New Identity

by Tenaya MKD

  I pushed my fingers through my hair, letting them linger on my scalp. As if I might feel the frequencies if I tried hard enough.

  “Are those waves what makes someone powered?” I asked.

  “They’re more of a side effect. People with powers are born with them. Abilities don't usually develop until around ten, but they are in your DNA. It just so happens that, no matter your power, it causes your brain to function differently this way.”

  The thought of having my power at ten years old raised so many questions.

  How did my parents deal with that? Have I gone missing before? How many awkward situations did that put us in? There must be some funny stories…Was anyone else in my family powered? My parents must be worried about me now…looking for me.

  When I stopped staring into space, Cayde was looking at me like he could see my thoughts in my face. I hated the pity I saw in his eyes.

  “Can you show me?” I asked, pointing to the console to snap us both out of the moment.

  He touched a few of the buttons, bringing up a screen that showed a list of numbers. “These are your readings.”

  I stared at the screen, looking for a way to discern that. “How can you tell?”

  “I assigned this ID number to you before we met. I suppose we can replace it with your name now.” A few more button presses brought up a text box. He typed in “Nova” and hit “enter.”

  I stared at the name on the screen for a moment—my new name. It was odd, seeing it in writing. But it was kind of good too. Like I was finding a sense of “me.”

  Cayde leaned in close to me to reach a sphere that was set into the control panel. It seemed to act as the system’s mouse. Part of me wanted to back away, to put a more comfortable amount of distance between us. But most of me really didn’t. So, I stayed close enough to smell his fresh-scented laundry detergent, while he clicked through pages of numbers and graphs.

  He brought up a new screen and pointed to a list of numbers, three on each line. “These numbers are coordinates referring to your location.” He grinned. “No one has ever made GWNN work so hard for these numbers.”

  I patted the front of the console. “Sorry, GWNN.”

  He laughed. “You were difficult for me too. Really hard to follow. When we met in New York, it was only because I’d happened to be there.”

  I was surprised to hear he’d put in so much effort. “How long were you looking for me?”

  “I left here right after your readings came up in Washington. Thanks to GWNN, I knew where you were, but I couldn’t travel as fast as you did. I gave up after the second time you relocated. I went to New York for an unrelated reason. Lucky, right?” He smirked. “We had to arrange private flights for me to keep up after New York. And I still had a tough time! I’m really glad Trish was near here, so I was able to get you into the facility before your power moved you again.”

  “I’m glad too.” It sent a chill up my spine to imagine how differently things could have gone. If he hadn’t gotten to me in time to stop the kidnappers, or if I’d disappeared again and they had caught up to me before he did, things could have gone really badly.

  He pressed a button and the page scrolled down. “This number here refers to your gamma wave levels. When you transfer bodies, this reading spikes to higher numbers than I've ever seen. Even right now, this is high.”

  I didn't know what to make of that. I still didn't see my power as anything more than a huge hassle. But it's always nice to hear you are powerful in some way.

  A strong mind sounds good.

  He pointed to a red icon at the bottom of the screen. “This down here is indicating that we have GWNN locked onto your signal. When you spike at night, it dampens that gamma wave energy and keeps you from transferring.”

  “I guess I owe her big!” I said.

  “You can send any gift baskets and cards to my room. I'll pass them along for you.”

  I laughed, until my gaze drifted back to the tremendous glowing crystal above my head. The overwhelm factor he’d warned me about was setting in. The longer I looked up, the more I wanted to get close enough to touch it. But there was also a part of me that just wanted to run away.

  As though he'd read my mind, Cayde said, “Let's go get some coffee.” It was the perfect sentence to pull me back into myself and inspire my feet to move.

  11

  The sight of the empty cafeteria was a relief. I wasn’t up to meeting anyone new. Sounds of shifting pots and pans came from the kitchen, but otherwise, it was just us.

  “Thankfully, coffee is one of the very few things we source from outside,” Cayde said. “I think mostly because Chief would cease to function without it.”

  “I can definitely relate to that.” I laughed.

  When silence grew between us this time, it was tense. At least for me. We sat across from each other sipping coffee like we had the first day we met, but things were very different now. That day, I’d thought we might be on a date. Now, I knew that I’ve only ever been work for him.

  That thought bothered me more than I liked. It's not that I ever thought the date was going to go somewhere; I fully expected to never see him again. But feelings are rarely rational, I hear. That’s why I’d like to avoid them.

  “How many people live here?” I asked him, trying to put my mind on other things.

  “Twelve, counting you.”

  “This place was obviously made for a lot more people than that. Where is everyone?”

  “Well, the facility was made with the intention of finding the people who were kidnapped and bringing them back here.”

  “Oh...” I was making a habit out of asking the wrong questions.

  “It gives us room to grow though.” Cayde added quickly. “We have one couple here who is pregnant so they'll soon be needing a second room.”

  I cringed inside, imagining the sound of a baby's cries echoing around these cement walls.

  “Not much of a baby person?” he asked.

  “Okay, how do you do that? There is no way I am just that expressive.”

