Crow - The Awakening (69 page)

The motorcycle hit the mound of construction dirt at full speed. Laurence saw parts of the bike fly off from the impact as it was catapulted up into the air like a rocket. Steven barely held on and Laurence was surprised he wasn't knocked out by the impact as the bike came up and slammed into him. In the light of the full moon, Laurence was able to see the bike as it rose high in the air. He jumped out of his car and climbed up the pile of dirt to see where it landed. He couldn't believe anyone could survive such a jump, much less the landing. The bike was broken. Laurence knew that it was a risk knocking him off the motorcycle, but now he was sure his prize could die for certain.

The bike started falling finally, having traveled impossibly far. Laurence stepped to the side of the pile to see around a sapling that was starting to block his view. The bike was going to hit the trees. But it was too far away to make Steven out clearly in the night. It appeared that Steven was standing up on the seat. Then suddenly he was no longer on the motorcycle, but flying through the air by himself and he entered into the canopy as if swallowed up, barely shaking the tree and suddenly all was quiet until the motorcycle impacted another tree and fell in pieces to the forest floor below.

Laurence was dumbfounded. Steven survived what Laurence had thought impossible. He was more convinced than ever that Steven wasn't human. Running back to his car, he reached in and grabbed another magazine of toxic darts for his pistol, and an extendable baton. He also strapped on a large knife, remembering how the trees attacked the aliens back in the meadow. In the front seat he yanked the GPS off its stand then he popped the trunk and donned his night vision goggles.

After he closed his car up, he ran back to the top of the hill and peered out into the darkness of the forest, setting his goggles to infrared. He saw Steven high up in the trees. He had seen monkeys with less climbing ability than Steven as he navigated from tree to tree. Running and jumping over the ditch that had been dug at the end of the road, Laurence sprinted up onto the fire road. Steven was running in a direction that seemed to be going away from the city but he knew that he was going to come back. He was surely heading home. The GPS indicated that the fire road was a more direct route to a finger of civilization that jutted out into the forest and Laurence predicted that Steven would try to get to that finger, so he stuck to the fire road, running as hard as he could. From time to time he could make out Steven in the distance and his prediction appeared to be correct. Steven wasn't straying too far from the road. But even though Steven was taking a more circuitous path to the finger of civilization, he was still remaining far ahead of him, flying through the tree tops faster than Laurence could run.

Undeterred, Laurence pushed on even harder. Knowing where Steven was headed helped a lot and reduced the need to stay exactly with Steven. His goal was simply to cut him off and hit him on his nugget with the baton. Laurence smiled at the thought and figured he'd hit him a few more times for good measure. The tranquilizers were largely useless in trying to capture Steven. They had pumped a dozen into him and it still didn't phase him. The sedative darts had proven completely useless against his physiology and the toxic darts his gun was now loaded with would surely kill him. But he believed in being prepared for any contingency.

At one time Steven appeared to drop out of the trees and run on the ground. He couldn't see the trees but guessed Steven had hit a clearing. He was tempted to run into the forest and try to catch him before Steven found more trees to climb up in. However, the chance of missing his opportunity and losing precious seconds was simply too high and Laurence kept to the fire road, working to flank him instead.

He almost tripped on a skunk that had ambled out of the wilderness and could smell its stink behind him as he continued running. The skunk had sprayed, but appeared to have missed him. Grinning at his good fortune, Laurence continued to push himself. His extensive continuous training routinely included full out sprints for several miles under duress so he was just now starting to work up a sweat and still wasn't fully winded as he tried to go even faster. His motivation was fed by the fact that he was currently directly disobeying his boss and success was paramount to his maintaining his good standing with the Order. Failure was simply not an option.

Steven appeared to have found another tree and was up high again, starting to pull ahead. Laurence was amazed that the kid was able to maintain such speed through the tree tops. He couldn't comprehend climbing from one tree to another without climbing gear, let alone maintaining such a fast pace through the trees. He appeared to climb high then jump from tree to tree, each time losing a little height until he climbed up again. But he climbed faster than he ran and it didn't take a second before he was moving from tree to tree again. He may as well have been flying.

Regardless, the chase was still on and Laurence was determined to catch up with Steven before he made it back to town. Laurence determined if he made it through this challenge, he would set about learning how to do this himself. An army traveling through the trees could be an immensely stealthy force if done correctly. Then he saw the infrared image of Steven seem to drop out of the tree, jumping from impossible heights and landing as if hopping off a curb. He wasn't far from the fire road and Laurence switched from pursuit mode to stalking mode. He didn't know why Steven had stopped, but this was an opportunity he couldn't pass up.

Steven let the springy nature of the branches do most of the work as he flew through the trees, much like a diver used the bounce of a diving board. He pushed faster than ever before, racing through the forest in a desperate effort to get to his apartment before the bad guys started tracking him again. The scanner still had not picked him up and he was hoping it would stay that way until he had a chance to make it permanent. If he could get there he could throw them off his trail by falsifying his presence and preserve the security by obscurity that his apartment now enjoyed. Better, he could create hundreds of false signatures, utterly confounding his pursuers. That would be more fun than just disappearing. Steven grinned sadistically. He wondered if Brandon had made it there yet. It was difficult to keep track of time out there in the forest, especially at night.

Steven's night vision was in full force now and he could actually see pretty well. The nearly full moon made a huge difference but something was different. He could even see colors. That was a newer development for him. Normally he couldn't see colors well at night even in the full moon. But the moon's reflected light was the same color of the sun, just dimmer. Much dimmer. Now he could see a wide range of colors, almost like a dimmer version of daylight and he found it more than a little disconcerting.

