Catharsis (Book 2): Catalyst

by Campbell, D. Andrew

  "So the fourth guy hasn't talked yet?" I ask in a small voice looking for Ren's bright side in all of this.

  "Nope. Not as of yet, but then again it's only been a few hours. We'll see what happens once he has a chat with his cartel-financed lawyer. But at least he didn't sing to the police. As far as they're concerned it was a shootout with a rival gang. You still don’t exist anywhere in their records."

  "Thanks, but I still should have found a way of stopping him. I don't like leaving people behind who can identify me. That's going to come back to haunt me, Ren. It already spooks me that Chadwick knows exactly what I look like and who I am. Speaking of which..."

  "I was getting to him," he continues in his deep voice. "That's still going to take some digging as they're just now swarming the place with emergency vehicles. It may be days before we know exactly what went down in there."

  "I know what went down in there, Renny," I interrupt him. "Remember? I was there. He set that house up as a perfect death trap for me, and then let me light the fuse all by myself." I think back to that picture I pulled off the wall with the fishing line attached to it. "Literally."

  "Yes. That was devious, and you fell right into it." He says it gently as if he's talking to a small child, and I turn back to glare at him. "But you also survived it, and that means he isn't as good as he thought. He thinks he knows who and what you are, but he doesn't really know. He can't know, because we don't even really know. We can only guess."

  He pauses and looks back at his computer monitors for a moment, and I imagine he would much prefer to be over with them rather than speaking to me face to face. We may be friends, but I believe on some level my existence still creeps him out. And talking about who, or what, I am just shines a large vibrant black light on the fluorescent elephant in the room. It’s a topic that is bound to make him uncomfortable.

  "But we can use that to our advantage," he continues without looking away from the glowing monitors. "Right now he has to believe you're dead. It'll be a few days before they get through the rubble and remains and discover the lack of bodies." He stops, closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Or at least I hope there aren't any bodies. Who knows with this man?

  "I'll use the next few days to track his whereabouts, and we'll get another go at him. He won't be expecting it, and you'll be more prepared for whatever defenses he sets up. We'll have the advantage this time around."

  I watch as he smiles, and I can tell he is envisioning our victory against this evil. I like it. But I can't do it. Not after being in that house tonight and almost dying. For once I will be the voice of caution instead of him.

  "No, Renny," I say softly knowing I will be disappointing him. "I'm not going after him in a few days."

  Watching his face, I let my words sink in and wait. I know it isn't what he wants to hear, and the confusion on his face reinforces my thoughts.

  "What? What do you mean, Cat?" He asks and finally turns to stare me in the eyes. "You want to wait longer and give him time to be prepared? If this attack was rough, then the next one will be even worse. We don't want to wait until he's figured out you're alive and built up his defenses even more. The sooner the better. Trust me."

  "No, Renny, you don't understand." I sigh and look down not wanting to meet his gaze while I say the next words. I don't need him to compound the shame I'm already feeling. "I'm not going after Chadwick...ever. I'm done with him. He's better than me. Just knowing I'm out there will hopefully be enough to keep him from doing what he did before. He couldn't kill me, and that will have to be what haunts him. But it won't be me hunting him down."

  I look up just enough to see him staring at me and frowning, but he doesn't say anything. He just takes me in with his large, brown eyes. "I know I've always been the reckless one in the past, but being in that house tonight changed things. I realized as I was running from that fire that I don't want to die anymore. Do you understand that? For the first time since all this began, I'm not actively looking for death. And when that house spit me out against a brick wall, I knew that pursuing Chadwick meant Death. Capital "D" death. I won't survive another confrontation with that man, Renny. Even if I live through it, he will find a way to kill a part of me. His is a level of evil I'm just not ready to face. I can't do it."

