by Anh Do
‘Call them off!’ Justin said fearfully, as Trish’s screams grew louder.
But Justin couldn’t tell Amber what to do – there was nobody left alive who could. She looked down at Justin’s hand on her arm. Suddenly a beetle landed on Justin’s hand, shooting its burning chemicals onto his skin.
Justin cried out and released her. He backed away, fear in his eyes, clutching his hand.
Amber stared around her at the swarm of insects and frightened students. She hadn’t meant to do any of this, not consciously at least.
Stop! she thundered, though whether she was communicating this to the beetles or herself, she wasn’t sure.
Leave.
The beetles rose back into the air, and Amber turned and ran as fast as she could.
He opened his eyes and blinked with some effort. Though the light was soft, it still stung.
He blinked again and his surroundings slowly came into focus. Standing around him were people in lab suits carrying clipboards.
Where am I? A hospital?
But as his foggy eyes wandered around the room, he wasn’t so sure. The walls were dark and metallic and the equipment even more high-tech than you’d expect in a hospital. There was a full bank of computers and screens running the length of one wall. The machines were performing scans, and the team of lab coat-wearing operators watched every blip and spike. Along the other wall ran a mirror. There were no windows.
‘Welcome back,’ said a bearded man with large brown eyes. ‘I’m Doctor Harris.’
‘How did …’ he said, attempting to sit up, but it was difficult.
‘Slowly, slowly,’ said Harris, helping him to lie back again. ‘You’ve been asleep for a long time ...’
‘Where …’
Talking was difficult. His voice cracked strangely, as if trying to find the right note.
‘We are in a special medical facility,’ said Doctor Harris, ‘for unique cases like yourself. But before I explain that, I need to ask you some questions. Would that be all right?’
‘Sure,’ he grunted, though he had more than a couple of his own right now.
‘What is your name?’
He scoffed. Of course he knew his name. It was … his name was …
How could I forget my own name?
‘I … I don’t know,’ he croaked. His voice was deeper than he’d expected, as if it wasn’t really his own.
‘How old are you?’
‘I … twelve? No, thirteen. I think.’
Harris exchanged a glance with a young red-haired woman who’d now approached.
‘It’s Reggie,’ said Harris. ‘Your name is Reggie.’
Of course! thought Reggie.
Doctor Harris continued. ‘Can you tell me the last thing you remember?’
Reggie frowned. He tried to remember but ... there was nothing? He couldn’t remember anything about his own life.
Reggie took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to delve deeper. There was something there. A spark. He focused on it, and suddenly his mind was full of flames. They were everywhere, on all sides, a wall of flames with no way through.
‘Fire!’ Reggie yelled, panicking. ‘Fire!’
‘It’s okay,’ said Harris. ‘You have been through some trauma, but we can help. That’s why we’re here. To help.’
‘Why can’t I remember anything?’ said Reggie.
Doctor Harris nodded to the young red-haired woman, who wheeled a monitor to the side of the bed.
‘I’m going to show you something now,’ said Harris. ‘See if it brings back any memories. Okay?’
Reggie nodded.
On the monitor was a man lying in bed. The man seemed tall, his body filling the bed, and he had wavy, dark blond hair, just like Reggie. He seemed older than Reggie, perhaps eighteen or nineteen, but the resemblance was uncanny. The man could easily have passed for Reggie’s older brother!
There were doctors and technicians bustling around the man’s bed.
‘Look at this brain activity,’ said one of them. ‘He’s waking up. Doctor Harris! He’s waking up!’
On screen, the man sat up. The sheet slid off him and revealed a large blue and purple scar that ran all the way up his side. The man’s eyes flew open and he looked furious. Doctor Harris appeared by his side.
‘Mr Autumn,’ he said. ‘I’m Doctor Harris. We weren’t expecting—’
The blond man on screen raised his right hand, cutting off Doctor Harris.
What’s he doing? Reggie wondered.
Then, without warning, a great fount of fire burst out of the man’s hand! Reggie blinked, unable to understand what he was seeing.
On screen, the fire raged across the room to the computer bank. Workers cried out and Doctor Harris dived for the floor. The man directed the fire stream this way and that while he bellowed in wordless rage. Then he raised his left hand and a great jet of water shot out!
Fire swept towards the camera and the screen fell to static. Before the audio cut out, Reggie heard something that made his heart stop.
Doctor Harris could be heard screaming two words over and over: ‘Reggie! Stop!’
Reggie was speechless. Reggie? He turned to Harris. ‘I don’t …’
Reggie suddenly looked down at his hands. They were covered with strange metallic casings.
‘No—’ Reggie’s voice cracked.
‘Mirror!’ he shouted. ‘Get me a mirror!’
The red-haired woman looked to Harris, who nodded and held a small mirror up to Reggie’s face.
Reggie stared.
‘What the hell is going on?’ he said. ‘I’m...’
‘It’s quite a lot to take in,’ said Doctor Harris. ‘You’ve been asleep for some time, Reggie.’
Reggie stared at the face in the mirror. Then blinked. He turned his head one way, then the other. Without thinking, he raised his hands to his face. The metal casings were cold.
