SAMANTHA: CHAPTER 2

  After filling my dinner tray, I find my friends at our usual table.

  “Someone is awful cheery. What did you do this afternoon?” Lena asks. My thoughts turn to Wren. Her mouth nipping my ear, trailing down my neck, kissing the dip above my collarbone…

  “Or who?” Kai adds. I lean forward to exhale on his water glass across the table. A thin layer of ice forms on top. They all look around for someone wearing pale blue - one of the three elemental classes.

  Wren possesses such control, such mastery of her power. Most people here are capable of hurting someone with their gifts, but she knows how to use one icy fingertip to wake up my body like no one else can.

  “Can't blame you. Blues are awesome in bed.” I share a knowing smile with Cody. His confidence and power have both been growing exponentially lately. A few days ago he dyed his hair blue - an aqua color I imagine is similar to the ocean. He coats it in so much gel that he looks perpetually wet, an embodiment of the water he wields.

  Lena taps Kai and I follow their gaze. Wren looks over to our table at the same time, catching all of us staring. She laughs and I just shake my head. We all live, train, dine, and work together here at Headquarters, so relationships are nearly impossible to keep secret. The last thing we need around here is more secrets though.

  “I'm glad you're in a good mood, but weren't you and James…” Lena's question trails off.

  “He's keeping things from me again. And no, we never really got back together.”

  “You know he doesn't have a choice.”

  “I rather he pretend not to know anything. Telling me to stop digging just makes me want to dig.” I explain to her and to the others who are pretending not to listen. “Here he comes. Don't make it weird.”

  “Evening, everyone.” James doesn't need any of his psychic abilities to read the table. He sits down anyway.

  “Should've used your powers for dinner tonight. The roast was a bad choice,” Cody tells him.

  “I'll stick my hands in all of tomorrow's options,” James replies dryly.

  We eat in silence for a few minutes before we're joined by an eccentric redhead with frizzy curls.

  “Zo!” Kai greets. She smiles politely.

  Elzora turns her attention to me. She's always wide-eyed and jittery as if she just finished a pot of coffee. This evening her blue irises look dull, nearly matching her steely uniform.

  “When was the last time you've been on a mission?”

  “Months, I guess.” And even longer since leaving Headquarters for anything more than surveillance.

  “Have any of you been assigned anything recently?” Zo asks the table. Everyone shakes their heads. “And I just heard he's pulling people back, people who have been at posts for years.”

  I glance at James, but he's not looking up from his plate. “I know less than you do, Zo,” I tell her honestly. “Sorry.”

  “That's what I figured. It's weird though, right?”

  “All the secrecy sucks, but I really don't know anything. Wish I did.”

  The James situation already made dinner awkward, but Elzora put an end to any normal conversation and to my appetite.

  “I'm going to hit the gym.” I stand with my tray still half full.

  “Want company?” Lena asks.

  “I'll catch you later.” I dump my leftovers and exit the cafeteria to the atrium where dusk is creating long shadows. Mr. Garner's office lights are still on, as expected. It's much quieter than in the cafeteria, but there are groups of people clustered in the sitting areas and passing through the space. I consider going to my apartment for an early night instead of the gym.

  “May I have your attention please?”

  I startle as a voice booms so loud it sounds as if… the voice is inside my head. Someone is projecting directly into my head. And I'm not the only one who hears it. Other people are looking around for the source.

  “Please inform those powerful enough to block me that they are missing a very important message.” Everyone around me looks confused or panicked, so they must be hearing the same thing. “Except Mr. Garner, of course. He's already heard and ignored multiple iterations of this offer.”

  My stomach drops. Whatever this is about, our leader knows and chose not to share it.

  “If my final offer is not accepted, we will physically invade as easily as I've mentally invaded this evening. It's only fair that you all know what you're fighting for.”

  “Samantha… Samantha to my office now,” Mr. Garner demands loudly from an upper level across the now silent atrium. When I stay planted, he begins down the stairs.

  “My final offer is a simple exchange. I will return 23 of your people and you will give me Samantha Garner.” A few people gasp. “I have no intention of harming her and I’d prefer no blood be spilled during this transaction. She has two hours to exit or we will come in and retrieve her.”

  “Samantha. My office. Now.” Fury reddens my uncle's face as he stomps towards me. People have poured out of the cafeteria to the atrium. I glance at my friends.

  Lena shakes her head, already knowing what I'm about to do. James’ face is twisted in pain, not surprise, confirming he already knew.

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  “I'm going,” I say softly to Mr. Garner. I take a step away from him, a step towards the front doors.

  “You are not. That is an order. Someone stop her.”

  “I'm not hiding while they attack,” I tell him calmly, glancing around in case anyone does try to stop me.

