I’ve determined, the abnormal could still shock and surprise me. At least if my scream in terror was any indication. Then again most would scream if their feet were suddenly in the air as well as the rest of your body.
“You’re never going to catch the train if you give up after one try,” the aberration with his hands under my arms stated. “I swear you youngins give up to easily.”
Below me a canyon had been carved out by a river and the bridge the train was crossing had arches to hold up what seemed like mile tall pillars. Once I again I was frozen. Stiff as a board afraid if I moved he’d lose is grip on me.
“That your friend?” he asked. “She’s the healer right?”
Was she? Could she be? What was happening? When did we get a flyer? Wasn’t that just a leaper?
“Wow we could turn you over to the enemies with no fear of you giving up secrets.”
The flyer tossed me up a bit and I screamed for the two seconds, or seven hours, it was yet to be determined because time was a construct I couldn’t capture at the moment. While I feared he was letting me drop to my death, the reality was I was near catatonic and for that reason he wrapped his long arm around my front. Holding me tight to him and freeing his right hand to catch the bar on the railcar and fling us both inside.
Spinning out my feet tripped up when they met land. Summer caught me and my savior in her arms.
“Aggie, Oh my God, I thought you’d be gone forever.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks and when she released me she did so with a shove. “Don’t you ever do that again. Leave me like that. I won’t have it.”
“When did you get a grower,” my savior asked having released me and now inspecting a vine full of grapes as if the nightmare he’d rescued me from had been a short commercial break. “This is some old school abilities.”
“Stop—where—what? You know I can’t—” crashing to the floor I pressed my back to wall and curled my knees into my chest. I had no fight or flight, but I didn’t have a good armadillo ball roll in me.
Every part of me hurt and was confused. Which was confusing in and of itself because how can a muscle be unsure? The cramping, told the story. My muscles wondering should I allow her the ability to walk or move? Nah, I’ll send her down a path of crippling pain with no relief. I’ll twitch a bit too for shits and giggles. My muscles were jerks and my hands were still undetectable. It was hard to decide if I was falling apart or in a torture chamber of my own creation.
Only relief appeared, Summer took my hand in hers. My arm lifting telling me of the contact. Tracing the raw skin with her fingers, each pass bringing my hand back in painful stings, then lessening the sensation to a tingle before healing my palm. By the fifth pass I was able to watch the skin regenerating before me. The rest of me could recover on its own. Muscles needed stretching. Being able to breathe in and out without a stitch in my side. That would happen eventually. But my hands were back and I knew where they were without looking at them finally.
Carl appeared from an end room with bottles of water. The younger sibling of the now orphaned set of brothers. Gordon, his older brother was one of our movers and Carl the casualty now growing up a bit too fast. While he’s mute from trauma, his heart is so sweet I wasn’t surprised when offered drinks to all of us.
The flyer ruffled the redheaded mop on Carl’s head in thanks before picking off two bunches of grapes to go with the water. Offering one bunch to Carl who took it then went to the open door of the railcar and shoved it closed. Noise now muffled, no longer was the wind blowing past us in an deafening thrum.
“So, that sucked.” The flyer moved along the doorways knocking on each one to see if anyone else was in the car. “I’m assuming this isn’t your place since little man is here and ya’ll aren’t taking advantage of co-ed situations.”
The man popped a few grapes in his mouth and kept talking.
“You kids.” He shook his head and leaned by the light taped to the wall.
His features pronounced a bit, but still young. Was he an elder? Dark, smooth skin showed no sign of acne, but there was a scar. Three to be exact from the top of his eyebrow to right above his upper lip. Jagged, but equally placed. Another elder, holding on to a scar any healer could fix. Clad in a long leather duster, with tight black pants and dark Henley. The boots were standard issue, ass kicking ones from the soles, only they laced up practically to his knees.
“Nothing better than groceries on demand,” he said plucking a third bunch off the wall. “Do you two talk? Or just scream at each other?”
“Who are you?” Summer asked spiking my fear because she was in on all screenings of aberrations. Not to mention this man knew quite a bit about us and more than could be obtained in a few minutes of paying rescue hero.
“How do you not know him?” I blanched pushing back only to come to the realization I wasn’t going to be able to push myself through a wall. Even if I did, I’d be falling from a train moving at a pretty good pace.
“I’m Superman don’t you recognize me?” he joked, standing tall fisted, well partially fisted since one hand had grapes, hands on his hips and head turned to the side in full on profile. “I’m missing my cape that must be it.”
Carl giggled, probably the first time I’d ever heard any noise from the kid.
“Honestly it got in the way,” he continued as he leaned his shoulder on the wall again. “Gave them up before it was popular, maybe I started a trend.”
