by KT Webb
The first time Thatcher discovered his abilities, he was in his bedroom, on his fourth birthday. He had tried to play with his new baseball in the house, and was in his room thinking about his actions. He almost broke the lamp his mother said came from her grandmother. He remembered thinking it wasn't fair because he didn't even get any cake. And he remembered being almost asleep when he heard his parents coming down the hall. He propped himself up on his elbows, sure he was about to get a good talking to, but was greeted by his smiling parents, holding a piece of cake with a candle on top. They sang “Happy Birthday” to him, and he watched the flame dance in the dim light of his room.
After that, things became a blur. It was like a skipping DVD—some scenes played clearly, others repeated themselves, and still others were missing completely. He could remember thinking the flame was pretty, and he liked watching it waver as his parents’ breath blew it with their song.
His next memory was of the paper plate catching on fire and his mother dropping it as she cried out in alarm. Thatcher remembered his father yelling words he'd gotten in trouble for repeating days before. He remembered the panic set in as the fire suddenly seemed to engulf the whole room. It seemed the more he panicked, the stronger the blaze became.
He still didn't know what exactly happened after that. He knew his parents died, and he knew it was his fault. He was told his mother almost made it out, but his father didn't stand a chance. He often held Steggie and wondered if he had traded his mother for a stupid stuffed dinosaur. Sometimes, when he had nightmares, he saw his father completely engulfed in flames, desperately trying to extinguish them. Thatcher had no way of knowing if it was a memory, or just a terrifying vision he'd conjured up as a result of the stories police and social workers told him.
At the age of seventeen, there was only one thing Thatcher Kline knew for sure; he was alone. His parents were dead, he was a freak, and felt withdrawn from the world because of the fear he held that his ability would kill everyone he let himself care about.
Thatcher took a deep breath and continued down the alley, feeling the warmth slowly wear off. It was unseasonably cold for September, even in the Midwest. He wasn't sure what made him decide to head to this small town; it probably had something to do with the fact that he’d never been to South Dakota, and therefore, none of the police or social workers knew to look for him. He smiled at the thought of being free. It wasn't a feeling he knew, after spending so many years being treated like property.
The alley spilled out onto one of the main roads in the town. He hadn't bothered to learn the names of either because he wasn't sure he would be staying. He began to look for a place to rest while he considered his next step. He sat down on a bench and found himself staring at a mural. From the building-sized painting, he discovered the town must be called Benton.
The quiet morning was interrupted by the jingle of a bell. Thatcher looked up to discover four people leaving a building, which proclaimed itself as the Benton Book Nook. He watched them for a moment, then leaned his head back on the bench and shut his eyes.
“Well, Thatcher, just in time! This is all turning out so well!”
Thatcher snapped his eyes open and found himself staring at the group of people who had just come out of the book store.
“My name is Dorian. This is Kerr, Hadley, and Whitley. If only you'd gotten here a few hours ago, you could have heard the story with them.” Dorian smiled.
Thatcher raised an eyebrow and looked at the man who had just introduced himself as Dorian. He realized his mouth was hanging open, and quickly shut it with a shake of his head.
“I'm sorry, how do you know me?” Thatcher asked, feeling suspicious after his experience with Silas and Caprice.
“Oh, we'll get to that. You might as well come along with us, young man.” Dorian smiled kindly and gave Thatcher an appraising look. “You look just like him. It's terrifying, really.”
The others looked to be about his age, or maybe a little older. They looked just as confused as he felt, but he thought he'd better play along for now. He nodded at each of them, studying their faces for the first time. The guy who was introduced as Kerr looked like the kind of guy that girls seemed to love these days; he had dark messy hair and looked like a Greek sculpture. At first glance, Thatcher thought he could probably take the guy down if he needed to, but then he noticed the muscular arms and shoulders under his striped polo shirt.
The girls were identical in every way, apart from their clothes. They had shiny, long golden hair and eyes the color of chocolate. He noticed the girls stayed close to the Greek god, and held hands in an attempt to stay together. He eyed them warily.
“Um, look, I don't know who you are or how you know me, but I'm not going anywhere with you,” Thatcher retorted.
Dorian smiled and looked directly at him. “I've just told these three they're descendants of an ancient race of immortals and have special abilities, and they're still coming with me. As a matter of fact, you already know about your abilities. Why don't you show them so they can be reassured I'm really not filling them with hot air.”
Thatcher raised his eyes to meet Dorian’s. A silent agreement passed between them. He didn't know who this man was, but he’d gotten himself out of more dangerous situations. And he was interested in hearing the same story he'd told the others. Thatcher nodded his head and took a deep breath. He snapped his fingers and a flame came to life in his hand. Whitley cried out and tightened her grip on her sister. Hadley uttered a few choice words, and Kerr looked dumbfounded.
“Holy crap,” was all Kerr managed to utter as he leaned away.
