by Lynne Thomas
*** *** ***
Something is off. I’m getting so used to having my world turned on its head that I don’t for one second question my gut feeling that something isn’t right. I slow down, feeling sick. My stomach clenches, then relaxes, then clenches again. Saliva squirts into the back of my mouth. “Um, guys,” I mumble. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
My voice sounds faint, which it must be as no one looks around. I try to speak again, louder, but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth.
The key here is not to panic.
Blinking against the harsh sunlight, I fight dizziness and start to panic. Raising my hand to my eyes, I try to shield them from the bright white light. Agatha turns and runs towards me. Her mouth is forming words, but I can’t make them out over the loud buzzing noise in my ears. Yep, she’s definitely trying to say something.
Camille.
She isn’t trying to say that, though.
Twirling, I rake the empty horizon. Everything’s so white.
Camille. I am close, Camille.
Impossible.
Sweat breaks out along my upper lip. This can’t be happening. I’m awake, for one, and it’s broad daylight; there’s no way that it can be him. I only found out about being ET’s long lost cousin this morning, it can’t possibly be him.
Except that it is.
The Hunter has arrived.
Remember when I mentioned just a moment ago that I was starting to panic? I was so wrong it’s not true. Real panic is when you go for a dip in the sea and look up to find that you’re too far out. You start to swim back towards the beach, but the sea has you and has no intention of letting go. You paddle faster, but you don’t get anywhere; you’re swimming on the spot against the rip of the current. Your arms and legs burn with effort for a while and then, when you think you can’t stand it anymore, they turn into useless dead-weights and you pray for the burning to come back. No matter how hard you try, you can’t get back to shore. You take in mouthfuls of water, your lungs ache and your head goes under. Your heart races so hard that you think it’s going to explode in your chest; if your lungs don’t burst first. Your hearing is fuzzy, your vision blurs and your mind bombards you with snapshots of important, significant things in your life; your family, your friends, scenes from the odd happy occasion. And to make your last moments on Earth no different than life itself – completely bewildering – you see flashes of useless, unimportant things. Like the green coat hanging, unworn, in your wardrobe at home; the one you insisted your parents buy for your thirteenth birthday. Then comes the blackness and you feel terror crawl across your scalp like a razor blade cutting through skin.
That is what real panic feels like.
I PANIC and try to fight the dizziness. The day becomes brighter as my grip on consciousness slips. The beach is being bleached right in front of me. Agatha and Rhiannon are stark, stretched, silhouettes. I fall to my knees and pitch forward onto the warm sand, jaw clenched, teeth gritted.
I mustn’t faint. Somehow I know that to black out will mean death for us all. The Hunter will pin down where I am and come for me and after he’s got me, he’ll kill them. I really don’t want Rhiannon’s death on my conscience.
Rivulets of sweat run down my spine. Perversely, I shiver in the heat of the midday sun. Flipping over to lie on my back, I stare up at the sky and try to calm down. I need to think and I can’t think when I’m a millisecond away from going insane with fear. How can this be happening so soon?
I can’t focus on anything that will give away our location. No landmarks. Definitely not the sea. Positive that he’s seeing things through my eyes, I scream at Agatha.
“Stay back!”
My voice sounds strange and muffled. I try again. “STAY BACK.” Louder this time – good. “Hunter…see you…stay AWAY.”
Exhausted, I lie still. Then, the sickest thing ever happens: I feel the Hunter’s touch inside my head.
Let me in, let me in, let me in, let mein, letmeinletmeinletmein……………..”
You have no idea, no idea at all, how putrid and disgusting the feeling is. Imagine a spider crawling into your ear while you sleep. When you wake up, you can feel it moving about and you scream and shake your head and stick your finger in to try to get it out, but you can’t. And all the while, it’s still wriggling around inside your ear, with its eight, long, spindly, hairy, legs.
You’re not even close to what I’m feeling.
Fighting the urge to be sick, I squeeze my eyes shut and try to think of something neutral, like the sky.
The sky.