“And by popular you’re talking…” I spun my hand at the wrist to get him to say what we feared.
“Probably around fourteen hundred and something, I mean the nobility of course had their ways, but then again I avoided Europe for a few centuries. This world is covered in land and still people jammed into one of the smallest continents. We do that you know?” he said. “Jam ourselves into cities. Living on top of each other.”
“Name?” I questioned again, this time finding my feet on the now moving train.
“It amazes me, the whole theory of community. Then again, those that rode in packs tended to hunt those who didn’t.”
“Name?” Summer said standing next to me.
“Oh, sorry, undiagnosed attention deficit disorder,” he replied, his voice dropping an octave. “Of course in my day it was called that boy will learn his place.”
“Name.” both Summer and I barked again.
“Imani.” Holding his hands up in surrender.
Summer slapped at his hand when he reached for a fourth bunch of grapes.
“A healer with claws.” He waggled his finger at her. “I like that, what I like more is living though. I’ve been tracking this little train—”
“With Vince,” I accused.
“Dear lord beautiful who hurt you?” he asked. “I stay many steps away from him and his Army of Cretans. Most do.”
“Elders you mean?” I asked.
“I can’t even be mad, I want to be, trust me,” he said then sighed. “But in the sixties I wore a don’t trust anyone over thirty button so I’d be a bit of a hypocrite wouldn’t I.”
“Being nineteen hundred and sixty yourself you liked the irony?” Summer mocked.
“You’re adorable.” Imani slapped his hands together. “That being said. Yes, the whole black don’t crack really plays out on us aberrations. I should have snuck into your group ages ago, but…”
“You don’t believe in communities.”
He gave me a shrug with his palms upturned. “I hate dictators more and I’ve noticed that Vincent has grown a fan club. Even the greatest—” he gagged a bit. “Elders can’t seem to get him under control.”
“There are others beyond Ms. Weston that are willing to help us?” Summer asked.
“We can only do so much. Something tells me the jerk might just have his claws in politics.”
“We have our claws in politics,” Summer rebuffed. “Trent Marcus is an aberration.”
“I’ve heard the rumors, but there is a candidate running against him with highly favorable polls.” Imani tilted his head to the side. “Someone I’ve seen more than once in my life.”
Summer’s phone rang and she quickly moved away to answer it as I kept a safe distance from Imani. He eyed me. Entrancing me in a way as his long arm reached out and he snagged the grapes he’d been spanked for a moment ago.
“You’re never going to catch the train if you give up after one try,” the aberration with his hands under my arms stated. “I swear you youngins give up to easily.”
Below me a canyon had been carved out by a river and the bridge the train was crossing had arches to hold up what seemed like mile tall pillars. Once I again I was frozen. Stiff as a board afraid if I moved he’d lose is grip on me.
“That your friend?” he asked. “She’s the healer right?”
Was she? Could she be? What was happening? When did we get a flyer? Wasn’t that just a leaper?
“Wow we could turn you over to the enemies with no fear of you giving up secrets.”
The flyer tossed me up a bit and I screamed for the two seconds, or seven hours, it was yet to be determined because time was a construct I couldn’t capture at the moment. While I feared he was letting me drop to my death, the reality was I was near catatonic and for that reason he wrapped his long arm around my front. Holding me tight to him and freeing his right hand to catch the bar on the railcar and fling us both inside.
Spinning out my feet tripped up when they met land. Summer caught me and my savior in her arms.
“Aggie, Oh my God, I thought you’d be gone forever.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks and when she released me she did so with a shove. “Don’t you ever do that again. Leave me like that. I won’t have it.”
“When did you get a grower,” my savior asked having released me and now inspecting a vine full of grapes as if the nightmare he’d rescued me from had been a short commercial break. “This is some old school abilities.”
“Stop—where—what? You know I can’t—” crashing to the floor I pressed my back to wall and curled my knees into my chest. I had no fight or flight, but I didn’t have a good armadillo ball roll in me.
Every part of me hurt and was confused. Which was confusing in and of itself because how can a muscle be unsure? The cramping, told the story. My muscles wondering should I allow her the ability to walk or move? Nah, I’ll send her down a path of crippling pain with no relief. I’ll twitch a bit too for shits and giggles. My muscles were jerks and my hands were still undetectable. It was hard to decide if I was falling apart or in a torture chamber of my own creation.
Only relief appeared, Summer took my hand in hers. My arm lifting telling me of the contact. Tracing the raw skin with her fingers, each pass bringing my hand back in painful stings, then lessening the sensation to a tingle before healing my palm. By the fifth pass I was able to watch the skin regenerating before me. The rest of me could recover on its own. Muscles needed stretching. Being able to breathe in and out without a stitch in my side. That would happen eventually. But my hands were back and I knew where they were without looking at them finally.