“Thatcher discovered his ability on his own when he was four. And from what I saw today, Whitley is beginning to discover hers. You each have a natural tendency to use your ability, but haven't realized your full potential yet. Kerr, you have a knack for reading the intentions of others, and much more. Hadley, I know you've been working on your control over weather. And Whitley, your display with the exploding lights shows your control over matter and the energy around you. This is just the beginning of what you can do. Even Thatcher has only scratched the surface of his abilities. You each have inherited the main ability of your ancestor, but have also been imbued with the abilities of my brethren who have faded away.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. A look of concern crossed Thatcher’s face.
“Do you know a Silas or a Caprice?” Thatcher asked with a furrowed brow.
“Yes. I know you had the unfortunate experience of meeting them. However, Caprice did not survive your encounter. She was incinerated. You see, Old Immortals can only be killed by The Evolved. And whether you knew what you were doing or not, your pyrotechnics managed to take down one of our enemies,” Dorian responded.
“How can you talk so nonchalantly about your siblings? I can't imagine what I would do if something happened to Hadley. She's part of me,” Whitley said in a very small voice.
Dorian laughed. “You have to forgive my terminology. The members of my race are not actually my brothers and sisters in the literal sense. But we have been together for so long we call each other by those familial terms. So, they are all essentially my family.”
Thatcher had already made up his mind. He was going to follow Dorian. If these others had abilities like him, and if he had more abilities to discover, maybe he would finally find a place he fit in.
“Well, are we going somewhere or what?” Thatcher asked.
Dorian nodded. “Yes, let's get going, my car is over there. I think we can all squeeze in. We'll be at my home just in time for supper.”
The group followed Dorian to his car and literally had to squeeze into the lime green Ford Focus. Thatcher sat in the front seat. As the youngest and newest addition to the Evolved, he felt like a bit of an outcast. They drove for a little while in silence, but Thatcher could feel the tension in the air.
“So, Thatcher, it's a bit strange that you suddenly showed up here,” said Kerr.
“Trust me, it wasn't sudden. I've been on the run for months. After my run in with Mr. and Mrs. Psycho, I just kept going. I didn't want to get caught, and I was convinced they were following me,” Thatcher said.
“Where were you before?” Hadley asked curiously.
“I grew up in Illinois, and that's where I was until about a month ago when I was adopted by the parents from hell,” Thatcher responded.
“So you made it across three states in a month. Have you been hitchhiking or walking?” Kerr asked.
“A little of both. For a while I even traveled with a carnival, and I ran the ferris wheel. It got me across Wisconsin in no time,” Thatcher said.
Thatcher turned in his seat to look at his new friends. He decided this would be a good time to tell them what happened to his family. He looked at each of them and hesitated. He didn't want them to have a negative opinion of him already, but it would happen sooner or later, and he'd rather not have the pretense of friendship beforehand.
“I gotta tell you guys why I was a ward of the state.” Thatcher took a deep breath and continued, “My parents are dead. And I killed them.”
Dorian spoke up. “Thatcher, don't ever look at it like that. You didn't know what you were doing.”
“You knew? You knew this whole time and you never came to find me? I am seriously screwed up because I killed my parents, and you could have kept me from getting this way?” He felt the heat rise in his cheeks and had to control himself.
Dorian looked at him sadly, shaking his head. “I couldn't. When I learned about you, I realized there was no way I could bring you in. It was best for you to move around a lot. You are the last descendant of Absalom. If you’d been in one place it would have made it too easy for him to find you. It took them fourteen years to get to you in the foster system. I'm sorry, Thatcher, but this was the only way I could have handled this situation.”
Thatcher folded his arms like a sullen child. He stared out the window and considered Dorian’s words. He was probably right, but Thatcher wasn't going to admit it.
“Can you fill the rest of us in?” Whitley asked.
“My parents died in a house fire that I started. It was my birthday. I was so upset, and when they showed up in my room with cake, the candle was so enticing. It was the first time I ever manipulated fire. My dad burned to death. I can remember the smell of his burning flesh. My mother almost made it out, but she died getting my stupid stuffed dinosaur,” Thatcher responded, barely holding back the tears he'd contained since his first foster home.
“My father was killed with fire too,” Kerr said quietly. “I saw it before it happened, but I couldn't stop it.”
Thatcher and Kerr locked eyes for a moment, and a feeling of kinship passed between them. Fire was so destructive, but it could also create life. The deaths that affected their lives so deeply had brought them to this day. Without those deaths, they'd never have known who they were, or how their destinies were intertwined.
Chapter Seven:
Nora
“Alright, Tahlia, would you sit down for one minute?” Nora Lowell shook her head at her aunt, many times removed.
“I can't sit down. Dorian called. They're on their way! I haven't seen my girls in five years, and it was only from a distance. I haven't spoken to them since the night I left. Oh God, what if they can't forgive me?” Tahlia was thousands of years older than Nora, but she always thought it was amazing she looked like she was only thirty. Her long blond hair surrounded her in thick waves, and her round face was free of wrinkles.
Nora took her aunt by her narrow shoulders and turned her until they were face to face. “They will. It may take some time, but they will understand.”
