“Okay, I will go with you, but if Amanda is hurt I won’t hesitate to send hawks to peck out your eyes.”
Just the thought of what I say sends chills down my spine and the lump in my throat returns. I don’t think I can ever get used to hurting people.
“Thank you,” he whispers. “I will earn your trust back, I promise. We need to get moving before they start to wonder what happened.”
I reach out to help him up. His hand swallows mine and I struggle to assist him to his feet. Farren is much more of a man than he should be for his age. Once on his feet, he scans our surroundings. He gestures to a path just behind the outpost and I reluctantly agree to follow.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“There’s an abandoned hub a few miles from here. I’ll be able to contact Jax and Caiden from there.”
More strangers I have to worry about, more unknowns to figure out. Life was empty before, but at least it was fairly safe and easy.
“I hope you can trust these people.”
“They have been with me since the beginning. I’ve known them for a long time now. Jax is the leader of the resistance and will come up with a plan for getting Amanda out of Hawthorne. They are really good people.”
I guess I assumed Farren would be the leader of this resistance. He has a commanding personality and is determined to get things done. This Jax guy better come up with a rescue plan or I will be lost.
“Good people do bad things, too.” I look up at him to see if he caught my little jab.
Without looking back he replies, “I’m glad you see that I’m a good person.”
“Well… uh.” I stop and shake my head. Damn, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but I guess I do see him as a good person after all. I hope I am right, but still… He doesn’t need to know that.
I gather the salvaged supplies from the ranger outpost before I move on to the path. Taking one more look at the death I’ve caused, I cringe. I don’t deserve to forget this. I take extra long to soak it all in before I return to Farren at the edge of the road. We cut through a faint, overgrown path for several minutes, not saying a word.
Looking up, the moon catches my attention as the daylight fades into the backdrop of the forest. This moon also lit our way as we traveled to Bullhead together last night. It reminds me of my first conversation with Farren. He seemed so sincere. Was it all an act? Or did he really not know I was this special Influencer prize that the world was looking for?
About thirty minutes into our trek through the woods, we come to a small stream. Farren suggests we stop to rest. I do not argue with him, as my head wound has been throbbing for several minutes now. The trickling sounds of the flowing water seem so peaceful. I almost forget about the pain and all the uncertainties that lie ahead. After filling a small canteen, he comes to my side and kneels next to me.
Noticing the ugly dried blood and ointment on my head, Farren asks, “Can I take a look at your head? Are you in any pain?”
“Oh… um… I have a headache,” I say, rubbing my temples. “I’ll be okay.”
“Well, let me see how it’s healing,” he insists.
Farren moves behind me, grabbing both arms, and gently pulls me back against his chest. I slump forward at first, but eventually I relax and lean back on him. He is a solid guy. His body covers mine and I feel protected from the outside world. His hands run through my hair as he examines the wound. It feels nice. My doubts about him begin to wash away. I don’t want to be that gullible girl whenever a guy treats me kindly, but something about him makes me feel safe.
“It’s healing nicely, I barely see anything.”
“What?” I blurt out while not paying attention. “Oh…yeah, that’s good.”
Come on, Kaylin, don’t lose focus.
“Let’s clean up this rat’s nest,” he smirks, picking at my crusty mane.
“Shut up,” I hiss.
He laughs. “No really, come on. I’ll help you wash it out.”
He guides me to the narrow creek, which is no more than a few feet across. I get on my hands and knees and lean over it. Farren uses his canteen to rinse out the clumpy residue. His hands squeeze out the grime as he pulls the water from the ends of my hair. I’m beyond due for a trim. My hair nearly reaches my backside, and bugs the crap out of me. Amanda is the one who takes care of the grooming. Whenever she gets her hands on my wavy locks, she throws it up into unique ponytails. I miss her now more than ever.
“Do you think she’s okay?” I ask. “They won’t hurt Amanda, will they?”
“I don’t know, but you can bet she is being heavily guarded since your escape. We will save her; I won’t rest till I make this right.”
He hands me a shirt from his pack and tells me to dry up. It has that recognizable Farren smell. I’m not sure why I really know what Farren’s smell is, but the subtle hint of sawdust reminds me of when Amanda and I dragged his unconscious body off the road when we first found him. I bet it’s from working on his family’s ranch in Lost Souls.
“We better get going,” he suggests.
Another thirty minutes of being poked and scraped by branches while we travel leads us to a clearing that is masked by darkness. The tall evergreen trees that tower all around this clearing block out most of the moonlight. I can hardly see ten yards in front of me. We walk several paces into this vast space when out of nowhere an immense structure begins to reveal itself to us. Crumbling walls that reach five stories delicately lean against one another for support.
“What is this?” I ask. “What happened here?”
“This is what’s left of the Walton hub,” he says. “It was part of the Magnus network before it was destroyed by the Vernon Society a few years back. Come on, let’s get inside so we can contact the others.”
He grabs my hand and leads me around the side of the hub to a slanted, rusted metal entrance. It resembles the opening to a fallout shelter from when people worried about nuclear war. Forty or fifty years ago, governments would use these weapons for fear, but Amanda told me that early Influencers played a part in ridding the world of them. Whoever built these hubs in the past must have made a killing selling to all the desperate moguls who once ruled the world.
