Kim pointed at a doorway connected to the observation room. “That’s the men’s locker room. Just inside, you’ll find a change of clothes and sparring gear. Get changed, and I’ll see you back here in a few.”
“Sounds good.” Stephen sped to the locker room where he found a bag with his name on it. A bag with Vincent’s name lay open and empty next to his. Stephen pulled out a set of black training clothes from his own bag and changed. All Mighty knew the three colors associated with the classes: blue for prophets, yellow for warriors, and red for priests. Why black?
Stephen walked over to the sink and looked in the mirror. Why am I nervous? This isn’t a real fight. He wanted to impress people. More than that, he didn’t want to let anyone down. He knew how the anger felt when he fought, how his flesh wanted to take control. It felt good to give in.
When he walked back into the observation room, Vincent sat alone. His sparring gear lay on the floor next to him.
“Good luck,” Vincent grunted through what appeared to be a forced smile.
“Thanks. Are you gonna stay and watch?”
“If you don’t mind, I thought I might for a few minutes.”
Stephen laughed. “You’re still recovering, aren’t you?”
Vincent nodded and took a sip of water from his jug.
“Mr. Cross.”
Stephen turned back to the floor.
“Please take a few minutes to warm up and stretch.” Kim stood in the middle of the mat with Shannon. “I recommend a few laps around the room, some squats, push-ups, and jumping jacks to get your blood flowing. Then, take a minute to do some stretches, legs, arms, back—stretch it all out.”
Stephen nodded and began jogging around the room as Mr. Kim and Shannon chatted in the center. Stephen tried to listen to her thoughts, hoping to hear something about strategy. It didn’t work. Kim must be guarding Shannon’s mind too.
He continued his exercises until he felt sufficiently loose. He couldn’t help feeling something was wrong. It didn’t make sense to have him do combat training with a priest. Stephen’s warrior abilities alone would be too much for Kim.
Stephen approached the two still standing in the middle.
Shannon smiled mischievously. “Good luck, Stephen.” She turned and walked toward the outer edge of the mat, near the observation area.
“Are you ready?” Kim asked.
Stephen nodded.
“No questions?”
Stephen thought for moment, and looked toward Vincent before turning back to his instructor. “Yeah. Why am I wearing black?”
“No one is certain which class to put you in just yet. So, I pulled you a black uniform. Honestly, I’m jealous. I’m not partial to red.” Mr. Kim smiled and paused before continuing. “Anything else?”
Stephen shook his head.
He had barely gotten the word out before Kim’s fist smacked the side of his helmet. Stephen jumped back. He had tried to evade it, but was too slow. How? The strike wasn’t hard, but it got his attention. He heard snickers coming from the observation area. He maneuvered so that he could see both Vincent and Shannon without losing sight of Kim. He shrugged and they laughed more.
“Very good, Stephen. You didn’t turn your head to look at them. You changed your line of sight instead.”
Stephen swung. He felt slow and weak. What was happening? Kim parried his punch and the battle began. They went back and forth with punches and kicks. Both landed and missed their fair share of strikes. Stephen, however, felt as though he improved as the match went on. Still, it did little to help his now bruised ego. The argument could be made that Kim was beginning to tire, having already sparred Vincent.
Kim lunged at Stephen, throwing a punch at his head. Stephen, in anticipation, jumped into the air and connected with a spinning side kick, which launched Kim several feet backward, landing him on his side. For the first time in the match, Stephen smiled. He tried not to enjoy it, but it was hard. He watched as Kim struggled to his feet. As Stephen stepped forward, Kim held up his hand.
“I’m done,” Kim said. “You’re as good as they said, and tough too.”
“Thanks,” Stephen said half-heartedly.
“Seriously, I stopped pulling punches almost immediately.”
Stephen reached up and wiped a trickle of blood from his nose, then smiled. “I noticed.”
Kim walked over to him. “Then why do I get the impression you aren’t happy with your performance?”
“I’m usually much faster and stronger than this. Something’s off. I think I’m sick.”