She watched as Tahlia wiped the tears from her cheeks. When she saw Tahlia's moment of insanity had passed, she plopped down in her favorite chair in the library.
Nora sat in quiet contemplation. Everything was about to change. The home she had made with the Old Immortals was about to become home to four others like her. The more she thought about what was coming, the more she found herself feeling apprehensive about meeting the other Evolved. She wasn't sure how they would feel about her.
She was raised by her many times great grandfather, Dorian. She grew up knowing about her roots and the truth about her history. She had begun using her abilities at such a young age, and they'd become part of her. But the others were either just learning about it all, or had only begun to learn the extent of their power.
She was especially worried about her potential relationship with Hadley and Whitley. She had gotten to be with their mother since she was eight, but they only got to be with her for five years. Nora had always wanted to meet them because she knew they held such a special place in Tahlia's heart. Since Tahlia had been the only mother figure she'd ever known, she always thought of the twins as her sisters.
Until today, all the stories about the Old Immortals had been at the back of her mind. It was part of her, but it wasn't who she was. Aside from her abilities, she was a completely normal young woman. She had gone to school, but was a few grades ahead of other kids her age. She graduated high school at sixteen, and completed her college education the previous May. Until a few months ago, she was wondering if she should just move out and start her own life. Now that the other Evolved were coming here, she knew her past was going to become an integral part of her present.
She leaned her head against the oversized micro-suede chair, and thought about all the moments that brought her to this day. Her parents had died in a car accident when she was barely a year old, and she didn't have a single memory of them. The police reports and newspaper articles all said it was an accident—an icy road at night. Anyone could lose control of their vehicle. But she knew it was actually her uncles, Silas and Absalom, who were responsible. They had killed so many, and they hadn't realized that by destroying their bloodline, they were actually creating the force that would be their demise.
Through the years, she had grown to understand the journey her ancestors had traveled. She had spent many hours listening to stories about the people and places they molded. Nora was terrified about her part in this process. Her love for Dorian, Romulus, and Tahlia was so strong the thought of losing them was physically painful. Knowing the legacy she and the other Evolved would be bringing to an end was the hardest part of all.
She stared listlessly around the room; Dorian had an incredible library. There were hundreds of books about the Old Immortals. Most of them were written about the myths people had come to believe about the various identities they had through the years. The myths that interested her most were the ones that described the coming of the New Era. Knowing the important role she and the other Evolved would play in the coming months and years caused a knot to form in her stomach. There was only one book off limits to her. The leather-bound book of prophecies. The cover was worn, but the symbol on the front was there. A pentagon divided into fourths, each with its own design, and a three part circle in the middle. The symbols had always intrigued her. There was a shield with the face of a lion, a single flame, a heart, and a symbol that looked like a roman numeral two. She wasn't allowed to read it. Dorian said she had to receive her prophecy with the other Evolved, but she'd seen it many times.
Silas and Absalom were formidable enemies. They had ruthlessly murdered thousands of their descendants and the descendants of their brethren. Each time they murdered one of their own, they grew more powerful, and lost part of who they were created to be. From everything Nora read in Dorian's library, she figured out only the Evolved could stop them. Thatcher had unknowingly proven that when he dealt with Caprice.
“What do you think they're like?” she asked Tahlia.
“Who? My girls?” Tahlia was clearly in her own world.
“No. Well, yes. I mean the other Evolved. Do you think they'll like me? Do you think they'll be willing to work together in this?” Nora looked hopefully at her aunt.
“Well, the fact that they accompanied Doria
n here on their own speaks for itself. If they didn't find truth in his words, they wouldn't be on their way here now. Don't worry, Nora, they will love you just like we do.” Tahlia smiled.
Nora sighed and repositioned herself in her chair. The more she thought about it, the more her confidence grew. Tahlia was right; they wouldn't be coming if they weren't ready. And she knew now more than ever they needed to be ready.
Silas was furious about losing Caprice, as they knew he would be. He had been with her for too many lifetimes to count. Nora knew he would not let this go. Silas would look at what Thatcher did as yet another reason why they should wipe out all of the Evolved.
Footsteps approached on the polished oak floor. Nora turned to see Romulus wearing his khaki-colored trench coat. He carried his brief case and pulled his suitcase behind him. When he saw Tahlia and Nora, a smile broke across his face.
“Welcome home, Uncle Romulus!” Nora sang out as she ran to hug her teddy bear of an uncle, and her spirits lifted instantly.
“I'm glad I didn't miss their arrival. Dorian sent me a text to let me know they were coming. He asked that we all be here. It's a good thing I was already on the flight home, otherwise he would have been out of luck!” Romulus shook his head and chuckled.
Nora loved Romulus. He was a big man and quite intimidating, but he was the sweetest man she'd ever met. His dark brown hair and deep blue eyes combined with his naturally tan skin gave him an exotic look that made it difficult to determine his ancestry. His wife was the first virgin sacrifice delivered to the temple. He had fallen in love with her the moment he saw her. The story was very sweet.