  He said, “What do you mean?” But I got the feeling he knew exactly what I meant. After a slow drink of his coffee—and a long look from me—he finally admitted, “I might have an ability I didn't mention.”

  I looked at him with a face that said, “Go on.”

  He sighed. “Both of my parents were powered, so it makes sense that I would be too. But I never noticed any abilities present themselves in me. I mean, I’ve always seemed to be sensitive to people's feelings, and I do seem to be able to put someone at ease when I need to. But it's never been anything clear. It's such a subtle thing that I’m still reluctant to even believe it's an ability.” He smiled. “I think I’m just a generally intuitive and likable guy.”

  Like always, I immediately wanted to smile back. I had to stop myself.

  How can he not see how powerful that is?

  Having been on the receiving end of his power, I had no doubt that it was a strong ability.

  What if he is downplaying it now on purpose?

  His face dropped. “You’re upset…”

  “Of course, I’m upset, Cayde! You’ve been manipulating me!”

  “This is why I hate this ability,” he said, almost under his breath. He raked his tense hands through his hair.

  “This explains why I went for coffee with you when I knew I shouldn't. And this is definitely why I went to your hotel room! I would never have done something like that otherwise!”

  He made me feel like I could trust him! And I bought into it completely. How could I be such an idiot?

  “I’ve never wanted to make you do anything you didn’t want to do,” he said. “Please, believe that.”

  What if this is also why I've felt willing to stay here?

  “Why did you wait until now to tell me about this?” I tried to keep my voice level, but I could feel the sharpness of my words on my tongue. My hands were clamped around my coffee mug like vices. I didn't want hi
m to think he needed to get in my head to calm me down, but I was pissed.

  I flat-out asked him about his power! He dodged my question on purpose!

  “I’ve only recently accepted that it might be my power,” he said. “The last thing I want is to be in people’s heads where I’m not welcome! I really try not to use it at all, but I can’t always help it. I don't get to turn it on and off!”

  “That's bullshit and you know it!” My words were growing more thorns by the second. “I’ve felt you in my head since we met! I just didn't know that’s what it was.”

  He reached toward me, like he intended to touch my hand. But I pulled my hands off my mug and into my lap, where they immediately formed into fists. He settled for awkwardly laying his outstretched hand on the table.

  “I promise, Nova, I have never set out to make you think or feel anything.” He slouched back in his chair, letting his eyes drop to his coffee cup. “I will admit that the day we met, I needed you to spend time with me. I needed you to trust me. Maybe my ability did somehow encourage those things... but I swear…”

  I slammed my palms down on the table and stood up to leave. The entire table tilted as the leg under my hands bent. Coffee sloshed out of our mugs, dripping into a puddle at my feet. I stalked a couple steps away before he jumped out of his seat and grabbed my hand to stop me.

  “Where are you going, Nova? Please don't blow this out of proportion.”

  I turned on him, ripping away my hand. “Out of proportion? You can't say in one breath that you manipulated me, and then in the next say you'd never do it! This isn't an overreaction to that! How do I trust a single thing that you, or anyone else here, has said, now? I can't even trust my own instincts if I’m around you!”

  We just stared at each other. Me fuming. And him speechless.

  He had to know I was right. Or maybe he just knew that arguing with me about it was going to get him punched. Either way.

  I took a step closer to him and looked up to meet his eyes. “I’m not in control of much in my life. I will not give away an ounce of the control I do have.” My fists clenched at my sides. “Stay out of my head.”

  “Nova, I would never…”

  I was out the door, slamming it behind me, before he could finish his sentence.

  “Hey! New girl!” Eric called to me from a doorway down the hall. “Care for a drink?”

  12

  Eric's room was basically identical to mine, except that it looked like someone lived in it. Taped to the walls were posters of women in tiny bikinis straddling sports cars. A stash of half-empty liquor bottles sat in the bottom of the closet, next to his boots. And on the dresser, there was a silver-framed photo of a blonde young lady with a sweet face.

  I sat myself on the floor, and he passed me the bottle of Georgi vodka. Apparently, we were both having a straight-from-the-bottle kind of day. I took a generous swig. It burned in my throat on its way down, making my eyes squint slightly.

  “Do you often sit on your bed alone, drinking liquor, in the middle of the day?” I asked. Not that I had any room to judge. Here I was angry-drinking in a strange man's room before lunch.

  “It’s something I reserve for days that end in 'Y',” he said.

  My face cracked into a smile.

  Maybe I’ll end up liking Eric after all.

  “I heard yelling coming from the cafeteria and thought I should extend a helping bottle.”

  “Well, I appreciate it. A buzz will make the trip out of here more enjoyable.”

  “Why would you leave?” he asked. Like he couldn't understand why I’d leave all of this behind.

  “I suppose the fact that you have to spend your days drinking alone to cope, does make it seem like an idyllic place to live. Maybe I should reconsider.”

  I call it sarcasm; others might call me a bitch. Whatever.

  His face hardened. “Don't assume you know me because you've met me once. You have no idea what I am coping with. I invited you to join me, and here you are. So, save your judgments.”

