by X, Alice
The Hunted
The Fifth Force Series
Book One
Alice X
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Prologue
Ava liked to imagine that the scratches carved into the walls of her austere prison were messages from all those who had come before her. She would stare at the confused scribbles, the angry slashes, the painful stabs and try to pick apart their meaning. At times, when she concentrated intensely, she thought she perceived some understanding of the senseless scramble of dents and bruises. There were even times when she saw faces hidden in them. Yet, more often than not, Ava would blink, and the walls would stare back at her, nonsensical and random.
After the first week, however, there was one face that Ava could picture with perfect clarity. It was the only face she had set eyes on in twenty-four days. She had committed it to memory, every little detail, from the straightness of his nose to the fullness of his upper lip to the prominent square of his jaw. His eyes were a bright ceaseless blue; they set a stark contrast against the darkness of his hair. He had a scar on the right side of his face just beneath his eye. It was pale silver and shaped like a half-hearted crescent moon.
Ava might have thought he was beautiful if his face didn’t represent her doom.
Chapter 1
“Wake up.”
Ava stirred on her hard mattress trying to regain the tiny measure of comfort she had fought for half the night. She turned her back to the light so that her face was pressed up against the cold wall and tried to ignore the hollow pain in the pit of her stomach.
“Wake up, Ms. Edwards.”
Ava ignored him, but she knew it was futile. Their meetings had taken on the guise of a ritual, and, despite knowing what was coming next, she still fought against it. She counted down, and right on cue, bright white light blasted into her little holding room. It was the kind of piercing brightness you could see through your eyelids. Ava cringed against it, but sleep had already abandoned her. She heard the sound of the door shutting and the scrape of the chair as he settled into it. With a heavy head Ava forced herself upright, waiting for the light to stop hurting.
“Slept well?” he asked casually.
Ava couldn’t even glare at him. “I did not.”
“I gave you four full hours of sleep this time,” he said.
That surprised her. “Four hours?”
“I promised you, didn’t I?”
“It didn’t feel like it,” she said bitterly.
“How does seven hours sound?”
Ava’s eyes were adjusting quickly. When she turned her head to the side, she could see the broad shoulders and intimidating height of his silhouette.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not drinking any more of the serum.”
“The serum will help you,” he said reassuringly.
“You mean it will make me weak,” Ava spat.
He sighed, as though her words were a personal insult. “We’re doing all this to help you.”
“You’re doing this because, like all people with inferior intellect, you’re scared of what you don’t understand.”
Ava blinked and turned her face to his. His blue eyes were trained on hers in a mixture of impassivity and curiosity.
“I understand,” he said coolly.
“If that were true, witch hunter, you wouldn’t be hunting us; you wouldn’t be rounding us up like lambs for slaughter.”
He smiled, but his eyes were cold and reserved. The scar under his right eye seemed to blink of its own accord. “No one is slaughtering anyone. We’re not trying to kill your kind. We mean you no harm. We’re only trying to preserve the natural order of things. We’re trying to keep the balance.”
“By destroying a part of who we are,” Ava said her voice rising.
“By making you the same as everyone else,” he said calmly. “By removing the thing that makes you dangerous.”
Ava sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “We are not dangerous.”
“No?” he asked raising his eyebrows. “What about the incident in Boston? I’m sure you heard about it. One of your kind brought a building down on eleven civilians.”
“He was only fifteen,” Ava said defensively. “He didn’t mean to hurt anyone. He lost control.”
“Proving another point,” he said interrupting. “Your kind is unpredictable.”
“It might not have happened at all if he wasn’t being bullied in school,” Ava said.
“Everybody gets bullied in school.”
“Yes, but because of his magic and his age sometimes it’s hard to control.”
“Precisely,” he said triumphantly. “But if we were to remove his magic… if we Cleansed him, then he wouldn’t have to control anything. He’d be a normal kid who has to deal with bullying in the normal ways; the way every other teenager does.”
“You can’t catch us all,” Ava said staring him dead in the eye. “There are too many of us.”
He smiled at her challengingly. “We’ll see.”
At that moment Ava felt a sharp pain in her stomach. She bent over, clenching her muscles involuntarily and inciting a cramp in her left leg.
“Are you alright?”
Ava ignored him and focused on riding out the pain. “What was in that serum?” she asked once the pain passed.
“A mix of things,” he said evasively.
“I’ve had an ache in my gut since yesterday,” Ava said bitterly.
“It’ll pass,” he assured her. “Your body’s just getting used to it. You won’t feel a thing once you take the second dose.”
“I am not taking a second dose,” Ava said decisively.
“Ava,” he said softly as though he had known her for years. “Please listen to me. If you consent willingly, it will be so much easier. The sooner it’s done, the sooner you can reunite with your family.”
Ava’s head snapped up. “What do you know about my family?”
