Super Natural: The New Super Humans, Book Three

by T. M. Franklin

  “Here goes nothing,” he muttered as he lifted the lid, a bright white light shooting out of the chest, nearly blinding in its intensity.

  Warmth and electricity ran across his skin.

  “Behind you!” Miranda screamed. Chloe spun around just in time to dodge a large man barreling toward her. She dropped down and swiped out with her right leg at the last moment and the man tripped and fell flat on his face.

  “Coach Gibson?” She froze for a minute, stunned by the fact that the WA U football coach was getting to his feet and cracking his neck with black smoke swirling in his eyes, a murderous expression on his face. One aimed directly at her.

  He lunged for her again and she fell to the ground, scrambling back with arms and legs flailing. She rolled to the side and hopped onto her feet just as Beck rammed into Coach Gibson from the side and they disappeared in the growing darkness.

  The darkness. It was just like her dream.

  Chloe ducked behind a tree for a moment to catch her breath and looked up at the overcast sky. It wasn't night—Chloe knew it was only afternoon—but smoke and dust whirled around the clearing, cloaking everything in a murky haze as lightning crackled overhead. She kept her eyes focused on the corral for a moment. The people inside were now working together to build a human pyramid, a few escaping over the top of the fence and toppling to the ground. They ignored bruises and scratches in their thirst for combat, stumbling toward the fight with unquenchable zeal. Chloe even spotted a woman dragging her arm uselessly beside her, the shoulder obviously dislocated. They were relentless. Fearless. Unbeatable.

  The Order was losing. Chloe knew they were losing.

  She also knew what she'd see when she looked in the opposite direction, and she didn't want to see it.

  “Chloe!” Dylan shouted. “I don't know how much longer I can keep this up!”

  Heart pounding with fear, she turned toward him. Saw him with arms extended overhead, his shield encompassing him and Tru as, one after another, their opponents pounded against it, trying to gain access. Tru stood stiff, her own arms out in front of her, ribbons of light pouring from her fingertips, through the shield, and toward—

  Toward It.

  Hesitantly, Chloe's gaze lifted to the pillar of smoke and swirling debris at the far end of the clearing. She'd seen it before, of course, but could now make out details she didn't notice in the vision. It was huge—probably forty feet high—and it was growing. Tendrils of the black smoke twisted from each compelled person, curling across the open air to the pillar, feeding it, strengthening it. It was like a raging fire, and each person fighting fanned the flames.

  Tru was trying to contain it. Chloe could see her light ribbons swirling around the pillar, but still it kept growing. She'd been at it for about thirty minutes, but she couldn't seem to stop it, couldn't wrap it up like a light-ribboned package, as they'd hoped. Instead, her gift seemed to pass right through it.

  And the pillar kept growing, swelling . . . reaching toward the sky and across the ground like a invasive weed, feeding on the chaos around it.

  “You really thought you could win?” A familiar voice behind Chloe made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She whipped around to find Gina leaning against a tree, examining her nails.

  “Shouldn't you be fighting?” Chloe asked, all fake bravado and exhausted irritation. “Or, I don't know, worshipping at your master's altar or something?”

  Gina laughed, smoke puffing out of her mouth; her eyes black and swirling. “I don't have to fight. They do it for me.” She waved a lazy hand toward the melee. “Besides, I don't have to get my hands dirty. I have a few little tricks that you haven't seen yet.”

  She flicked a wrist and Chloe flew through the air, landing on her back, the breath knocked out of her. Her vision was black at the edges, and right as she was finally able to inhale, Gina appeared over her. “It looks like The Order aren't the only ones with interesting gifts,” she said.

  A loud crash and victorious shouts drew both of their attention toward the corral, and Chloe felt tears of frustration build in her throat at what she saw. The prisoners had managed to knock down a section of the fence and they were streaming out of the opening. She saw the floating woman fly overhead, the man with fire bolts shoot one toward Beck, who barely managed to avoid being hit.

  “Well,” Gina said with a grin. “Looks like the fun's just beginning.”