‘What are these?’
‘Just a precaution,’ said Harris. ‘Once I am satisfied you are in control of yourself—’
‘And that?’ Reggie interrupted, nodding at the screen.
‘Nothing to worry about. You were not truly awake. More likely in a kind of waking nightmare.’
‘But the fire? The water? My hands …’
‘Yes, there have been some … interesting changes to your physiology – your body – since the incident.’
‘What incident?’
‘Ah.’ Harris cleared this throat. ‘Your home was struck by a freak meteorite. Your family were inside. You tried to save them, but I’m sorry to say that they did not survive.’
‘My family?’ Reggie was stunned, unable to process what he was hearing.
‘You’re going too fast,’ the red-haired woman whispered to Doctor Harris, but he gestured for her to stay silent.
‘I do not feel there is any point mincing words, Mr Autumn. The meteorite contained a substance – an alien element previously unknown to man. Being exposed to this substance triggered a mutation in you. Essentially, turning you into…’ Harris rewound the tape and paused on Reggie shooting fire and water. ‘… this.’
Reggie shook his head. ‘This is … impossible.’
‘There is a lot we do not yet understand,’ said Doctor Harris. ‘But “impossible”? No. In the six years since the meteorite struck—’
‘Six years?’
‘Yes. You have been in a coma, which may explain your current amnesia,’ Doctor Harris said matter-of-factly. ‘In any case, we’ve had a long time to study samples of the now-inert substance and we made some … discoveries. We believe that the substance reacted with you not just physiologically, but also psychologically. Those who knew you told me that you wanted to be a firefighter. I think it was no accident that you wanted to fight fires and now you can shoot fire from one hand and water from the other.’
Reggie lay back, speechless. This was too much.
‘Forgive me,’ said Harris. ‘Doctor Levi here –’ he ge
stured to the woman ‘– and I have known you for a long time. I forget that you do not know us. For now, let’s get you up and walking. Perhaps even arrange a meal not served through a drip? And I’m sure you have questions?’
‘Oh, you could say that,’ said Reggie.
Reggie and Doctor Levi were in an enclosed firing range in the facility’s basement. It had been a strange few days for Reggie – to say the least – but with some physical therapy and real food he was finally able to stand without help.
‘Ready to take your inhibitors off and stop suppressing your ability to produce fire and water?’ said Doctor Levi.
‘Not to mention my ability to hold a fork,’ said Reggie. ‘Just so you know, I doubt anything is going to happen.’
Doctor Levi smiled, but turned serious as she began undoing the inhibitors.
‘This is a big show of trust, Reggie,’ she said. ‘It’s amazing you didn’t kill anyone when you woke up the first time. While I don’t think you were acting consciously, I need to know you can use your power responsibly.’
‘Jeez,’ said Reggie, ‘you sound like a teacher. Speaking of which … I’ve been thinking. I slept through high school … I don’t have to go back, do I?
Doctor Levi chuckled. ‘One step at a time.’
Reggie grinned. He far preferred Doctor Levi to stuffy old Doctor Harris, who really did remind him of a teacher.
‘So,’ said Levi, ‘we know the foreign microbes in your blood react to your brainwaves – that you can direct them to activate through sheer force of will. But the question remains, how far can you control your will? Are you ready?’
‘As ready as I’ll ever be …’
‘Aim for the targets,’ said Doctor Levi, gesturing towards three straw dummies at the other end of the range. ‘And please, no sudden moves. If you get an eyelash in your eye, you’re going to have to wait to pick it out.’
‘Good advice,’ said Reggie, still unsure. He reached out his right hand towards the targets. ‘Fire,’ he said, feeling silly.
Nothing.
And then, slowly, something seemed to shift. A purple tinge crept into his vision and there was tingling in his palm. Suddenly, a blazing stream of fire came from his palm! Shocked, he almost withdrew his hand, but, with surprising strength, Doctor Levi grabbed his arm and kept his hand pointed down the range.
‘Control!’ she said, over the whoosh of flames. ‘You cannot be burnt, but everything else can. Including me.’
The fire hit a dummy and it burst into flames. Reggie could not believe what he was seeing.
‘Try to alter the intensity,’ said Levi.
Reggie focused his mind and thought about the fire lessening. The stream narrowed.
‘Good,’ said Levi. ‘Now, increase it!’
Reggie concentrated on the idea of more fire, and the stream widened to a cone. Two of the dummies fell to ash, and spraying embers set the third one alight.
‘Very good,’ said Doctor Levi. ‘Now, try to stop.’
Reggie was relieved when the fire sputtered out.
‘Great,’ said Levi. ‘Are you feeling okay?’
‘I … think so?’
‘Ready to try your other hand?’
Reggie nodded. He lifted his left hand and with only the slightest thought, a jet of water surged from it, dousing the last dummy and putting it out.
‘This is unbelievable,’ he said.
‘Not unbelievable,’ said Doctor Levi. ‘Merely unexplained. It’s quite a universe we live in.’
Reggie sat in Doctor Harris’s office, staring at his hands. Harris entered with another man, who was wearing a suit and oversized square glasses.