Laughter came from the observation area. The two men turned their attention toward Shannon and Vincent.
“Why are they laughing?”
Kim sighed. “I’m guessing it’s because they didn’t tell you about the combat room.”
Stephen looked at his instructor, confused. “What about it?”
“It neutralizes abilities to allow better focus on combat training and techniques.”
“What?” Stephen asked, dumbstruck.
He turned back toward the observation area to see Shannon walking toward him on the mat. She unzipped her hoodie. She wore black training clothes underneath.
“Sorry, Stephen,” Shannon offered. “I couldn’t resist. Today is when we evaluate your skill level. I wanted to see your true skill level, no powers.”
“Well, then,” Stephen said with slight agitation. “How’d I do?”
“Well, you passed the intermediate level.”
Stephen looked at Kim. “You’re intermediate?”
Kim bowed modestly and smiled at Stephen. Then he nodded toward Shannon. “You’ll enjoy this one.”
Stephen wasn’t sure if Kim made that remark to him or Shannon. He looked back at Shannon in time to see her foot, just before it smacked into the side of his head. He heard ringing as he struggled to stay on his feet, staggering around. He shook his head, an effort to compose himself.
Kim walked over to Vincent and called back to Shannon and Stephen. “We’ll leave you two to train. Good luck!”
“Thanks!” Stephen called out. He looked back at Shannon. “I have to fight you?”
“You don’t have to. It’ll be more fun if you do though.” Shannon smiled. Stephen felt nervous once more, as the ringing faded away. He cautiously approached her, and the fight resumed.
Chapter 2
The fog on the mirror made it hard for Stephen to see. No matter how many times he wiped it away with his towel, it fogged right back up. Still, the shiner around his left eye appeared obvious enough, even through the fogged-up glass. His shaggy brown hair wasn’t quite long enough to cover it up. His swollen bottom lip made the cut on it more obvious. He had an abrasion on his right cheekbone. He dared not count the bruises on his body.
“Eh.” He pulled away after dabbing his blackened eye with a towel. The physical discomfort felt bad enough. His pride, however, had suffered a harder blow. How could he ever live it down? He had been beaten by a girl.
Stephen slammed his fist on the counter, leaving a deep and crackled impression next to the sink. Calm down. Although he had been controlling his abilities well enough, he still feared that the madness that drove him back to Waltz—the memories and voices of all those whose minds he had forced his way into—might return. He splashed some water on his face before drying off and putting on clean clothes. Aches and pains settled over his body, causing his movements to be tentative.
Just as he eased down on the bed to relax and unwind, someone knocked on the door. Really? He slowly got up and made his way to the door, hoping for some good news on the other side. Stephen opened the door to his temporary compartment. Patty stood grinning, as though she already knew about his defeat. Still, it was Patty, which was good news.
“Hey, babe,” she said as she brushed his wet hair away from his left eye. “You okay?”
She didn’t sound concerned as much as patronizing.
Stephen pulled away and grabbed her hand to hold it. “
Yeah, I’m fine.” He paused while Patty kissed his injured eye. “So, news travels fast.”
“Yes, it does.”
“Well, she’s good. I guess I never knew just how much my powers helped me.”
“Stephen, don’t be hard on yourself. Shannon, Mr. Kim, the other Mighty, they’ve all had training. This was a combat training assessment. Only a few of us who know how big your ego can be found it funny. Everyone else seems to be impressed with how well you did.”
“I guess,” Stephen replied. “I just don’t understand. She said that she occasionally trained people in combat. I really didn’t expect her to be that good . . . and brutal.”
Patty smirked. “Because she’s a girl?”
“Hold up, Patty.” Stephen responded with haste, knowing hesitation could send the conversation sideways in a hurry. “You know I’m not like that. She just doesn’t look the part is all.”
“I know.” Patty winked. “I just like to see you squirm.”
“As do I.” Vincent walked in the door. He looked better than Stephen, but not much. His nose was bruised with some darkening around his left eye.