  Finally, I lift my head up the rest of the way and stare at him. I'm not quite defiant, but I want him to see the strength in my words. I'm ashamed of not going after Chadwick while knowing what kind of person he is, but I don't think it makes me weak. It makes me smart. I know my own boundaries, and he is well outside of them. "Please don't make me go after him, Pater," I say, and he flinches at my use of his real name. I need him to understand how serious I am about this. "I will if you ask me to. If you tell me it's the right thing to do. If you say it is what is required to make the world a better place. But I'm asking you to not say those words. For me."

  I continue to stare at him until he finally breaks a smile and shakes his head. "Ok, Catarina. I agree with you. But it does scare me that it took a near-death experience to put some caution and maturity into you. I'll accept the new you and your wishes."

  We just smile at each other for a few seconds and let the moment pass, before he says, "So we don't pursue Chadwick for the greater good of the world. Then what are we going to do next?"

  "Well, I've been thinking about that," I say straightening myself up in my chair. "I haven't wanted to practice or hone my skills in my free time as I've been kinda, subconsciously I think, hoping for a Glorious Death in battle. But I don't want to die anymore. And the best way keep that from happening is for me to get better at what I do. If the cartel is going to send assassins and professional hitters at me, then I need to be better than them. And I need to be better than all of them combined since I don’t know how many of them I might be facing at once."

  "So that means?" He asks me and his grin gets even bigger.

  "So that means we start training, and I'll show the drug kingpins out there what they really have to be afraid of." I stand up and shake out my body to loosen my limbs. "So Master Renfield, what's first for your little Padawan?" I ask and smile my most devilish grin.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Chadwick Morrin has fallen off the face of the earth for all we can tell. As the next several weeks go by without any record of him showing up anywhere in the world, Ren becomes convinced that he had backup identities planned out that he is now currently using. No bodies were found in the aftermath of the explosion (Thanks goodness for small miracles! Even his neighbors were gone that evening, although after doing some digging, Ren discovered their absences weren't an accident. Chadwick was either trying to keep them safe, or he might have had more sinister ideas. For now we'll never know.), so that means we know he is still alive but he also now knows that I'm still alive and well. I'm hoping that his knowledge of my existence will keep him looking over his shoulder, but it's much more likely that the opposite will happen.

  The good news is that with Chadwick gone and no way of tracking him (With the house being destroyed and those rogue scents still lingering in the air, I doubt I would ever get a clean trail. Aside from him just showing up one day and waving at me, he's as good as untraceable.), I now have no guilt over my decision. I couldn't go after him even if I wanted to. So that means I have to find an alternative for my future plans. And getting stronger and better at what I do is as solid a plan as I can come up with.

  A thought that's been bothering me since my encounter with his house of horror finally gets the better of me, and I take advantage of one of our breaks in training to broach the topic with Ren.

  "So that night," I begin without going into more detail. None is needed. Right now there is only one 'that night' for us to think about. "After I had attacked those three guys in the Cadillac, why do you think my energy ran out so quickly? And not just then, either. I've noticed the last several weeks that I'm needing to 'snack' more often than before. Am I growing immune or something?"

&nb
sp; Now I know that Renny is far from an expert on my 'condition', but he is the absolute smartest person I know. Plus if I don't know something right now, I really only have one other person to bounce ideas off of so I might as well take advantage of it.

  He chews a bite of his granola bar for several seconds and stares at his monitors in thought before replying (I've noticed he stares at his computer displays quite often whenever he thinks. Or he just needs a place to look that isn't a bare wall. I think those fluorescent screens are his "happy place".). "I have a theory," he says after several moments of chewing, but he doesn't continue.

  I try to wait as patiently as I can, but when he doesn't say anything more I give up. "Ok, can I hear it?" I ask with only a hint of exasperation. I think he enjoys pushing my buttons sometimes. I guess everyone needs a hobby.