  Ethan raced through the forest, hurdling fallen logs and ignoring branches slapping him across the face. He had to get to them.

  Had to get to her.

  It was all so clear now. He hadn't really thought about the fact that he'd never seen the chest before. Never been with Chloe when she'd initiated a new member of The Order.

  If he had, would he have received his gift then? Or was this what was meant to be? Was he always to be the last?

  He stopped abruptly at the sound of a scream. Then shouts . . . a crash . . . the grunts of fighting. He was getting closer, but would he get there in time?

  Ethan ran as if his life depended on it.

  Or rather, as if all of their lives did.

  Chloe rolled over onto her back, spitting dirt out with a choked cough. Gina was toying with her, tossing her here and there like a rag doll, and Chloe couldn't do anything about it. How could you use self-defense against someone who didn’t actually have to touch you?

  From what little she could see, between bouts of crashing onto the ground and into trees, it wasn't going much better for the others. They were alive, thank God, but outnumbered by—well, a lot—and Tru was still having no luck containing the smoke pillar.

  “Chloe, watch out!” Miranda shouted, and she rolled to her left, right in time to avoid a falling tree. She got to her knees and ducked behind a large stump, trying to catch her breath as Gina cackled. Chloe caught Miranda's eye and nodded her thanks, moments before her friend was blindsided by a dark-haired man and knocked to the ground. She didn't get up, blood trickling from her swollen lip. Chloe saw Maia in the distance on her knees, curled over to protect herself as two people kicked her. She flickered in and out of sight, but couldn’t seem to maintain her invisibility. Dylan's nose bled as he fought to hold up the shield, under attack by the man with fire shooting from his fingers.

  It was madness. Chaos. And Chloe choked back a sob as Gina threw her down once again.

  Then she saw him. Walking through the middle of the clearing like he hadn't a care in the world.

  No.

  “No!” she screamed, ignoring the fighting around her as she stumbled toward Ethan. She dodged around people and flying debris with one goal in mind. She vaguely realized that Beck had tackled Gina from behind, the two of them crashing to the ground, but she couldn't register more than that.

  Ethan.

  “Ethan!” she screamed, but he couldn't hear her—or chose to ignore her. She stumbled after him, panic and terrifying fear giving her a surge of strength. “Stop!” She reached out and grabbed his sleeve, and he turned toward her.

  “You can't be here!” she shouted, gripping his arms with desperation. She had to get him out of there. “You promised.”

  “So did you,” he replied. But his words weren't heated. They were calm. Peaceful.

  “You have to leave.” She shoved him toward the trees, but he stood his ground.

  “No.”

  “Ethan—”

  “Don't you get it?” he asked, brushing the hair from her bleeding temple. “I'm supposed to be here. This is why you saved me in the first place.”

  “No—” She pulled at his arm, tried to drag him away. “Tru's going to stop it.”

  “She can't.”

  “She will! She's the—”

  “She's the lock and key,” he said firmly. “But Chloe, I'm the vessel. I'm the prison.”

  “No!” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Sobs strangled her.

  “Tru can bind it, but it has to have somewhere to go first.”

  “No, you can't,” s
he cried.

  “I have to. I'm the only one who can.”

  She threw herself at him, clung to him as she wept. “Don't! You can't! Don't leave me.”

  “Chlo—”

  “No!” She stepped back and slugged him in the shoulder. “No. You can't do this.”

  He looked at someone beyond her. “Dylan, help me out here.”

  She whirled on him. “Don't you dare. Don't you dare, Dylan!”

  He looked nervously between the two of them. Dylan cradled one arm in the other and had a smear of blood running down the side of his face. Tru stood next to him, her eyes wide and fearful. Chloe could barely keep her feet in the rising wind. She could see Beck taking on four people at once—trying not to hurt them, but they had no issue with the reverse. He stumbled to a knee and disappeared as Wren swept him away across the clearing.

  “Chloe, we don't have time for this. We can't keep this up!” Dylan shouted over the screaming wind.