“Just be glad you didn’t have to fight Shannon,” Stephen said.
Patty giggled, glancing quickly at Vincent and then away.
“What was that?” Stephen asked, looking at both of them.
“What?” the two replied in near unison.
“Something’s up.”
The two remained silent.
“Come on! I can’t even read you two . . .” Stephen debated in his head only a moment. He could read Patty, but had promised not to. “Really?”
“Well, I am hungry. I worked up an appetite earlier. I figured you had too.” Vincent looked at Stephen. “Would you two like to get a bite in the mess hall?”
“We’d love to,” Patty said in a chipper voice, taking Stephen by the arm.
Stephen knew when to give in. Patty was probably the most stubborn person he had ever come across, other than himself. “Yeah,” he said half-heartedly. “I’m hungry. Let’s go.”
The trio navigated the halls a little easier each day. They had yet to venture through all the underground tunnels and hidden places. But they knew their way around well enough. Meals were about the only time the three could get together. Patty studied what she was allowed to learn of the Mighty and continued to manage the operations for the warehousing division of Stephen’s company—Stockton Family Holdings, LLC, back in St. Louis. Stephen spent what spare moments he had checking in with the head of the various subsidiaries to make sure the business continued to thrive. Some days, the three didn’t see each other at all. Still, he hoped that once this impending battle was over, they could return to their somewhat normal lives.
As they walked down the hall, they passed more kids. Some seemed so small. The older teens blended in with the adults much easier, though Stephen could feel the difference just being around them. Their thoughts and emotions were much more sporadic, less controlled.
Stephen heard footsteps rushing up from behind. He turned to see a darker_skinned, lean young man running toward them.
“Hey, guys!” the boy called out as he slowed his pace, drawing near.
Stephen gave the teen a fist bump. “What’s up, Jax?”
Vincent stepped forward to give the young man a fist bump. “Hello, Jax.” No matter what Vincent did, he always looked awkward and rigid.
Stephen turned to Patty. “You’ve heard me talk about Jax. We’ve had some classes together.”
Jax shook her hand, a bright smile on his face. “Hello, Mrs. Patty . . .”
“Just Patty, please. I’m not that much older than you,” Patty replied.
“Okay, Patty.” Jax nodded toward Stephen. “You know, this guy here is crazy about you. He’s concerned you might be feeling out of place.”
Stephen rolled his eyes, covering his face with his hand. Why did he think telling a teenager something like that was a good idea? He nudged Jax. “Not cool.”
Vincent looked at Stephen. “I have told you more than once that you do talk too much.”
“I guess I do.”
“Patty,” Jax said. “Did you know Waltz well too?”
Stephen felt Patty’s emotions swell. He dipped inside her mind, sharing what he felt when he remembered his time with Waltz, the feeling of being loved.
Patty glanced at Stephen and mouthed, “Thank you,” before turning back to Jax. “Yes, I knew him well. He was a good man who seemed to only know how to love.”
“That’s how I remember him too,” Jax replied. “I was young the last time I saw him.”
“But you are young now,” Vincent said.
“Vincent,” Patty snapped. “You know what he meant.”
“I do,” Vincent replied. “I was merely pointing out—”
“Stop!” Patty said.
Vincent grimaced, but Stephen and Jax laughed.
“I see who the boss is in this group,” Jax said. “It was nice meeting you, Patty.” He turned to Stephen. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” He nodded down the hall, an infectious smile adorning his face. “I gotta get to session. It’s warrior training. I get to try turning it up a notch today! Between prophets, priests, and warriors, I’m sure glad I’m a warrior. There’s nothing better.”
“Well, have fun!” Stephen tapped Jax’s chest. “Do some damage for me.”
Jax took off back the way he had come. “You know I will!”
“That’s a good kid,” Stephen said. “He’s my favorite so far.”
“Really? Why is that?” Vincent asked.
“There’s something familiar about him. Plus, he doesn’t have a hateful bone in his body. I just hope he doesn’t let life break him down.”