  "Well, you are definitely using your energy more quickly than in the past, but I don't think you're building an immunity. I think your body is just becoming more comfortable with your abilities. You tap into them more easily, and rely on them more heavily for everyday actions. In the past you seemed to have to consciously stop and 'turn on' your different senses. Now? I notice you inhaling and 'tasting' the air all the time. Not only when hunting, but when you are just in the room sitting around. You are always 'on' and using your abilities unlike before when you saved them for special occasions. So you dip into that energy pool more frequently. As you become more proficient at doing what you do, I think you will need to feed more often to keep your energy up."

  "Okay, that makes sense," I say nodding my head.

  "And it's the same thing with that night," he continues. "You've told me that you had to willfully push all thought about the sounds and smells surrounding you out of your head. In a way, you were 'using your abilities' by forcing them to not work. It had to be exhausting, and your body chewed up resources to keep you at full power. And then there was that explosion that should have killed you."

  He stops when he sees me flinch at his word choice, realizes what he said and corrects himself. "I mean it could have killed you. Sorry. It's still just amazing that you were able to do what you did."

  "But it wasn't as good as the other times I've done it," I tell him. "I mean I've stopped time before without any problem. I'm not always conscious of it, but I've done it. And I've never lost control of it like that. It almost got me killed."

  "No," he corrects me. "It saved your life." He holds up a hand to quiet me before I can argue the point with him. "Consider what happened, Cat. This wasn't like the previous times you've told me about. Given, I'm sure I don't know about every time you've done it, but I'm pretty sure you can recall every single event with perfect clarity. In how many of those previous attempts were you standing still or only moving a little bit to adjust your body? And in how many were you sprinting full speed and trying to push your strength to its limits and focus on your abilities all at the same time?" He stops and watches me as I scan my memory and reluctantly come to an agreement with him.

  "Exactly. Your abilities didn't fail you that night Cat; they exceeded every possible expectation. According to my best calculations, from the moment you pulled that picture off the wall to the moment you were outside smashed against those bricks was less than one second. Look at how much distance you covered and what you accomplished in that one second. Yes, you should be dead. No living person should have been able to survive that. But you did. And it took every bit of energy you had in you to make that happen."

  He lets that sink in for a moment before picking up the conversation. "And on top of it all, your body managed to heal itself from third degree burns and broken bones. I'm actually a bit surprised you didn't wake up in that rubble as a delirious, raving lunatic bent on attacking the first breathing human you could find. It says a lot about your abilities that you made it back here in one piece. Think about it."

  Once again Ren has proven why he is not only a great friend, but also invaluable to me right now. His way of seeing things has not only helped cheer me up, but it's also put a more positive light on what I'm going through. I'd really been afraid that I was slipping and getting worse at this, but he's right. I'm not. A year ago Chadwick's trap would have killed me. I may not be ready for him now, but I will be someday.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  "You sound happier, Kitty!" My sister's peppy voice makes me smile regardless of how much I resist it. Even when she calls me her new and annoying pet nickname. I guess just calling me "Catarina" or "Cat" like every other normal person I’ve known doesn't fit with my sister's gregarious view of life. She had to come up with something that only she'll ever call me, and of course it had to be something irritating.

  "Please don't call me Kitty anymore," I say as grumpily as I can manage. "You know that's not my name, Leyna." I hear a muffled snort from across the room, and look up in time to see Ren mouth the word 'kitty?' to me and shake his head. Great, I think. There's no way that won't come back to haunt me.

  "Yeah, yeah, anyway," she says airily dismissing my complaint as easily as one would an annoying child asking for a second cookie. "I'm glad you're calling more often lately, and it's been nice hearing you not sound so morose on the phone."

  Morose? I wonder quietly to myself. Where did that come from?

  "Did you like that?" She asks without missing a beat. "We learned it in class the other day when we were reading Poe, and I really liked it. I heard it and immediately thought of you."

  "Gee, thanks, sis," I tell her and try to make each word sound as morose as I possibly can.