Steven allowed himself to be distracted by this pondering as he traveled through the forest as if on autopilot. The issue with Asherah was getting to be more of a disturbance than he could handle. He was sure it was because of the stress. But Asherah did have some very good points. After all, Steven was traveling through the tree tops faster than he himself could run and this was his preferred method of transit to move quickly through the forest. Even on the forest floor his preference was to trot or run rather than walk, unless he was hunting for mushrooms. Brandon had always used a dirt bike out in the forest and did not even remotely have Steven's stamina when it came to running. Steven felt odd if he was just walking. Just how weird was he? Asherah was quiet for a change, letting him ponder things. He got the impression that she didn't want to push too hard.

The energy in the forest was like a supercharger to him and just about demanded that he express that energy by moving through it speedily. For him, it seemed the further and longer he ran or traveled through the trees, the more energy he got. He was never exhausted after traveling through the forest. It was like he was taking a break and the forest was taking over, moving him along. At the same time, Steven had read about native Americans that would run between villages without stopping. So perhaps he wasn't so odd after all. But then, even they did not travel through the tree tops.

Asherah mentioned her mother being similar. And herself. Steven's memory of Asherah climbing was as fresh today as the days they used to climb together too. The implications were rich. Somehow he was like them? She was an Elf. She taught him Elvish. He even knew Elvish songs. But it was more than that. At the time he preferred that to English when he was with her. It just seemed like a much more natural way to express himself. Did he make all that up? Thousands of words, the grammar, the songs? All while going to school at an accelerated pace? He was smart, but surely not that smart. Steven shook his head, frustrated by the thoughts.

Steven's doubt in his insanity grew by little baby steps like that. The reminder of the drawing was another baby step. He used to gaze at it for hours at home, thinking of Asherah. He knew every pencil stroke. It was so unlike his own style, distinctly hers. Something he would have trouble making up. At one time he was sure he had gone mad and would end up in some psychiatric ward talking to himself and drooling into a cup. Now, too many things were adding up. But were they? Wouldn't an insane person work hard to find some sense of normalcy, some way to convince themselves that they weren't any different from the general population? That they were perfectly sane? At the same time, would an insane person even comprehend his own insanity? However, would an insane person try to make an alien... life-mate... normal, real?

Life-mate. Steven pondered on that. They were one now. Always together. Her words. And fact. He always felt her, no matter what he was doing or even when he was on the tea. But how was that possible? It belied everything he had learned about science. However, the first thing science will tell you is that you don't know everything.

These questions weighed on Steven as he maintained his momentum through the trees. He felt Asherah in the background of his mind, staying quiet while he worked things out. She trusted him. He could feel that. He approached an area where the trees had at one time suffered a forest fire and the branches were a little more brittle. After breaking a branch, he slowed down a little, keeping closer to the trunks of the trees rather than farther out near the tips of the branches as he used their normally pliable recoil to spring him from tree to tree. That broke him from his daydreaming and he had to concentrate more on each branch as he traveled. Steven grew impatient as he had to take more care to select branches that looked like they had recovered sufficiently from the fire to support his weight and give him the energy he needed to make it to the next tree.

Suddenly he felt a little pop on his calf and it started itching like mad. "What now?" Steven grumbled. He noticed that he was near the fire road as he decided to hop down and investigate and he hoped no one would drive past and notice him as he scaled down the tree. But the itching was too much for him to continue without checking it out. The spot on his leg was where he had gotten shot. He had all but forgotten that he had been shot up until now. He found it odd that he would totally forget such a thing. One would think getting shot would be a traumatic and consuming experience. But while it hurt, he remained functional and wasn't impeded in the least. Until now, at least. Although it was itching, it no longer throbbed. Steven hoped it wasn't getting infected or oozing. He really missed his godmother's salves now. They didn't always smell very good, but they were really effective at keeping his scratches and scrapes free from infection and the wounds always seemed to heal very quickly.

As he landed softly on the forest floor he stopped for a second and listened. His heart was in his ears from pushing himself so much harder than usual, in spite of the energy of the forest, so it was hard to hear anything. He felt for the life out there but was too distracted by the itch of his wound to narrow in on anything.

Sitting down, he noticed a mushroom and pulled it off the tree. It was young and still soft so he munched half of it before turning his attention to his sore. His bandage was bulging and he wondered if something had worked its way under the bandage, like bark or something.

He tenderly put his finger on the bandage. It felt like there was a hard object in there, like a small pebble. Steven was more convinced something had worked its way under the gauze as he was running through the forest. But he was primarily up in the trees, where there were no pebbles or anything else like what he felt. He carefully removed the bandage and something fell out of it into his hand. Holding it up to the moonlight, he saw what looked like a small metal mushroom. He instantly recognized it. The bullet that had hit him. The tip of it had expanded when it hit his skin and burrowed into his flesh. He wondered how it had popped out on its own. Perhaps it never burrowed in that deep? But when he put the bandage on, it was a small round hole. There was no bullet to be seen. However, he was using his calves extensively during the travels. Perhaps it just worked itself out. Without hurting. Steven raised an eyebrow. Yet another oddity to add to a long list of oddities.

He turned his leg over to look at his calf. It was still itching, but not as bad. He found where the hole had been but it looked like it was mostly closed up. Now it was little more than a scab that was itching. He finally recognized the itching. It was what he usually felt when a wound was mostly healed. He touched the bullet wound. It didn't hurt. Lightly scratching around the perimeter of the scab did make it feel better, however.

But he had been shot just that night. How did it heal so fast? Was that something else Asherah was going to point out to him? Superhuman healing ability? He didn't really feel like any sort of superhero, however. But the healing wound could not be denied any more than he felt the dead snag in the meadow could be denied. He put his head on his knees as he sat there, trying to riddle it all out.