Blood: An Affinities Novel (The Affinities Book 1)

by Kirsten Krueger

  “Okay, well that’s not really news, Greenie,” Adara cut in dryly. “We all know the media and government are corrupt. So, they’ll imprison us. Aren’t we already, basically, in prison?”

  “No. We might be stuck here, but we have some freedom. If the principal is right, we’ll all be going to federal prison. Who knows what they’ll do to us there if they think we’re all a threat?”

  “Fine, it could be bad, but what are we supposed to do about it? None of us can vote, and it doesn’t matter, anyway, because the government always rigs the elections, regardless.”

  “That’s not true,” Ackerly gasped in outrage. “This country is a just and fair place where everyone has a right and a voice—”

  “Really? Then explain to me why the government hasn’t listened to Periculy’s voice,” Adara prompted, grinning despite the fact that he couldn’t see her.

  After a moment of inner turmoil, he grunted, “I, well—whatever. That’s not all the email said, anyway. Mr. Periculy said… they found nuclear residue at the site of the explosion.”

  “The Wackos are using nuclear bombs?” she blurted out with genuine shock.

  “Or one of them has some kind of nuclear Affinity, but either way, it’s not good. Whatever the case, there wasn’t much residue left over, which implies it was either a small explosion or…was somehow absorbed…”

  “Is a small nuclear reaction even possible?”

  “It shouldn’t be, but none of this really should be.”

  “We’re screwed no matter what, then, aren’t we?” Adara decided. “Either we’re imprisoned by the government or we’re A-bombed by the Wackos.”

  “Well, um…yeah,” Ackerly admitted, his grimace shining through the dark. “We’re screwed no matter what.”

  “So…you think there’s a person with a nuclear Affinity?” Tray clarified as he glanced between Ackerly and Adara. The two ate dinner in the cafeteria beside him while Seth and Kiki sat across the table, whispering into each other’s ears. “You both realize that is just physically impossible? Ackerly, at least you should realize that; Stromer is dumb, but you’re not.”

  Adara merely shoved fries into her mouth. “None of these Affinities are possible, Nerdworm—that’s the whole point. If there’s not someone with a nuclear Affinity, then they have access to nuclear bombs, and that’s just as bad.”

  “Yes, and while they probably wouldn’t hurt us directly, the effects of nuclear warfare will demolish this entire country—possibly the entire world,” Ackerly explained nervously.

  Appetite lost, Tray pushed his plate away. “Well, thinking about this is certainly going to make it harder for me to concentrate on studying for our science quiz tomorrow.”

  “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” Adara questioned as her eyebrows shot up. “Grades and school aren’t gonna mean shit if we’re all blown to bits by nuclear bombs.”

  “And what do you propose we do about it, Stromer?” he countered, agitation budding in his chest. “Ackerly’s the only one who knows his Affinity, and it’s plants. We wouldn’t stand a chance in some battle against the Wackos—not that we know who they are or where they are, regardless. Plus, on top of all that, we’re stuck in this town.”

  “Maybe…maybe Mr. Periculy will do something about it,” Ackerly said. “He sent the email—he knows about it. We don’t know what his Affinity is. Maybe it’s something really awesome that’ll stop the Wackos.”

  “He’s got a Mental Affinity,” she said as she picked at some of the food on Tray’s plate. “It’s probably something insane, which would explain why he’s such a creep.”

  “What makes you think he has a Mental Affinity?” Tray challenged, staring at her with disgust when she picked up his half-eaten taco.

  “He was wearing purple,” Adara offered between bites. “That’s their color.”

  “Dr. Wright said the colors didn’t really mean anything.”

  “Yeah, well, he created the color system, so obviously he would have picked his favorite color to match his Affinity’s class.” With the jump of her eyebrows, Adara sunk her teeth into his taco again, and he grimaced. “I think our biggest goal right now should be to discover Hastings’s power. If it’s bad enough to land him in jail, it might be good enough to defeat some Wackos.”