Carl appeared from an end room with bottles of water. The younger sibling of the now orphaned set of brothers. Gordon, his older brother was one of our movers and Carl the casualty now growing up a bit too fast. While he’s mute from trauma, his heart is so sweet I wasn’t surprised when offered drinks to all of us.
The flyer ruffled the redheaded mop on Carl’s head in thanks before picking off two bunches of grapes to go with the water. Offering one bunch to Carl who took it then went to the open door of the railcar and shoved it closed. Noise now muffled, no longer was the wind blowing past us in an deafening thrum.
“So, that sucked.” The flyer moved along the doorways knocking on each one to see if anyone else was in the car. “I’m assuming this isn’t your place since little man is here and ya’ll aren’t taking advantage of co-ed situations.”
The man popped a few grapes in his mouth and kept talking.
“You kids.” He shook his head and leaned by the light taped to the wall.
His features pronounced a bit, but still young. Was he an elder? Dark, smooth skin showed no sign of acne, but there was a scar. Three to be exact from the top of his eyebrow to right above his upper lip. Jagged, but equally placed. Another elder, holding on to a scar any healer could fix. Clad in a long leather duster, with tight black pants and dark Henley. The boots were standard issue, ass kicking ones from the soles, only they laced up practically to his knees.
“Nothing better than groceries on demand,” he said plucking a third bunch off the wall. “Do you two talk? Or just scream at each other?”
“Who are you?” Summer asked spiking my fear because she was in on all screenings of aberrations. Not to mention this man knew quite a bit about us and more than could be obtained in a few minutes of paying rescue hero.
“How do you not know him?” I blanched pushing back only to come to the realization I wasn’t going to be able to push myself through a wall. Even if I did, I’d be falling from a train moving at a pretty good pace.
“I’m Superman don’t you recognize me?” he joked, standing tall fisted, well partially fisted since one hand had grapes, hands on his hips and head turned to the side in full on profile. “I’m missing my cape that must be it.”
Carl giggled, probably the first time I’d ever heard any noise from the kid.
“Honestly it got in the way,” he continued as he leaned his shoulder on the wall again. “Gave them up before it was popular, maybe I started a trend.”
“And by popular you’re talking…” I spun my hand at the wrist to get him to say what we feared.
“Probably around fourteen hundred and something, I mean the nobility of course had their ways, but then again I avoided Europe for a few centuries. This world is covered in land and still people jammed into one of the smallest continents. We do that you know?” he said. “Jam ourselves into cities. Living on top of each other.”
“Name?” I questioned again, this time finding my feet on the now moving train.
“It amazes me, the whole theory of community. Then again, those that rode in packs tended to hunt those who didn’t.”
“Name?” Summer said standing next to me.
“Oh, sorry, undiagnosed attention deficit disorder,” he replied, his voice dropping an octave. “Of course in my day it was called that boy will learn his place.”
“Name.” both Summer and I barked again.
“Imani.” Holding his hands up in surrender.
Summer slapped at his hand when he reached for a fourth bunch of grapes.
“A healer with claws.” He waggled his finger at her. “I like that, what I like more is living though. I’ve been tracking this little train—”
“With Vince,” I accused.
“Dear lord beautiful who hurt you?” he asked. “I stay many steps away from him and his Army of Cretans. Most do.”
“Elders you mean?” I asked.
“I can’t even be mad, I want to be, trust me,” he said then sighed. “But in the sixties I wore a don’t trust anyone over thirty button so I’d be a bit of a hypocrite wouldn’t I.”
“Being nineteen hundred and sixty yourself you liked the irony?” Summer mocked.
“You’re adorable.” Imani slapped his hands together. “That being said. Yes, the whole black don’t crack really plays out on us aberrations. I should have snuck into your group ages ago, but…”
“You don’t believe in communities.”
He gave me a shrug with his palms upturned. “I hate dictators more and I’ve noticed that Vincent has grown a fan club. Even the greatest—” he gagged a bit. “Elders can’t seem to get him under control.”
“There are others beyond Ms. Weston that are willing to help us?” Summer asked.
“We can only do so much. Something tells me the jerk might just have his claws in politics.”
“We have our claws in politics,” Summer rebuffed. “Trent Marcus is an aberration.”
“I’ve heard the rumors, but there is a candidate running against him with highly favorable polls.” Imani tilted his head to the side. “Someone I’ve seen more than once in my life.”
Summer’s phone rang and she quickly moved away to answer it as I kept a safe distance from Imani. He eyed me. Entrancing me in a way as his long arm reached out and he snagged the grapes he’d been spanked for a moment ago.