I snap open my eyes and drink it in; the thing that stays the same no matter where you are in a small seaside village. I collect my thoughts and focus on one thing only; deep blue, cloudless sky. Spanning to eternity.
“Blue sky, blue sky, blue sky….” I chant to myself. “Blueskyblueskyskybluebluesky…….”
I giggle. I can’t stop. I can’t stop chanting either, only instead of saying it out loud, it goes round and round in my head.
“Stay away,” I gasp between hysterics. “Hunter is blue, I mean the sky is coming…STAY AWAY!”
Agatha and Rhiannon do as I say, thank God, and stand a short distance away.
I can’t believe how much this hurts. I thrash on the sand, tears running down my cheeks.
“Oh my.” Agatha can’t stand it any longer and steps towards me.
No!
Rhiannon yanks her backwards.
Agatha knocks away Rhiannon’s hand and snarls at the cheerleader. Agatha doesn’t do mad very often, but when she does, it’s a sight to behold.
“Get your hands off me or I will rip your arm from its socket. She’s hurting, she needs help.”
She steps forward and Rhiannon snaps out an arm and holds her back. Agatha narrows her eyes at the cheerleader.
“Rhiannon, don’t try that a third time. I’m warning you.”
“She said to stay back.” Rhiannon nods her head at me. “She said to stay back, so we should stay back. My cousin has fits; you should wait until they’re over and then check that the airway is clear before putting the person in the recovery position. She should be OK as long as her airway doesn’t get blocked.”
Agatha hesitates, her eyes on my squirming body. “I don’t know…”
I can feel the Hunter poking around inside my head. His presence throbs like a pressure headache building behind my eyes. My body starts to fit.
Without warning, the bashrak changes tactics.
Who are the people close by, hmm? Friends of yours are they? Hmm?
I go rigid.
Do you think that they’ll fight before I kill them, hmm? Think that they’ll scream as they die, hmm? We’ll see, we’ll see.
The singsong voice makes me tremble. Through the terror, though, comes hatred. Hot, blind, hatred at this thing burrowing around in my head. I try and turn it on the Hunter.
White-hot pain blooms in my head. My back arches as it travels the length of my body. I hear myself whimper and screw my eyes shut.
Behind my eyelids, I see a purple light.
It grows brighter, twinkling and shimmering with growing strength. The pain in my head eases.
Vistlar, Natook, Carta-Vashta, Vostla Sakiiri, Carta-Javoria.
Hello. Someone’s chanting Clingon at me. Great help.
But, strangely enough, it does help and the pain lessens. My body sags.
As the probing tentacles withdraw, the chanting grows distant.
“Crin?” I don’t want to be left alone again. “CRIN!”
Nothing.
He’s mad at me! He’s mad because of Agatha and Rhiannon. Because I said I wouldn’t involve anyone else.
For God’s sake, I’m not Wonder Woman. I can’t do this thing alone.
I lay on the beach, exhausted. A single tear escapes the corner of my eye and runs down the side of my face.
“Jelly, are you alright?” Agatha’s face is white. “What happened? You scared me to
death.”
I try to smile, but it’s hard work and I’m running on empty. I can’t help it; I feel like I’ve been abandoned. Again.
“I’m OK. Help me up.”
I take Agatha’s hand and haul myself onto quivering legs.
“That,” I say in a very small voice that I don’t recognise as my own, “is an experience that I don’t want twice over.”
“What happened?”
I shrug, though my lips tremble and I can’t seem to stop my teeth from chattering.
“Hunter. Mental probe. Lots of pain.”
“Ah. You’ve got a brain tumour. Now I understand”
Agatha lets go of my arm and turns on Rhiannon so quickly that I almost lose my balance and fall back onto the sand, which would be a real slapstick comedy gem.
Hey, I’m hanging on by a thread here; you have to find a silver lining somewhere.
“Right, Miss ‘look at me, I can wave a ball of coloured tinsel in the air, can I have a gold star and your undying affection?’ -
“Agatha –
“NO, Jay”. Agatha flicks her hand at Rhiannon. “She shouldn’t be here. She should go.”
