, hadn’t even considered how infecting them would surely alter their lives forever.

  Unable to stomach the thought of condemning a child to a life of abnormality and seclusion – like the one he himself had endured – he doubled over and threw up on the sidewalk.

  31 | AN ULTIMATUM DELIVERED

  “Hey, Olivia…” Cheyenne said, taking a seat on the long, wooden bench inside the dressing room.

  Olivia regarded the very first friend she’d made in New York, wondering what concern was creasing her forehead. “What’s up?”

  Cheyenne reached for her hand and squeezed. “I just want you to know that I would never wish you harm just to dance the lead.”

  “Why would you even think I would think that about you?” Olivia said, the words tumbling out in rapid succession. “I know you wouldn’t!”

  “It’s just that Alex came here and was asking me–”

  “Alex?”

  She nodded. “Yes. He was here the night you disappeared, asking me if I knew anything about your kidnapping. At first he was acting as if it was my fault, like I would actually get someone to kidnap you just to dance lead. Then he apologized. He was so worried about you. If I didn’t know better, I would think he was in–”

  “I would never think that about you,” Olivia said quickly. She patted her friend’s hand, trying to act nonchalant even though fond feelings for Alex warmed her face.

  Cheyenne smiled and began to unlace her slippers. “Are you okay, though? Physically, I mean.”

  Olivia paused. “I think so. Why?”

  “It could be nothing, but it looked like you were favoring your right leg during class,” she said with an exaggerated shrug.

  Olivia froze. She had not realized that anyone had noticed, had tried her best to dance through the pain. “I, uh...”

  Cheyenne put an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. After all that you’ve been through, and I’m not just talking about the kidnapping, I mean before then, when you worked so hard to get the lead. Anyway, I think you deserve to dance the rest of Swan Lake.”

  Olivia smiled, trying to keep her lips from trembling. “I love you, Chey,” she said, leaning her head against her friend’s. “But you’re right. I’m pretty sure I pulled a muscle in my calf.” And she knew that if Cheyenne noticed, everybody else in the class would have as well, for not only had they all been trained to be aware of each other’s movements, but they were also watching her extra carefully after recent events.

  “You can just see the therapist,” Cheyenne said with an apologetic shrug. “It wasn’t that noticeable."

  “You’re a terrible liar,” Olivia said with a resigned smile, knowing that the physical therapist could only do so much for her leg. “You should dance as Odette.”

  “No, I shouldn’t. Odette’s yours,” she said, having the grace to look horrified.

  “She’s ours.”

  Cheyenne chewed on her lower lip and exhaled through her nose. “Okay, but only if you promise to take it easy so that you can dance the final performance.”

  Olivia agreed with a sad smile. “I can’t think of a better way to end it all.”

  Cheyenne’s eyes grew wide. “End what all? You’d better not be saying what I think you’re saying!” She grabbed Olivia by the shoulders and began to shake. “You’d better not quit or I’ll go Tonya Harding on your ass!”

  “Shh!” Olivia said, glancing around the locker room for any eavesdroppers. “I haven’t completely decided yet.”

  Cheyenne shook her again. “Well then undecide! You are way too good a dancer to quit now!”

  “What would you do if you knew you only had a little while to live? Would you keep dancing? Or would you do something else?”

  “Are you dying?” Cheyenne’s pretty face filled with horror.

  “No,” Olivia said, which, as long as she ignored the lump in her neck, was the truth. “But what if?”

  Cheyenne gasped, holding a hand up to her chest. “You’re killing me here!” She took several deep, exaggerated breaths. “Okay, if I were dying, then I would probably quit ballet and go off on adventures. But I’m not dying. And neither are you,” she said, giving Olivia a pointed look.

  “We’re all dying, Chey.” She stood up and slipped her duffel bag around her shoulder.

  “You’re so melodramatic,” Cheyenne said with a withering look. “Just get better by Saturday, will you? You have a closing night to dance.”

  Olivia was making her way back to her apartment when she found Alex wearing a path in front of her door.

  “Olivia!” he said in obvious relief. “Why the hell have you not been answering your phone?”

  She shrugged. “I just,” she began to say then realized that she hadn’t even bothered to collect her cell phone from Smith yet. Surprisingly, she no longer felt at all lost without it. “I accidentally left it with Smith.”

  “Where is he anyway? Isn’t he supposed to be with you at all times?” Alex took a step closer, still afraid to touch her, still afraid to cause distress. She found herself wishing he would man up and just throw his arms around her already. Just so they wouldn’t have to stand around awkwardly anymore.

  “He’s waiting in the car, actually.” She put a hand on the doorknob and inserted her key. “I’m just here to take a shower, then we’re headed to Daniel’s.”

  She felt the moment Alex stiffened beside her, as if the blood instantly froze in his veins. “You can’t go there.” His tone was rough and commanding, and left her irritated.

  “You can’t tell me what to do.” If a
nybody was going to do any commanding between the two of them, it was definitely not him. “He’s my boyfriend and I have every reason to go there.”

  “Don’t you have to perform tonight?” he said, changing his tactic.

  “No. I’m not performing until Saturday.” She pushed the door open and stepped inside, not finding any reason to care if he followed her or not.

  He did. “Your dad called me, Mei.”

  She stopped and turned to him. “Why?”

  “He wants me to convince you to come to King Towers. He wants me to take you there myself.”

  “Did you tell him that you’re not the person he hired behind my back to follow my every move?” she said, her face feeling hot. “Seeing my father is the last thing I want to do right now because I will end up saying things I’d rather not say to my last living parent.”

  “But he’s your dad!” Alex said, throwing his hands up in the air. “At least you can still go see him! I can’t even do that, you know, and here you are, throwing away a relationship with your father.”

  “What do you mean you can’t do that? You can just fly back to Sweden any time you like.”

  Alex visibly deflated. “I can’t, not anymore.”

  “For goodness sakes, it’s not that far from–“

  “My dad died, Mei. He’s dead,” he said almost in a panic. He let out a long, slow breath. “The reason I went back to Sweden was because he had heart problems. I moved back to help with the business just until he was done with all of the operations. We thought he was going to make a full recovery, but his heart just couldn’t take it.”

  The angry words stuck in Olivia’s throat as she keenly felt every particle of his grief as her own. Alex had adored his father, had talked about him every chance he could find. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked softly.

  He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I couldn’t.”

  “But you were there at my mother’s funeral. Of all people, I would have understood.” She crossed the room and threw her arms around him, but he twisted away almost immediately.