“Well, maybe you can help him with that.” Patty wrapped her arm around Stephen’s.
“Maybe . . .” Stephen turned the corner. Before he managed to get fully turned around, he felt someone bump into him. “Whoa . . .” He reached to grab the man, catching him just before he hit the ground, but not before sunglasses fell from the man’s face. His solid white eyes made his skin seem all the darker. Vincent grabbed the glasses from the floor and placed them in the man’s hand.
“Thank you, Vincent,” the older man said, raising the glasses back on his face.
Vincent nodded and attempted a smile.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t notice . . .” Stephen paused, looking at the man, who continued to look straight ahead. He listened briefly to the man’s thoughts. “You’re—”
“Blind,” the man interrupted. “I sensed you poking around in there. You must be Stephen.”
“Excuse me,” Patty said. “But if you’re blind—”
“How do I know that you’re Patty, he’s Stephen, and the awkward gentleman that nodded at me as though I can see is Vincent?”
Stephen and Patty looked at Vincent who blushed a little.
“I’m Joe, Jackson’s dad. I thought I heard him.”
“He just took off,” Stephen said.
“Oh.” Joe reached for Stephen’s arm. “I was just wanting to chat. Would you mind if I accompanied you three to the mess hall?”
“You’re a prophet?” Patty asked.
Joe smiled. “I prefer seer. I’ve never parted water or anything like that. I just see things.”
“That is ironic.” Vincent had barely gotten the words out when Stephen and Patty both glared at him.
Joe chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it is ironic for a seer to be blind.”
Joe turned in the direction of the mess hall, still holding onto Stephen’s arm. As the group walked, Joe assured them that they’d settle in sooner than later.
Upon nearing the cafeteria, Joe asked for a moment alone with Stephen. Vincent and Patty obliged and continued onward. Stephen suspected Joe wanted to talk about his son. Jax looked up to Stephen and seemed to have a strong, almost brotherly affection for him, though Stephen wasn’t sure why.
“Stephen, you don’t rememb
er Jackson, do you?”
Stephen had never seen Jax before they started classes in Enclave. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“You used to call him little Jack.”
Stephen felt his legs go weak. The impact was strong and immediate. Looking at Joe, he could barely see it, the resemblance. Joe was much smaller. Still, something about his smile looked familiar, jogging his memory. “You’re Joe Thompson, Bernie’s cousin.”
Joe nodded. “I am.”
“And Jax is little Jack!” He paused while running his hand through his hair, as though this would help the news settle in easier. “He came to visit us one summer. Bernard and I were in high school. Jack was like nine or ten. That boy followed me everywhere.”
“He came home and talked about you for a while after that.” Joe smiled. “He wanted to go back the next summer. I almost let him.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“His ability started to show that year. It wasn’t enough that anyone would’ve noticed at the time. But, once it starts, you don’t always know how quickly it will progress. I knew Waltz and Bernie would understand. I was concerned about you.” He smiled again and paused to bite his lower lip for a moment. “It’s kind of funny how things turn out. When Jackson learned about being Mighty, he was upset because he couldn’t share it with you. You should’ve seen him when he heard you were coming here.”
Stephen smiled. “How did I not know? Sure, he’s a lot bigger now, but . . .” The realization that Joe was Bernie’s family hit him. After all, he was the one responsible for having Bernie locked up. He had never even considered that Bernie would have family who were also gifted. He felt sadness fall on him as he struggled for words. “Joe, I-I, about Uncle Bernie . . .”
“Hey, Stephen. Don’t you worry none about that. No, it ain’t pleasant, but Bernie made his choices himself. You didn’t make him do anything.” Joe spoke with certainty. “And right now, Jackson needs someone to look up to more than ever. You and I are the closest family he has. Hey! Why don’t y’all come visit us down south sometime? It’d be nice to have y’ins.”
Stephen smiled. Since being at Enclave, he had found new friends and was excited at the prospect of having family. Knowing Jax had been family all along put him at ease.
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