“Fine by me!” Rhiannon turns on her heel. I grab her by the wrist.
“Rhiannon’s with us for the day. Sorry, Agatha, but it can’t be helped. She’s not going anywhere.”
Agatha scowls at Rhiannon and she scowls right back.
I sigh.
“Let’s get out of here before the Hunter comes back.”
“Fine,” says Agatha.
“Doubly fine,” says Rhiannon.
Give me strength.
*** *** ***
We walk along the path to Bay’s Head in silence. I can feel the resentment between Agatha and Rhiannon and see the dirty looks. Half way there and the tension becomes too much for my still-fragile state. I have to break it.
I check my watch.
“Once we get to the Head, we’ve got around two hours before we get stranded. In that time, I need to see what I can do. If I can’t develop some skills that can help me dodge the Hunter, I’m in big trouble. Suggestions are welcome.” I glance at Rhiannon. “Helpful suggestions are welcome.”
“Well,” Agatha says. “You can run and you seem to be able to read thoughts –
“I’m sure that Humphrey’s fine, Ag.”
She blushes. “OK, so you can read thoughts. What about flying?”
Silence.
“Too hard?”
I pull a face. “No, Agatha. Should be a walk in the park. What do you think?”
Agatha reconsiders.
“Telekinesis!” The word bursts from her like an explosion of energy. Rhiannon jumps. I jump higher (see, I’m half way to flying already).
“You have got to be kidding me?”
Agatha shakes her head.
“Oh, sure,” scoffs Rhiannon. “And then maybe she can try shooting lasers from her eyes.”
“Thanks,” I sigh. “That’s a big help.”
“You’re welcome,” Rhiannon says, a huge smile on her face.
Agatha takes me by the hand and drags me towards the Head.
“Let’s get out of sight so we can start.”
“Why?” chirps Rhiannon, who seems to be enjoying herself all of a sudden. “So some passing shopper doesn’t glimpse Jelly running around the beach covered in seaweed, pretending to be an alien? We’re on an island, you defect. Who’s gonna see us?”
“ENOUGH!”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. In a quieter, calmer voice, I say,
“Let’s just get there and try and figure this thing out, alright?”
Because any more of this and the alien’s going to lose her temper and seeing how the alien doesn’t know what she’s capable of, that would be bad.
Some of what I was thinking must show on my face because when I open my eyes, Agatha and Rhiannon are walking very quickly towards the island.
Chapter Ten
We trudge into the shelter of a small ring of trees.
“Right,” Agatha is all enthusiasm. “Let’s sit in a circle. We’ll put the thing that Jay’s trying to levitate in the centre and we’ll all concentrate on lifting it.” She shrugs. “Maybe it’ll help. We should start with something small…” she scurries off, scanning the ground.
Rhiannon shakes her head. “I can’t believe you people are for real. She actually believes you, doesn’t she?”
I ignore her. She’ll see soon enough, fingers crossed.
Agatha runs back into the clearing, her arms filled with treasures.
“Look what I’ve found,” breathless, she deposits her find on the ground.
“Nice junk, loser.”
Agatha ignores her and picks up a tin can. “Exhibit A: an empty can. This is the lightest of the lot, so this is what we’ll start with.”
Placing it back onto the ground, she grabs another item.
“Exhibit B: driftwood.” She weighs it in her hands. “This is surprisingly light, and it’s bigger than the can, so this can go next. Then this funny shaped rock,” she pauses, “and then…me.”
“HA!”
Seeing that Agatha is serious, I sober, a little bit.
“What are you saying; that I’m supposed to go from an empty can to a fully fledged human being in three easy steps?” I shake my head. “Never going to happen.”
Agatha stares at me with a fixed expression. The one that doesn’t budge, just like her. “You said that you had to do this thing fast, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t be thorough. There’s no point stopping half way.”
“But –
“NO,” Agatha isn’t going to be shaken on this one. “You levitate the can first, then the wood, the rock, and me. We’re wasting time.” She turns to Rhiannon. “Sit down.”