We hunch over to avoid hitting our heads on the low ceiling and move down through a hollow-sounding staircase. Our footsteps clank and echo as we move toward a dim light in the distance. The closer we get, the more I can recognize an opening with several closed doors on all sides. The dim red light comes from an emergency fixture above the open door. The air smells of mildew and there’s a strong smell of something rotting. If there was ever a place where you needed to be left alone or undiscovered, this would be it. It’s beyond gross and creepy.
“Over here,” Farren says, clearing away spider webs above my head as we enter the room. “There is a fairly clean cot over there. You’ll need your rest for tomorrow. I’ll have them meet us at dawn.”
Farren turns on a small, battery-powered lantern that he finds on a metal desk that’s next to the bed. The space is no bigger than the shelter bedroom Amanda and I shared six years ago. I clearly remember that bedroom because it was the first time I was able to bunk with only one other child. I felt grown up. Shelters would stuff as many young kids in one room as they could. That was the last time either of us had a place to call our own.
Farren rolls out a small stool from under the desk to sit on. From a small black box he pulls out some sort of a communication device that I’ve never seen before. He tells me the device piggybacks on an unused Magnus frequency band. It then sends data in small waves so the communication will look like simple background noise. Not ideal for long conversations, but perfect for covert messages.
“Hopefully, you will meet Owen Helix,” he says with a smile. “He’s our tech specialist, who invented this device and a ton of other gear. He’s brilliant, but quite a character.”
I lie down on the cot, resting my head on my hand as I watch him operate the device. �
��Echo one—pantry full—party starts—0600,” he parses into the device. It is some sort of coded message.
Whatever he thinks this party is going to be, it better include saving Amanda or he is attending it alone.
8
RESISTANCE
I DON’T REMEMBER falling asleep, but I was beyond tired. Morning comes too soon as I rub the cloudiness from my eyes. I regain focus and notice a large cardboard box next to the bed where Farren sat last night. All sorts of random clothes fill the tattered container. The box is labeled ‘Walton Lost and Found.’ Farren knows I’ve been wearing the same outfit for the last few days. I don’t smell the best and the layer of grime is getting unpleasant. My first reaction should be relief that I get to clean up a bit, but I’m more embarrassed than anything else. I find a black T-shirt and a pair of jeans that look like they should fit well. I wish there was a working shower here, rinsing off at the stream last night is not cutting it. I quickly throw on the clothes, and instantly feel better. The used outfit feels brand new and somehow has a smell of innocence. Recently washed clothes have a scent that reminds me of normalcy. Life was simple back in the shelters. It still sucked, but at least I wasn’t a wanted prize for the greedy.
The partially latched metal door creaks open as I enter the corridor. A faint and familiar smell tickles my nose. What is that? It’s savory, and I know I’ve had it before. A reflective metal panel on the wall makes for a makeshift mirror. I look horrible, but at least the wound on my head has healed and there are no signs of any cut ever being there. Using a pencil I found on the desk in my room, I put my hair into a sloppy bun and try to find where the yummy smell is coming from. The dungeon-like odor of the hallway is nearly covered by the smell—the key word being ‘nearly.’
Light bounces off the corridor walls from an outside source and brightens my path. I follow the smell and find Farren in a small kitchen at the far side of the structure. Quietly, I lean in the doorway without him noticing. I watch him as he cooks breakfast. He knows what he’s doing as he works a frying pan and spatula.
“Shut up—are those eggs you’re cooking?” I blurt out.
He jumps and nearly flips the food on the ground. “Geez, Kay, I almost burned myself.”
“Sorry.” I smile.
“I wish they were real eggs,” he says. “They’re synthetic powder eggs fresh from the bag. Just add water.”
He just called me Kay. I haven’t heard anyone except Amanda call me that. It has a nice ring coming from him.
“Sit down. We have about twenty minutes before they get here.”
“Yes, sir,” I say with a salute and a grin.
We sit across from each other and eat our fake eggs as we wait for more members of this resistance. I don’t know if this rebel group using Influencers is really any better than Magnus and the other sector groups using us.
“Do you really think your resistance can take on Magnus?” I ask. “They have so many weapons and Influencers.”
“That’s the plan. If you help us, we have a real chance at ending their corruption.”
“What do you think I’m going to do?” I ask. “I can’t kill any more people... I just can’t.”
Farren stands and takes his food tin and fork to the sink. He turns to me with his head down. “You know we can’t defeat evil just by wishing it. Sometimes things get ugly, but reward takes great sacrifice. Just hear Jax out, okay?”
“Who is this Jax guy anyway?” I take my last bite and hand him the tin.
With a quick rinse, it goes on a drying rack to the side of the sink. He leans back on the counter and crosses his legs. His deep brown eyes focus on me as he says, “Jax is the head Influencer for Magnus.”
“What!” I jump to my feet and start toward the door. “How could you do this to me—again?”