  “I can stop it,” Ethan told Dylan. “I can. Trust me.”

  “How?” Dylan asked.

  “It's my gift,” Ethan said. “I need to get closer.”

  “No. No, we need to regroup,” Chloe said, her words swept away in the gale. “We can do this!”

  “No!” Ethan whipped her around and grabbed her by the shoulders, shouting to be heard over the tumult. “It's my decision! It's my choice!”

  Chloe crumpled and he pulled her close, pressing his lips to her hair. “I'm sorry.”

  She clung to him, fists twisted in his shirt. She could hear his heartbeat, even through the chaos around them. Steady and true.

  Gently, he pushed her back. “I love you.”

  “Ethan—”

  He gave her a gentle shove. “Dylan, now.”

  Dylan hesitated.

  “Do it,” Ethan said, firm and sure. “Do it now.”

  Dylan's jaw tightened and a moment later his shield billowed out to encompass the two of them and Tru, Chloe left on the outside.

  “I'm sorry,” he told Chloe.

  “No!” She pounded a fist on the force field. “No, Ethan!”

  He gave her one more soft look, tears glistening in his eyes and turned to walk away toward the pillar of smoke.

  Chloe started after him, but a woman came out of nowhere and shoved her down. Breath knocked out of her, Chloe rolled across the rocky ground and up onto her knees. She fought with a crazed intensity, the self-defense moves taught by Professor Kennedy flowing through her limbs. One after another they came after her, and she could only catch glimpses of others throwing themselves at Dylan's shield, trying unsuccessfully to get at Ethan.

  It was two steps forward and one step back. She tried to get to Ethan, but would have to stop every few moments to fight or dodge an attack. She threw a woman over her shoulder and didn't wait to see where she landed before she started running.

  They were at the edge of the clearing. Right in front of It. Ethan nodded at Dylan.

  Chloe's heart pounded as she tried to run faster, get to him.

  “Ethan!”

  Dylan's shield collapsed to surround only Tru and himself, leaving Ethan open. The wind whipped at his hair and he lifted an arm to protect his eyes from flying debris.

  “No!” The wind swallowed her screams, but Ethan glanced back like he'd heard her anyway. “I love you!” she sobbed. “Ethan, I love you!”

  He nodded, somehow able to hear over the maelstrom around them, or perhaps he knew her that well. Knew that despite her pain, she’d never let him leave without making sure he knew.

  He mouthed I love you and walked right into the cyclone. It swallowed him up.

  “No!” She started after him, but Dylan grabbed her, holding her tightly with her back to his chest as his shield enveloped them. She struggled against him and fell to her knees, dragging him with her. “Ethan!”

  She sobbed, her vision blurred by tears, begging him to stop, to come back. She didn't even know what she was saying anymore. She just needed . . . she wanted . . .

  “It's working,” Tru said.

  Chloe swallowed and looked up at the pillar. Had it . . .

  “It's shrinking,” Dylan said, awestruck.

  And it was. Slowly collapsing as they watched, closing in until she could once again make out Ethan through the swirling debris.

  “Oh my God,” she choked out.

  Ethan floated about a foot off the ground, hands hanging loose at his sides, his eyes and mouth wide open. The black smoke swirled around him . . . no, not around him.

  Into him.

  “He's inviting it in,” Dylan murmured.

  The smoke slipped into him, slid into his mouth and eyes, even his finger tips seemed to be consuming it. Tendrils from the people possessed—fighting on the ground—pulled back toward him. It surrounded him in flowing currents, wrapping around his arms and legs, lapping at his chest.

  And all the way, he seemed to inhale deeply . . . breathing it in.

  Little by little he absorbed the darkness, the pillar shrinking faster and faster until all that remained was a single trail of wispy smoke that he inhaled with a last great breath.

  Chloe choked as she finally saw what she'd feared for weeks. The vision come to life. Ethan floated in the air, his eyes filled with swirling blackness, the smoke of Chaos rippling along his skin, between his teeth.