  "You're welcome," she bubbles easily swatting away my sarcasm. "But not lately, and that's my point. You're almost, and dare I say it, chipper. I mean you're not 'normal person' happy or anything, but you are at least several ranks higher than before. And I'll take all I can get. I mean I didn't want to say anything before, but our conversations were starting to depress me a little."

  "Listen, Leyna," I begin and cut her off once she stops for a breath. "I know you have good intentions and all, but still..."

  Leyna jumps right back into the conversation without the courtesy of waiting for me to take a breath. "Relax Kitty, I'm just yanking your chain. I'm just excited right now, and I'm happy I don't have to worry about carrying the mood for both of us."

  I love my sister, but her personality can wear me out at times. Although I do have to agree with her about my mood recently. For over a month now I haven't gone out on a single run aside from the occasional feeding to keep my energy up. And those are easy and stress free. I've gotten much better about how I choose targets and then only taking the minimum amount from them to keep their body from noticing the loss. Plus Ren has been giving me challenges to work on when I'm out so that my training doesn't stop. Now that I'm working on getting better at what I do and not just frenetically pushing myself forward in an attempt to burn out, I am noticing how undisciplined I was before. With Ren's guidance I have gotten faster and more efficient - both in my feedings and in my fighting. And it feels good. Not quite to the let's-take-on-Chadwick-in-a-battle-to-the-death kind of way, but in a soon-I-will-take-out-a-drug-kingpin way. And it should bother me that I think-

  "Kitty!" My sister yells into the phone and breaks my train of thought with one crisp word. "Are you tuning me out again? What's the point of us talking if you aren't going to listen to me when I tell you the exciting news?"

  "I'm sorry Ley-ley," I say using her nickname from when we were kids in an attempt to distract her. "Ren was talking to me. I blame him." The object of my fabricated charge doesn't even bother to turn around and confront me on my lie. He just shakes his head and continues tapping away at his keyboard. I smile and know he'll make me pay for that one, too. He's going to keep me busy tonight with drills and practice.

  "Uh huh," she says clearly not buying my excuse. "From what you've said before, Ren's nearly mute. There's no way he was interrupting me. Good try, sis."

  Across the room, Ren nods his head in affirmation, and it makes me
wonder how he knows what my sister said. Is he listening to my calls, or is he developing the same hearing I have? Or is he just smart and knew what would come next? Sometimes that man is more of a mystery than I am.

  "What were you saying about being excited, Leyna?" I ask in an attempt to distract all parties involved and move the topic away from my inability to focus when my sister blathers on and on.

  "Well, you know how I've been refusing to date any guys and tie myself down this early and how boys aren't worth it and all?" She says it all in one breath eager to move on, and I'm tempted to interject with 'and the fact that dad won't let you go on dates yet because you're too young' but I decide to bite my tongue this time.

  Instead I just give her a curious, "Yes?"

  "Well," she bubbles. "I think I may have found one that's worth going after. I don't know for sure yet, and I don't want to jinx it by saying too much, but he is definitely winning me over. He's really sweet and nice and I think Mom and Dad will like him when they meet him. But that might not be for a while."

  "He sounds like a good guy," I tell her. Although I'm sure she could have used that description for half the guys in the school. It was pathetically vague and 'schoolgirly'. "What's his name?"

  "Uhm," she stalls for a moment and I can almost hear her thinking on the other end of the phone. "Well, I'm not ready to give out any info yet. Let's just wait and see, ok? I'll tell you more when I decide if he's worth it."

  "That's fine Leyna," I say not wanting to push her while at the same time trying to quash any feeling of jealousy I, myself, might be having. I knew my little sister would eventually go out on dates, but I didn't think it would be before I ever really got to. And now, I'll never get to. That part of my life is over. How can I go on a date when I'm spending my days concentrating on the overthrow of an underground empire? That will make finding common ground or small talk a bit challenging with the average teenaged boy. So, because of that, dating is now a cultural experience that is forever outside my reach.