  He was right. Unfortunately, I didn't know how to admit that effectively, so I just said, “This is decent vodka. I don’t think I normally drink clear liquor.”

  “It's not my first choice, but I take whatever they get me.”

  I couldn't think of anything nice to say, so I asked the personal question I needed to hear his answer to. “Why do you live here, Eric? Why would you give up bacon and the liquor of your choosing to live underground?” It made no sense to me.

  “Because I want everyone involved with Shadow to die a painful death.” He didn't say this as though it was the dramatic statement that it was. He said it like it was just a matter of fact. Like he had been telling me something as simple as his favorite color.

  “You believe that story, then?”

  “It's not a story,” he snapped. “That Crowley bastard took everything from me.” His eyes wandered over to the picture on his side table. This morning I wouldn't have guessed that his face was even capable of looking as forlorn as it did now, looking at her.

  “How long have you lived here?” I asked.

  “Nine months, three weeks, and five days.”

  “Was Cayde the one who brought you here?”

  Maybe he brainwashes everyone he brings here.

  “He and Chief Markham both saved my life. I've been with them since.” His eyes still lingered on the picture on the side table. I didn't have the balls to ask, but I assumed Cayde and Chief hadn't been able to save her.

  He finally turned away from her to look at me. “I heard what you and Cayde were arguing about. I get why you're mad. And if you really want to leave, no one is going to stop you. But think about it, really hard, before you go. There are dangerous people out there. And they are looking for you. If they have found you once, they will find you again.”

  If his plan had been to scare me, it worked. As much as it pained me to admit that to myself. The attempted kidnapping was very fresh in my mind. I could still feel the panic that had squeezed on my heart when they taped my hands behind my back…

  It could have gone so differently. So much worse.

  “How do you trust someone who can manipulate your mind? Between Cayde, and GWNN 'harmonizing with my brainwaves,' how am I supposed to ever be sure something isn't in my head, controlling me?”

  “Cayde is a good guy. When he’s around, I feel less…” He paused to search for the word he wanted to use. “…like drinking alone in my room all day. But, he has never made me feel like I’m not in control of my mind.”

  “How would you know if he did?” I asked.

  “I guess that’s a fair point. But if he was really so in control of your mind, would you have been yelling at him twenty minutes ago?”

  Damnit.

  I reached up to tuck my hair behind my ear, before realizing it was too short to do so. To keep him from seeing me consider that I might have been wrong, I looked down to intently examine my shoes. “I guess that is a fair point.”

  He lay back on the bed with a satisfied smile. “Now, since you're not in any rush to leave, why don't you get out of those ugly scrubs.” He looked at me with seductive eyes as he patted the little space left on the bed next to him. If I’m honest, it was tempting. But that was probably the vodka talking.

  “Oh Eric, here I was thinking you're actually this deep and damaged guy!”

  “I can go as deep as you want me, sweetheart,” he said with a devilish grin.

  I laughed the hardest I’ve laughed, maybe ever.

  I really do like Eric.

  The world wouldn't stop moving. Seasickness was churning my stomach. Besides that, I felt pretty damn good. It's amazing what liquor and a good laugh can do for you.

  I’d decided I would stay at the facility, at least for now. Eric made me feel more at ease about things. I barely knew him, but I felt like I could relate to him. Definitely more than I could relate to anyone else I’d met.

  Plus, Cayde had been right about me nee
ding these people. I hated that fact, but it would be stupid of me to deny it. Controlling this so-called ability, finding my body, and being protected from this Crowley guy were important. And they were things I would have a hard time accomplishing alone.

  When my trek down the spinning hallway had finally brought me to my room, I took my key from around my neck and aimed to put it in the lock. It took a few tries.

  As I turned the key, I happened to also turn my head to look back down the hall. There were two Caydes standing in front of one of the doors just past Eric's, looking in my direction.

  Hopefully, he didn't see me do too much stumbling.

  I needed to talk to him, but I would have to do it later.

  It’s nap time.

  13

  A loud knock at the door pulled me into consciousness. I’d been dreaming of a man with dark, curly hair and a young girl with hair that matched. He’d just tucked her under a patchwork quilt and begun reading her a story, when my eyes popped open.

  “Go awayyy,” I mumbled. I wanted to hear the story.

  There was a puddle of drool on my pillowcase, soaking my cheek. The vodka no longer had me spinning, but my head ached pretty badly. Another knock.

  “I'm coming!” I snapped.

  I wiped my face on the back of my hand before opening the door. “What?” My eyelids still hung heavy.

  “It’s dinnertime. I thought you could use something to eat. And probably some water,” Cayde said, holding out a full glass to me.

  Not all heroes wear capes.

  I took the glass and chugged the entire thing in one go. The throb in my head dulled immediately. “Food does sound good.”

  We walked to the cafeteria, side by side. The silence between us was definitely tense. I knew I owed him at least somewhat of an apology. He shouldn’t have used his power on me. And I wanted it to be clear that he should never do it again. He didn't deserve the extreme reaction I'd had though. I’d broken a table for shit’s sake.