  He turned toward them and said in a voice not his own . . . a voice that reverberated through the clearing, setting Chloe's teeth on edge.

  “Tru. Now!”

  Without hesitation, Dylan dropped the shield completely and Tru's hands started to glow. She closed her eyes and focused on the power within her.

  Chloe couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

  The light flowed from Tru's fingertips in ten tiny strands that wove into bright, glowing ropes. They flew toward Ethan and wrapped around his chest, faster and faster—a web of light tightening until he was wrapped from neck to toe in a glowing cocoon. His black eyes focused on Chloe for a split second before the web covered his face as well and the light grew brighter until it was blinding. Chloe threw up a hand to shield her eyes as Tru let out a bloodcurdling scream that echoed against the trees.

  Then he was gone. The light blinked out and Ethan just . . . vanished. Lost to the darkness, as Chloe’s visions had showed her, over and over. And despite everything she’d tried to do to keep it from happening, he was . . . Ethan was . . .

  Silence fell on the clearing, broken only by the quiet moans of the injured and Chloe's agonized sobs.

  The tears stopped—eventually—becoming more sporadic than constant until they dried up altogether and Chloe gave in to a dark kind of numbness. She lay in her bed, staring out the crack in the window curtain, and ignored the call of the picture window again.

  “No,” she whispered. “I don't want it.”

  It didn't matter, though. Whenever she closed her eyes she saw it—Ethan wrapped in ribbons of light, darkness swirling in his eyes. The moment he vanished, out of her life—out of this world—forever.

  Whether it was a vision, dream, or simply a horrible memory, she had no idea. She didn't care, really.

  Ethan was gone.

  She clenched the note in her fist, worn and damp from re-reading and tears. Yes, Ethan had left her a note. He left one for his parents, too. She hadn't seen that one, of course, didn't feel like it was something she could ask for. But rumor had it he'd said he was tired of living under his father's thumb and was going to find himself or something.

  She heard his dad had tried to involve the police, but beyond taking a statement, they were doing very little. Ethan was a runaway—not even that. He was an adult, and could go wherever he wanted.

  So, as far as his mom and dad were concerned, he was out there . . . somewhere.

  Chloe felt bad for them, but what could she do? The truth wouldn't help them. They'd never believe it anyway.

  Her own note was short—four simple, scrawled sentences she'd committe
d to memory after staring at them for hours.

  Chloe,

  I'm sorry.

  I know this will hurt you, but it's something I have to do. I'm the only one who can.

  Please always remember I love you.

  —E

  “Chlo . . .” Miranda cracked open her bedroom door, but Chloe didn't move. Rolling over to look at her seemed like a gargantuan task. Lying still was better. Steadier. She didn't feel like she might crack apart at any second.

  “Your aunt's on the phone.” Aunt Cara had begged her to come home, but Chloe wouldn't. She'd then threatened to come to Gatesburg, and only gave up when Chloe promised she would go to class and speak to one of the counselors on campus.

  She hadn't, of course. What could they do?

  “Tell her I'll call her back,” she said.

  “Chlo—”

  “Please?” Chloe held back a sob. “I can't talk to her now. Tell her I'm heading to class?”

  The bed depressed as Miranda sat at Chloe's back and ran fingers through her tangled hair. “Okay, but only if you come eat something.”

  “I'm not hungry.”

  “That's the deal.”

  Chloe clenched her eyes shut, the light from the window sparkling behind her eyelids. “I'm tired.”

  “I'm not backing down on this,” she said. “It's been almost a week.”

  “I can't.” Chloe’s voice broke. “I just can't. Not yet.”

  Miranda rubbed her back. “You can't blame yourself.”

  “Why not?” she snapped. “It's my fault. I was supposed to save him.”

  “Chloe, look at me,” she said firmly. When she didn't move, her voice got a little louder. “Look at me.”

  Chloe sighed and rolled onto her back, meeting her friend's worried gaze.

  “I know you're hurting—”

  “Miranda—”