  “We can’t leave this freaking town,” Tray repeated, enunciating each word. “And since when do you care about saving the world?”

  “Since I live in it,” she retorted with a caustic laugh. “You of all people should know I only want to save my own ass. To do so, in this case, I’ll have to take out the Wackos and the government—sounds chaotically fun to me.”

  “Of course it does.”

  “Guys! Guys!” Hartman Corvis exclaimed as he popped up behind them. His orange hair was windswept and his freckles vibrated with the intensity of his consternation. “You’ve gotta see what’s happening on TV.”

  Kiki jumped out of her seat across the table. “Is it the fashion show?”

  “No, it’s the news,” he said, appearing slightly disoriented. “There’s been another Wacko attack.”

  Ackerly and Adara, who was mid-bite with Tray’s taco, glanced at each other knowingly before springing out of their seats and following Hartman across the room to where the cafeteria’s only television resided. Tray almost wished it were the fashion show they were so intrigued by—then he wouldn’t have had to follow them. Grudgingly, he did.

  Many other students were already crowded around the screen suspended from the ceiling in the corner. Mutely, Tray watched as a building erupted with a flash of light and a mushroom of smoke—indeed, a nuclear reaction. Before the viewers could witness the direct aftermath of the explosion, the scene switched to the reporters sitting in the safety of their studio.

  “What a tragic explosion,” the male reporter said as he shook his head. “Five civilians were murdered in this terrorist attack brought on by the group known as the Wackos. For those who are unaware, the Wackos are a hate-mongering group of individuals who claim to have superpowers.”

  “Their claims might have more weight than we previously thought,” the female reporter said in a grave tone. “There have been numerous reports from people who allegedly saw a boy flying through Cleveland the other day. Witnesses say he had bright blue hair and appeared not to be using any advanced flying technology.”

  “Many of these Wackos have oddly-colored hair,” the male reporter pressed on. “Anyone with unnaturally-colored hair should be reported to your local police—especially if they have matching eyes.”

  “Yes, that seems to be the trademark of these terrorists,” the female reporter agreed. “Despite the brightness of their hair and eyes, though, these are dark, murderous individuals, and should all be treated as such. Execute caution over the next few days and alert the authorities of any suspicious behavior. These Wackos are not a threat to be taken lightly.”

  “Five people?” Hartman repeated in disbelief. “Damn. The Wackos are making us look like monsters.”

  “The public doesn’t know about us,” Lavisa said as she stepped up beside Tray, sipping on a purple smoothie. Her yellow hair was pulled up into a messy bun and her face glowed with sweat, as if she’d just been training in the gymnasium. “If they did, they’d think we were Wackos. The public doesn’t know Affinities exist.”

  “Mm. Pessimistic, but I like it,” Adara commented, her eyes glued to the reporters on the screen. “You have a useful power, Mustard. You’ll aid us in our fight against the Wackos, won’t you?”

  Lavisa’s face remained impassive as she brought her cup to her lips. “I usually only use my Affinity for self-defense—so maybe.”

  “Everyone seems…a little distressed over here,” Eliana said as she and the ex-con—Hastings, Tray now knew—joined the crowd. Though she seemed to be attempting to smile at everyone, the boy made no effort to appear cordial as he glared solely at the television screen.

  “Yeah, only a mind reader co
uld tell,” Adara intoned.

  “Hey, you guys should turn on the debate,” Avner suggested from where he and his girlfriend sat at a table just beyond the swarm. Tray’s awareness spiked with that.

  “The presidential debate? Turn it on,” he ordered Hartman.

  “Ah, yes. Now that the Almighty Nerdworm has commanded it, it must be done,” Adara jeered.

  “I don’t have the remote,” Hartman said when Tray nudged him. “Someone turn on the debate!”

  After a few moments of murmuring, the channel finally switched to show America’s two presidential candidates standing behind podiums. The republican nominee, a middle-aged man with dark skin and a short afro, was the one presently speaking.