I watch with a smile as Rhiannon lowers herself into a sitting position. Man, does that lady know how to muster disdain. I plonk myself onto the ground.
Agatha places the can in the middle of the triangle then seats herself in the gap. “Now,” she says, “we all look at the can and imagine it lifting off the ground. Jelly, you’ll be doing your thing and we’ll all be trying to help, won’t we Rhiannon?”
“You’re really loving this, aren’t you Scully?”
Agatha pulls a face at Rhiannon, who turns to me and says,
“If you weren’t just as bad, I wouldn’t know how you can suffer hanging around with these defects.”
I push my knuckles into my eyes. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.
“Just look at the damn can, the both of you.”
I ignore them and focus on the can lying crumpled on the patchy grass. I block out every other sight and sound from my mind as I focus in on the can. I hear the sound of my heartbeat as I tune into my own rhythm, letting my breathing slow and deepen. It takes time, but I find my way to the calm place inside of me: the key.
Unaware of anything other than the can, I imagine myself reaching out my hand and picking it up.
“This is so stupid,” Rhiannon whispers.
“Shut up,” Agatha whispers back.
“Like anything’s going to happen.”
“Shut up! Concentrate.”
“This is just so stupid.”
“Rhiannon, if you don’t…”
I hear the whispering, but it’s like I hear the words second hand. I visualise one thing: picking up the can.
Breathe. Concentrate. Breathe. Concentrate. Breathe. Concentrate. Breathe…
My heart beating steady and slow, I breathe out at length and feel something reach out from within me.
Hmm. Interesting. I can see a silvery thread weaving its way through the air towards the can. When I read Rhiannon’s mind, I could only feel the tentacle. Now I’m trying to use it tangibly, I can see it. I wonder if there’s any significance to this, or if anyone else can see it. The thread caresses the can gently with translucent fingers, rocking it back and forth. Concentrating, I push harder. The thread
reacts to the silent command and wraps its spidery tendrils around the can, harnessing it in a silver bridle. Smiling, I lift my eyes.
Rhiannon shrieks. “Holy shit! I thought you were kidding. What’s going on? What’s she doing?”
“Rhiannon?” Agatha breathes, her eyes locked on the can.
“Uh-huh.”
“Shut up.”
The can rises into the air. It tilts from side to side, revolving in mid air like a circus trapeze artist in slow motion.
“Are we doing that?”
Agatha rolls her eyes. “No, idiot. She is.”
I tilt my head and the can pitches to the left. I nod and the can bobs up and down in the air.
“This is awesome,” Agatha whispers, jumping to her feet. “Really awesome.”
I stand up and the can climbs higher into the air and bobs expectantly, waiting.
“Agatha, sit back down. I want to try something.”
I hold out my arms and start to spin. The can spins around me and everything else blurs into a mosaic of swirls and colours. Only the can remains clear, spinning though the air faster and faster. It circles me like a moon.
Spinning to a stop, I pause, letting the can still.
“Agatha. Catch.”
With one toss of my head, I send the can sweeping through the air.
Agatha reaches out, fumbling as she tries to make the catch. The can twists in her fingers and falls to the floor. She looks up, stricken.
I can’t help laughing. “It’s not a problem, Agatha.” My eyes lock onto the can and I lift it until it hovers in front of her.
Hmm. I can spin it and throw it. What else?
Sucking in a short breath, I reel it in, letting it rest inches in front of my face. I stare at it for a while, then I will the can to flatten. In a hail of squeaking and crunching, it forms into a rough, bumpy, disk.
“Okey dokey,” I whisper under my breath. Spinning on my heel, I yank my head to the left and send it spinning through the air. As it gathers speed, a rumbling noise swells in my head. I push harder and launch it towards the furthest tree trunk in sight. It impales the bark like an arrow.
I walk towards the tree. With no surprise, I see that the can is firmly embedded in the trunk. I turn back to face the others and I shrug.
“I can run if I need to. I can read people’s thoughts, for what good it’ll do me, and I can fight back if I have to. I am getting the hang of these powers way quicker than I thought I would.”