His eyes betrayed nothing. “Only that it is possible to reunite you with them.”
“Do… do you have them?”
He smiled.
Ava moved her hand up in an old gesture; one that she had learned quickly would not serve her in this underground camp. Her hand dropped instantly as she remembered that her magic would not work anymore, not here.
“It must be difficult… not to have your abilities.”
Ava looked down, refusing to engage. He walked right up to her bed and sat down on the edge of it. Ava cringed away, but that didn’t seem to bother him.
“Tell me, what would you have done to me if I wasn’t wearing this?” He fished out a small metal pendant from the inside of his shirt. On its face was a little burst of fire that was tinged a burnt umber. Ava gazed at it for only a second before she turned away.
“Would you have used your ability to throw me against the wall?” he went on. “Or, perhaps you would have squeezed the air right out of my lungs. I’ve heard that’s possible for some of your kind.”
Ava said nothing, but she could feel the blue-eyed burn of his gaze still on her.
“Do you see Ava?” he asked softly. “Do you see why no one should have that power? It’s not right.”
Ava shook her head at him. “We have existed since the dawn of time. We have as much right to live as you do.”
“It’s you who don’t understand,” he said. “We mean no threat to your lives.”
“Just our ability?”
“Yes.”
“Some wou
ld argue they’re the same thing.”
“Very philosophical,” he said bracingly. “But I disagree.”
Ava leaned against the cool wall, inching as far away from him as she could manage.
“I know you think you’re on some sacred mission,” Ava said earnestly. “I know you think you’re doing the right thing. But you’re just doing what some egomaniacal tyrant has brainwashed you into thinking is the right thing. You’re not bringing balance to humanity. You’re ripping apart families and destroying half of who they are.”
He looked down in a manner that was almost contrite. Ava noticed that the blue of his eyes became more subdued, almost pale.
“I am sorry about your mother.”
“Don’t talk about her.”
“It was not meant to happen that way.”
“Get out of my face, you bastard,” Ava spat.
To her surprise he rose and walked towards the door. She thought he would go silently, but at the threshold he turned his head to the side while his body remained straight and angular. She could see the perfect lines of his profile as though they had been carved from stone.
“I thought you might like to know,” he said quietly. “I have a name – its Thomas.”
Nine Weeks Ago
“Please, Ava?”
Ava shook her head in exasperation. “Harry, you know the rules.”
“It’s my birthday,” he pleaded.
“Yes, and need I remind you that you’re turning fifteen, not five?” Ava teased.
“Aw, come on,” Harry said. “It’s the least you can do.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning you got Dad’s awesome magical genes, and I got Mum’s boring normal ones.”
“I’m sure Mum will appreciate that,” Ava said with a smile. “Alright then. But it’ll have to be a fast one.”
Harry nodded vigorously and prepared himself. Ava smiled internally as she took in Harry’s excitement. It transformed his face and turned him into the cherub-faced five-year-old, who used to follow her around like a puppy. He still had some of the old traits — the rosy cheeks, the big brown eyes and the soft blonde hair that had refused to darken with age. But he had changed too; more than Ava liked to admit.
He had chopped off his blonde curls for a ‘manlier’ look, as he liked to call it, and he had gained several inches in height almost over night. He was starting to look less like her baby brother and more and more like a man every single day. It made Ava feel nostalgic, which was why she couldn’t turn down his request now. It reminded her of the boy he used to be.
Ava concentrated hard and readied her hands. She focused on her brother and using the force of her mind, she lifted him into the air. Gritting her teeth against the force of exertion, she spun him around their garden. Harry spread his hands as though they were wings and shut his eyes as his face broke out into a massive blissful smile.
“Ava!”
With a gasp Ava’s hands dropped and Harry spun off course and landed on the ground with a dull thud and a loud moan.
“Oh, God,” Ava said as she ran over to where he lay. “Harry, are you okay?”
Harry laughed freely. “That was freaking awesome.”
Ava helped him up while simultaneously trying to avoid her father’s reproachful glare. Gregory Edwards was not a particularly tall man, but there was something about him that made him appear taller than he actually was. His silver hair shone under the subdued sunlight as he came forward.
“I can’t believe the both of you,” he said, his dark eyes flashing. “I thought the rules were clear.”
“They are Dad,” Ava said quickly. “It was just a one-time thing.”
“For my birthday,” Harry put in.
“Ava,” Gregory said chidingly. “You’re old enough to know better.”
“Aw, Dad don’t blame Ava,” Harry said quickly. “I’m the one who convinced her.”
“Oh, I have no doubt,” Gregory replied. “Now get inside.”
Harry did as he was told, but Ava stayed behind. “I’m sorry, Dad,” she said. “I just didn’t want to disappoint him.”