  “One more step and I will stop you myself,” he threatens. “He will weaponize you. And if they start a war… if you start a war, we will all get dragged into it.” His feet are planted and his arms are raised to chest height, palms facing me. He's actually considering using his power on me. He would risk killing me before handing me over to the enemy.

  Fuck it. No one is dying for me.

  He's more powerful, but I know I'm quicker. I plant a haphazard shield behind me and sprint for the door, counting on him dialing back. He does not.

  A full strength blast shatters my shield and slams into my back, propelling me forward. I skid along the floor, completely immobile, unable to stop myself.

  I can't turn my head, can't move a muscle, but I hear him order his guards to restrain me. My lungs slow to a stop as handcuffs click onto my wrists. When he releases his hold, I gasp for air, blinking away the dark spots in my vision.

  My chest thrums with a tangible anger as I stand.

  No. That's power.

  I'm simultaneously hot and cold. My body aches and pulses. It's both painful and comforting. Familiar.

  I feel stronger. Unstoppable. I have an overwhelming urge to funnel all this energy right in his direction. Mr. Garner's face falls somber as if sensing my thoughts.

  “It'll be too much for you.” His voice is eerily calm, the gentlest I've ever heard him speak. He's genuinely afraid. “If you mimic me, it's unlikely either of us walk away from this.”

  I can feel everyone around me. I can feel their power. I could have any of it.

  All of it.

  One of the senior trainers steps out of the crowd. She wears black like I do.

  “Samantha, I'll uncuff you if you just take a deep breath. As you breathe out, gradually let go. Slowly. Gently.” I know I should… have to stop. I want to hurt him though. He nearly killed me.

  The trainer pauses her approach when she realizes I'm not following her instructions. The room is so quiet I can hear my heartbeat thumping in my ears.

  “You'll hurt more than just him if you don't calm down. I can help if you let me.”

  I nod and inhale deeply. A guard gives her the key to the handcuffs. She squeezes my hand reassuringly before releasing me. Her calming powers are a comforting, heavy feeling throughout my body like a weighted blanket. My head feels foggy, but my pulse is back to normal.

  Mr. Garner turns and walks back up the stairs to his office without a word. When I don't react, the entirety of Headquarters breathes a sigh of relief.

  “You have so much support, whatever you decide,” the trainer says before she re-enters the crowd. My legs are wobbly, but my friends come to me.

  Lena pulls me into an embrace then holds me at arm's length. “You do what's best for you. Don't worry about us here.”

  “Give ‘em hell,” Kai adds.

  “I want to get out of here before I change my mind,” I whisper to my closest friends.

  The others add words of encouragement. James says he's sorry.

  “I'll be back, “ I promise confidently.

  It's hard to judge how much time has passed since the threat, but no one rushes me and no one stops me as I pass through the main doors. I don't look back as they close behind me.

  Alone in the foyer, I wait for the secure doors to unlock. Nerves and doubt nag at me, but this is the only decision. I couldn't risk the people I care about. The cool evening air is relief for my hot, sticky skin.

  “I had hoped you'd be more reasonable than Frank.” The man casually leaning against the car uses my uncle's name with unsettling familiarity, but that's not the most disturbing thing about him.

  The charming, rugged face is hauntingly familiar. His light gray eyes are unmistakable. I freeze.

  “No hard feelings about my brother. He was an asshole. This has nothing to do with him.”

  I killed his brother.

  His brother killed my parents.

  “No time to unpack all that right now. I'm Callahan. Please remove that device on your wrist and get in my car.” His confidence and politeness feel fake as if he's overcompensating for something - nerves, impatience…

  But I do as I'm told with a confidence that I don't feel. I know if I hesitate, the doubt might win and I can't go back now. Once inside, he thanks me for my cooperation and informs me the prisoner bus is five minutes away.

  “So is that what I am? A prisoner?”

  He taps on the interior window, signaling the driver to go. He answers without looking at me. “If you continue cooperating, you won't be a prisoner any more or any less than you were at Headquarters.” The words sting, especially the nonchalance with which he says them while typing something on his phone.

  I look out the window. Soon it'll be too dark to watch the trees fly by. I have so many questions, but I'm in no mood to talk to this man. By the time we reach the airstrip, most people back home have likely gone to bed.

  I surrender to the fatigue once airborne, slipping into a dreamless sleep. No time to unpack all that right now.

  I wake with a jolt when we land. He's watching me, assessing me. We've not said another word to each other since our initial exchange. We regard each other silently as the plane taxies to the hanger.

  “Are you not trained in keeping people out of your thoughts?” he asks directly into my mind. I shake my head. “We have so much work to do.”

  We deplane just the two of us without the driver or the flight crew and descend down a stairway into a tunnel. Callahan sits in the driver seat of a small vehicle and I climb in beside him. The headlights shine into darkness, broken only by occasional lights along the arched ceiling.

  “You alright?” His voice in the silence startles me.

  “Just not a fan of strangers driving me through dark underground tunnels.”