‘Doctor Levi tells me you’re doing well with your training, young man,’ said Doctor Harris.
Reggie didn’t believe for a second that Harris hadn’t been watching him on the security cameras installed all over the facility.
‘When will I get my memories back?’ Reggie asked bluntly.
‘Ah. Well, amnesia is a tricky one. Chances are they will return over time, but we do have to be patient.’
Reggie let out a dissatisfied grunt. He nodded towards the stranger beside Harris. ‘Who’s he?’
‘My name is Agent Ferris, Mr Autumn,’ said the man.
Mr Autumn, Reggie thought. Still not used to that.
‘I’m with the National Service,’ Agent Ferris continued. ‘We have been interested in your case for some time.’
‘Right …’ said Reggie.
‘I’m told that in your previous life, you were a young man with a sense of civic duty. Somebody who wanted to help people. I hope to help you fulfil that dream.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Consider for a moment what a young man of your … abilities … could accomplish. The lives you could save, the people you could protect. You could be a hero.’
Reggie raised an eyebrow. ‘Doing what?’
‘We’d start small – putting out fires with that water jet of yours, burning through otherwise impassable areas with your flames. Then go from there. In return we will give you a home and a new identity.’
Reggie wasn’t sure he liked this guy. If Harris was like a teacher, this guy was the mean principal. But the idea of getting out of this place and back to the real world was appealing.
‘In fact,’ Agent Ferris said, ‘my scientists have been working on a special uniform for you.’
This got Reggie’s attention.
‘It will disguise you,’ said Ferris, ‘to separate your life as a civilian from your life as a … firefighter.’
Reggie’s heart leapt. ‘A firefighter?’
‘In all possible meanings of the word,’ said Ferris, cryptically.
Reggie frowned.
‘What I mean to say is that you, Mr Autumn, have the potential to be the greatest force for good our society has ever known. Could you really turn away from that?’
Why this had happened to him, Reggie was not sure. He didn’t know whether it was a gift or a curse. But the idea of helping others… That, at least, felt good. It felt right. Even if he didn’t quite remember why.
‘I’ll give it a shot,’ Reggie said.
Agent Ferris smiled broadly.
Amber stared at her reflection in the stream but the ripples from the breeze made it hard to see clearly. She would grab a small mirror on her next raid, she decided. After all, as much as she’d rejected society and its conventions these past two years, she was curious to see what she looked like. Perhaps there was still some part of an ordinary fifteen-year-old girl left in her.
After that fateful night at the school dance, she had fled to her cabin and had been living there ever since.
She was sure that no one had actually seen her enter the woods, but a couple of days later a police search had passed nearby. It hadn’t been difficult to keep them away using swarms of hornets.
Eventually the search parties stopped.
Nobody cares, Amber had told herself, but she knew that wasn’t entirely true. Irene had probably begged the police to keep looking. Poor Irene.
But Justin wouldn’t care. Not after what she’d done to him.
It hadn’t taken long for the cabin to become home. Once it was free of dust, Amber had filled the cracks in the windows with hardened tree sap, which cast slivers of orange light into the room. She’d repaired the decrepit furniture. Outside, her insects even helped her restore a bracken-covered vegetable garden – caterpillars pruned the leaves, locusts chewed away the stalks, ants marched off with debris, and burying beetles dug holes to aerate the soil before hauling dead birds and rodents in to fertilise it.
Amber ate wild fruits and berries, while insect larvae in the stream helped her seek out yabbies and fish. Thanks to her swarms of bees, honey was plentiful.
Still, she regularly ‘borrowed’ food from town. Woodville was an easy mark – it was relatively sleepy and quiet, and no one ever saw her come and go.
She had only once gone back t
o Irene’s. In the dead of night, she had slipped through her bedroom window to retrieve the photo of her parents, and deliver a note.
A simple note. But perhaps not enough …
Despite that lingering guilt, Amber could finally breathe. She was, for the first time in her life, truly free – of responsibility, of other people, of society judging her.
The only problem now was figuring out what to do with all this freedom.
She knew she’d been given an incredible power, but was it a freak accident, or was there something she was supposed to do with it?
The forest thrummed around her, and she knew every creature by their unique frequency. Each of them had their own part to play, she thought, the ants, the bees, even the dung beetles. What is mine?
It was times like this she missed her family more than ever. Mum would have told her what to do, she thought, and Dad would have told her not to worry too much. Then her brother, Reggie …
Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, and dripped down onto the object she’d been turning over in her hands.
A mask. It looked like those you’d find at a masquerade ball, except it was made of termite-carved ironwood and dragonfly wings. She had not killed any dragonflies to make it, of course – her ant friends had been gathering the wings for a long time so she could overlay enough to make it strong.
As she turned the mask this way and that, bright colours shimmered across its crystalline surface. It hid her face well, and would reflect light back at any camera lens that happened to catch her. Town was full of security cameras – even more since she’d started her little ‘shopping sprees’. Amber was always careful to keep her true face hidden, especially her distinctive scar. Being recognised was just too risky.