  “Given the recent events with these terrorist Wackos, I believe it is time that the government truly intervenes. We will allow no carelessness when dealing with even potential members of this group of criminals. When I become president, anyone suspected of having any connection to this group will be taken in immediately for questioning. Anyone found to have one of these ‘powers,’ which are threatening to the public, will be detained by the government.”

  The man’s last few words were drowned out by the erupting applause of the crowd, but the moderator quickly attempted to silence them. “So, Mr. Ventura, to clarify, you are saying you would like to imprison all Wackos and all people connected to the group?”

  “Yes,” Ventura confirmed with a nod.

  “He wants to imprison everyone with powers—that’s what he’s saying,” Adara said as she elbowed Ackerly. “You were right, Greenie.”

  “Unfortunately,” he muttered as he rubbed his upper arm where she’d bumped him.

  “And what is your opinion on the Wackos, Mr. Dyer?” the moderator asked the democratic nominee.

  The elderly man, whose hair was as white as his skin, cleared his throat and then responded, “I believe these Wackos are a real threat to the general public, and they must be stopped. I am not usually one to target a minority, but these terrorists have not shown themselves to be a peaceful people. For the safety of all Americans, they need to be detained. So…I agree with Mr. Ventura.”

  There was a collective silence on the television and in the cafeteria until the sudden sound of applause cut through the air. The clapping did not originate from the young students in the cafeteria, though; all of them stared at the screen in bewilderment

  “You…agree?” Tray exclaimed, breaking the quiet that plagued the room. He could barely process the insanity.

  “That was unexpected,” Adara stated, eyeing the candidates on the screen with contempt.

  “Finally—finally—the republicans and democrats agree on something and we are the opposing side!” Tray fumed as the rest of the students also began to rage. “Whichever side wins, we’re toast!”

  “Maybe the government doesn’t know where we are…or that we exist,” Eliana said, though she didn’t sound convinced.

  “No, they know,” Seth said from where he stood beside Tray. Absorbed in the screen, he hadn’t even noticed his twin’s presence. “Fraco and Aethelred said they were required by the government to collect Affinities our age—”

  “Mr. Periculy won’t let the government destroy this town,” Hastings interrupted, surprising Tray and the others, with his gruff voice. They all looked at him, waiting for some elaboration, but he refused to return anyone’s gaze.

  “Oh, you talk to the King once and now you think you know what he will and will not let happen?” Adara challenged, her head cocked to the side.

  “Mr. Periculy—he—he built this town,” Ackerly said. “He wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to it…but it might not be his choice.”

  “Wait! Wait, everyone!” a man exclaimed as he came running onto the television screen. The cafeteria hushed, and Tray watched, open-mouthed, as this man disrupted a televised presidential debate.

  With rich brown hair and vibrant green eyes, he was handsome and fairly fit for a middle-aged man. As the two candidates gawked at him, he positioned himself between their podiums and straightened his suit jacket. “Hello, America. Many of you do not know me because the media gives me very little attention, but I am Harold Hauser, a third-party candidate in this presidential election. I have opinions on many points, but my stance on the ‘Wackos’ is one many of you might want to hear—”

  “Mr. Hauser,” the moderator spoke up, “you have not been asked to join this debate.”

  “But why not?” a woman’s voice asked.

  Gasps filled the air when she stepped onto the stage clothed in a flattering violet suit that blended with her flowing purple hair. She appeared to be roughly the same age as Harold Hauser, but her face was lively and her dark magenta eyes were radiant as she sauntered up beside him.

  “Why does the media not give time to a third-party candidate whose ideas could be just as valid as either of the two major parties?” the woman pressed as the two candidates behind her gaped in astonishment.

  “S-someone—grab her!” the moderator cried frantically. “A Wacko—”

  “I am not a Wacko,” the woman assured him. She held up her hand toward a security officer charging in her direction and he immediately stopped. His face mollified to contentment as he gazed upon her with admiration. “The correct term for those of us with ‘superpowers’ is Affinities.”