“Things are getting more and more dangerous,” Gregory said seriously. “Witch hunters are everywhere, and we have no real means of protection. We can’t afford to be careless.”
“What about the police?”
Gregory snorted. “The police have been known to turn a blind eye just as often as they have intervened. The government is split, just like the country, and everyone has ulterior motives and hidden agendas. We can’t look to them for help.”
“There is always the Akkadian Society.”
Gregory’s eyes grew serious. “The only people we can count on are ourselves.”
Ava sighed. “Dad, don’t you think we’re doing it wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
Ava threw up her hands in frustration. “We’re sitting here in the middle of the suburbs pretending like we’re normal, and we’re not. The world is at war, and it’s at war with our kind. Shouldn’t we be doing something to help?”
“Don’t get caught up in that kind of thinking, Ava,” Gregory said urgently. “The need to fight back cloaks itself in honor and conscience, but, in the end it’s just endless, pointless fighting. And I’ll be damned if I let this family be a part of it.”
Ava dropped it; she knew too well her father’s thoughts on the subject. “Okay, Dad,” she said. “This won’t happen again.”
“Good girl,” Gregory replied with a small smile. “Now let’s go inside and celebrate your brother’s birthday.”
As they walked inside, Ava heard the sound of the television in the living room. Her mother’s usual quiet, clear voice sharpened in urgency. “Gregory!”
Ava and Gregory hurried into the living room.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Joseph Griggs has just issued a public statement,” Lillian said without looking away from the screen. Harry was standing next to her, his face no longer smiling and somehow less boyish.
“What did he say?”
“They’re about to replay it,” Lillian replied.
Lillian was the most patient member of the family, and that was reflected in her face. Ava had inherited most of her features from her mother. From the light hazel eyes to the silky brown hair, she was her mother’s double. The one thing that set them apart was the dark eyebrows that Ava had inherited from her father, along with his sometimes fiery temperament. Ava could feel her mother’s tension, as she kept her eyes trained on the television.
The screen cut to black for a second, and then the image of a man sitting in front of a white screen wearing army pants and a pullover appeared. His arms were large and well-muscled; his eyes were dark with tiny pinpricks of light at their center. There were shadows playing on the smooth, shiny surface of his scalp.
“I know the public has been led to believe that my men and I are to be feared. The word ‘terrorist’ has been used on several occasions. Do not believe this propaganda. We are not terrorists. We do not believe in senseless murder. We believe only in self-defense. More importantly, we believe in restoring balance to a world that has been thrown off center. No man should have supernatural ability; no man should stand above the rest in that regard. Our process of Cleansing can remove that abnormal ability from a witch’s blood with no harm or side effects to the witch. It is safe, and it is for the greater good.”
“We have made many strides in the right direction. There have been many witches who have come forward of their own volition to undergo the process of Cleansing. These judicious few understand that their abilities were never meant for this world. They just want to lead a normal life like everyone else.”
“But our cause and our future are being hindered by a man who believes he is superior to us. Brad Doherty is a witch who is amassing an army. Think what that will mean for us. We are only human; we cannot stand against an army of supernatural beings. If he succeeds in his plan, there will be pain, suff
ering and death. We will be looking at the graves of our husbands and our wives, of our children and our friends. We stand to lose our families and our autonomy. That is what the future looks like if Brad Doherty is not stopped. And we must stop him. It is the only way to preserve our freedom.”
The screen cut back to a row of suited journalists as they threw Joseph Griggs’s words back and forth. Lillian turned off the television.
“What does this mean?” Ava asked breaking the silence.
“It means that Griggs has just thrown down the gauntlet,” Gregory replied emotionlessly. “It means he’s gearing up for this underground war to escalate.”
“Doherty can take him,” Harry said with admiration in his voice.
Gregory looked at him sharply. “Doherty is no hero.”
“He’s a freedom fighter,” Harry said firmly.
“Don’t buy into that nonsense boy,” Gregory said. “He’s just another rebel, who has seen fit to take matters into his own hands. In my mind, he’s no better than Joseph Griggs.”
Harry looked like he was going to say something else, but Ava caught his eye and shook her head. He fell silent and swallowed his words. Ava pictured Griggs sitting in his chair against the purity of a white backdrop. He didn’t look like a man in his fifties.
He looked determined and deadly.
Chapter 2
Ava was pacing when Thomas entered her holding room. She was so deep in thought that she didn’t even hear him. She turned around and walked straight into him.
“Dear, God,” she exclaimed.
He steadied her with his arms outstretched. Ava immediately shook him off.
“You look like you’re going some place,” Thomas said with a smile.
“Thanks to you I won’t be going anywhere any time soon.”
Thomas closed the door behind him and took his usual seat, while Ava continued to pace.
“Are you alright?” Thomas asked conversationally. “You seem antsy.”
“That’s because I’ve spent the last twenty something days in this cell.”