He clutches my hand and pulls me back to him. “No, wait. It’s not what you think. He has his own issues with Magnus. He’s been building this resistance from within. Jax puts his life at risk every day by staying close to the inner workings of the leadership. I trust him with my life.”
“I don’t know about this anymore,” I say. “This is getting more and more shady, and you’re already on a short leash with me as it is.”
All I can think is, How do I get out of this? I’ve made the wrong choice—and probably signed both my and Amanda’s death warrants in doing so. But what choice do I have now? I could—
A frazzled buzz startles me out of my panicked musings. What the hell is that?
“They’re here,” he says. “That’s the entrance alert. Please just hear him out, okay?”
“I really have no choice now, do I?” I say, arms crossed and my jaw set.
Farren and I head to the entrance hatch to meet them. I take a deep breath and exhale, as if that will do anything to stop my legs from shaking. He opens the door and the light shimmering off the morning dew nearly blinds us. The cool, crisp air is unfamiliar to me. Lost Souls has only two climate changes: hot and very hot. Two young figures emerge from the light. One guy, who looks twenty-something, has bright-red hair and wears a torn military uniform that must be fifty years old. Somebody must really love combat. Then there is the other boy, who looks as young as Farren, but his blue eyes look much older than his face. They look like they have seen the sorrow of countless victims, and that weight has been etched into his irises. He stares right at me and instantly I am uncomfortable. I lower my head, sure he can somehow pull the thoughts right through my eyes.
Pointing to the red-haired guy, Farren smiles and says, “This serious-looking dude is Caiden Rushmore. He is our tactical genius and war nerd.”
“Hey!” barks Caiden. “This nerd will knock that smile right off your face, Ferret.”
A subtle laugh escapes as I watch Farren and Caiden playfully attack each other in the clearing. I turn to see Jax extending his hand my way. “Hi, Kaylin,” he says softly. “My name is Jax Riley. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
His voice is clear and calming. I know he is not using his ability on me, as Influencers can’t push other Influencers, but it still feels as if he is putting me at ease somehow.
“Hey. Nice… uh… nice to meet you, too.”
“Thanks for giving me a chance to talk to you,” he says, shaking my hand firmly. “Your ability is becoming well known throughout Magnus. I’m glad you were able to escape before they placed you at your post. I can imagine what they would force you to do.”
The life of tinkering in people’s reality for the greedy purposes of the Magnus Order would be a far worse fate than death.
“I really don’t want to imagine that, to tell you the truth,” I say. “Let’s just pretend they’d have me washing dishes. I hate doing dishes.”
I swear I can almost see him crack a slight smile. “Yeah, me too,” he says, releasing my hand.
My legs have stopped shaking and the uncertainty surrounding him has eased a bit.
“Do you mind if I ask where Magnus found you?”
He looks over to Farren and Caiden, who are laughing as they walk back to the dilapidated hub. He raises his hand at Farren as if to tell him he and I will join them soon. Farren nods, then glances at me with a thoughtful look. He knows I’m not the most comfortable with this situation. I give him a soft smile as he disappears down the hatch opening.
“Think we can take a walk?” he asks. “I’ll fill you in.”
I swallow, but nothing happens as nerves have robbed me of any moisture in my mouth. “Yeah, okay,” I say reluctantly.
We begin walking around the hub. I notice the battle scars that are covering the outer walls. It is a clear reminder of how cruel the world is now. Fighting just to expand and be bigger than the next group. It’s just sad how little we have learned from the collapse of society so long ago.
“This area still takes my breath away,” he explains while scanning the lush, green-filled backdrop. “These trees and the natural beauty are so different from where we grew up.”
; “You’re from Lost Souls?”
“Yeah, I was recruited at sixteen. Before that, I hadn’t been anywhere else. I wouldn’t have left if it wasn’t for the Vernon Society taking my parents. That changed everything.”
We continue walking along the edge of the clearing. “Why did they take your parents?”
“Well, I wasn’t the most well-behaved kid when I was younger,” he confesses. “My push ability was exploding at the time, and I wouldn’t hesitate to show it off.”
He tells me how he would use his push on people in his town to guide them to become ‘extra generous’ toward him. Soon people were treating him like some sort of boy king, and this behavior did not go unnoticed.
“My parents knew the recruiters would come for me,” he says. “I was stupid and didn’t think about anyone but myself. They tried to teach me how to act responsibly, but I didn’t listen. Shortly after my fifteenth birthday is when they came for me.”
Confused, I ask, “Why did the Vernon Society take your parents instead of you?”
“We caught wind of them coming days in advance,” he says. “I didn’t waste any time. I molded the town into a small army ready to fight for my family, but there would be no fight. I didn’t even know they left, I was too caught up in my own little rebellion to notice.”
“Who left?” I ask.
“My parents. They left early that morning to cut off the Vernon Society before they got to town. They never came back.”
Jax stops and sits down on an old, rotting tree stump. He looks like he’s fighting back years of emotion. “Sorry… I don’t normally talk about this.”
“No, it’s okay. It must have been hard to lose your parents like that.”
I don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but I can’t help trying to figure him out.
“How did you end up with Magnus then?” I ask, inching closer to him.
Influence (Influence Series Book 1) Page 6