  “Damn, she is hot,” Hartman said, drooling as he stared at the television, “for, you know, an old lady…”

  Tray was too stunned to comment on Hartman’s lewd proclamations. “She’s about to get herself arrested.”

  “She won’t,” Avner said as he materialized behind them to get a better view of the television. “We know her—she’s visited Periculand a few times. She’s an Affinity ambassador. The Reggs claim to know nothing of us, but they do. It’s been her mission to assure the government that not all Affinities are bad since the Wackos started terrorizing.”

  “For those who are uneducated due to the media’s ignorance,” the woman said, “I am Olalla Cosmos. I will be Mr. Hauser’s vice president when he is elected as president—” There was an instant uproar among the audience at the debate, but by simply holding up her hand, Olalla muted them. “As many of you can tell already, my power is one of peace,” the woman explained as she began to pace the stage. “Mentally, I am able to bring peace to all who are at conflict with both one another and themselves. You see, not all Affinities are dangerous. There are ‘Wackos’ out there who wish to harm you, but there are many others, young and old, who have powers that can help this nation rise to greatness.

  “My running-mate and I do not wish to wrongfully imprison innocent people. We are not as prejudiced as our competitors. These Wackos, while dangerous to the public, are only scared—they fear people like Mr. Ventura and Mr. Dyer, who wish to strip away their freedom. We want to help these Wackos feel safe and included; we want them to become normal citizens who can work together with the non-Affinities. We want to bring peace to your minds, your communities, and this country in a way the republicans and democrats refuse to even try. We want to make America a nation of peace for all.”

  There was a very slow and strained applause on the television, but the eruption in the cafeteria was immense. Students hopped up on the tables to cheer and hoot, and Hartman was teleporting all over the room to ensure his approval was heard by everyone.

  “Man, I wish I could vote,” he said once he’d popped up between Tray and Lavisa.

  “I’m certainly voting for her,” Avner said. “Well, I’m voting for Hauser, I guess. They’re the least corrupt, and at this point, the only ones who won’t send us to prison.”

  “I’ve always wanted a woman with style in the White House,” Kiki announced to no one in particular. “Her fashion sense is spot on.”

  “I don’t really like the idea of an Affinity helping run this country,” Tray said, studying the woman on the screen with skepticism. “I don’t like her ability.”

  Adara’s eyebrows s
hot up dubiously. “You don’t like peace, Nerdworm?”

  “I don’t like that she can make people agree with her so easily,” he corrected with a scowl. “She might be saying good stuff now, but what if she comes up with some crazy idea and everyone goes along with it just because they aren’t able to argue with her?”

  “That’s why she’s not becoming president,” Adara said. “She’ll just be the vice president. Anything she comes up with will have to go through Harold.”

  “Yeah, well, Harold seems like a pushover to me,” Tray grumbled.

  “Nah, Harold seems cool,” Seth argued. “I wanna look like him when I’m older—just with weirdly-colored hair, since I’ll have developed my super strength by then.”

  “Speaking of developing Affinities,” Avner injected before Tray could open his mouth again, “you guys are all invited to JAMZ on Friday night—or, technically, Saturday morning. It starts at midnight.”

  “What the hell is JAMZ?” Adara sneered. Her sour mood actually managed to mollify Tray’s. “Some concert?”

  Avner’s smile was so pure that Tray wondered how he and Adara had emerged from the same womb. “No, but it’s fun. Most of the school comes, usually. You’ll see what it’s like if you show up. It’s in the basement of the Physicals Building, but don’t tell any of the adults—this isn’t exactly a school sanctioned event…”

  14

  Super Strength Showdown

  On Friday evening, just before midnight, Adara and Eliana exited their dorm room together to see a long line of students slowly descending the spiral staircase. The hall was dark, but many carried flashlights, and one girl’s Affinity gave her skin the ability to glow. Adara caught sight of the blue-haired Pixie Prince emerging from the door beside hers, but she didn’t have time to dwell on the discovery that his room was directly next to hers because she was too distracted by the fact that Nero was currently across the corridor with the Pixie Princess.