  “I can assure you that you're the most dangerous thing down here.” He smiles. “It's a short drive. Your room is on the fourth level with a view of the ocean.”

  My room? The ocean? It all feels like a trick.

  “Unfortunately protocol demands we make a quick stop at Medical first.”

  The drive is mercifully short and we exit the tunnel into a gray, sterile hallway. There are no doors and very few markings, even though the hall branches into different directions. He's obviously familiar with the route and leads us to an elevator.

  Despite still being nighttime, the elevator doors open to a blindingly bright white lobby. The scent tells me we've arrived at Medical before my eyes even adjust. I continue wordlessly following Callahan, who walks with large purposeful strides, never hesitating about where to turn. Upon reaching the room, he takes a seat in the corner and I step behind a curtain to put on the hospital gown laid out for me.

  I feel vulnerable sitting on the exam table when a nervous nurse enters followed by two tall, muscular men.

  I can feel her fear like a cool slime coating my skin.

  That must be part of Callahan's power. It turns my stomach. When I glance at him, he raises an eyebrow. “Better?”

  The nausea is gone as fast as it appeared.

  “She has no intention of causing trouble,” he explains. The two men remain in the room, but lean against the wall looking relieved.

  The nurse begins asking questions about any current symptoms, about recent illnesses or injuries, about allergies.

  “Are you on any medication, including dampers?”

  “Dampers?” I ask.

  “To help regulate powers.”

  “Oh. No, nothing.”

  Her questions continue, growing more personal and inappropriate for the current audience. To their credit, the men appear not to be listening. Sexual history. Alcohol and drug use. Mental health.

  She takes scans and swabs until she's satisfied and then draws blood. “Until we get results, you'll need to quarantine in your room. It'll only be a few hours though.”

  I nod. Callahan thanks her and the guards as they take their leave. I slip behind the curtain again to change back. He's already standing at the door when I'm done and I follow him out.

  “There are no cameras or microphones in your private quarters, but the hallways are constantly monitored. After your quarantine, you're free to go where you please, but I don't recommend wandering around without me until people get used to you.”

  Get used to me?

  “How many other people at Headquarters share your gift of… mimicking powers?”

  “None,” I tell him aloud, so he doesn't have an excuse to be in my head again.

  “Currently none here either. How many can you name anywhere? How many in recent history?” I shake my head. “I know one. Headquarters may not talk about her, but some of the people here have seen first hand the pain and destruction she is capable of. Most do not want you here.”

  “And why am I here?”

  He stops at a door and holds a bracelet up to the handle. I hear the lock click and he steps aside to allow me to enter first.

  “May I come in?” he asks.

  “Uh sure,” I shrug.

  “It's safest to make sure the system doesn't perceive me entering your space uninvited as an attack. And I prefer to discuss the answer to that particular question without an audience,” he replies once we're both inside with the door shut behind us.

  Inside my room.

  For a moment, I don't care as much why I'm here. I walk across the spacious room to the window, which is already an improvement on my windowless bedroom at Headquarters. The view though - that's what makes me forget my question entirely. Only a short beach separates us from the ocean.

  Perhaps it's because this all still feels temporary - simply a poor negotiation by my uncle that I can remedy. I can figure out what this man wants, compromise, and go back to my friends after a short vacation.

  When I turn around, Callahan is rubbing his temples. I realize I feel as exhausted as he looks.

  “You think so loudly,” he grumbles.

  “Can't you just block me out?”

  “Generally yes.” I sense an unspoken ‘but’.

  “Mr. Garner is afraid you'll use me as a weapon.”

  “A deterrent, hopefully. Most of us are fucked if there's an actual war. But yes, if it comes to that, I want to be sure you're ready. Keeping you hidden and untrained isn't helping anyone.”

  “Untrained?”

  Everyone here has at least bare minimum resistance to mind intrusion, but I can riffle through your thoughts as easily as a stack of papers in my lap.

  To reinforce the message, which he spoke directly into my head, suddenly I could picture Mr. Garner and how scared he looked when I started to mimic his powers.

  “Yes, he's always been scared of you. That's why he was so desperately trying to control you,” Callahan says out loud. “You should rest. I'll return in a few hours.”

  He leaves abruptly as if he can't stand to remain in the same room a minute longer. I look around, still shocked at my accommodations. The view is luxurious, but the rest is quite plain. Functional.

  The walls, the furniture, the bed linens are all shades of gray. I open the armoire to find similarly dull clothing, but I'm used to wearing black all the time. Perhaps even more exciting than seeing the ocean outside my window is the ensuite bathroom. At home, I have to share with a hallway of people.

  I feel a pang of guilt thinking about home. They're likely imagining me in a prison cell. I lay down on the bed, which is definitely not made for a typical prisoner. I fall asleep on top of the covers without even removing my shoes.