SPARKS: The Smoke & Fire Series (Prequel Book 1) (3 page)

Sori believed the bullet not
killing her was connected to why she had been able to hit and break her
attacker’s leg. She believed she possessed a special ability that made her
stronger than normal.

Eventually, Sori stopped caring
about dying. As a matter of fact, her overall attitude became more nonchalant.
She gravitated towards danger more, when she had not so long ago avoided it.
Swallowing a bottle of pain killers and being shot in the head hadn’t killed
her so she took it as a sign that she was being spared for a reason she had yet
to discover.

The new way Sori reacted to
people eventually started to give her pause. Having the ability to flip her
emotions off was dangerous. She realized she was becoming a person without a
conscious, some of her feelings becoming choices.  She was most afraid of
committing evil acts and using her ability to ignore what she’d done. One of
the things she most feared was becoming one of the monsters who’d had a hand in
raising her.

She explored her abilities,
sneaking into abandoned buildings and houses to practice kicks, punches, and
all sorts of fighting techniques.  One of the only things that gave Sori solace
was her profound and insatiable need to save those like her; people who were overlooked,
unwanted, and forgotten. Often, she invited herself into fights, helping those
being bullied.

The bullies Sori most wanted to
tackle were her foster parents. It only took Rodney and Debra four months to
kick Sori out of the house after her release from the hospital. They claimed
she was too disobedient.  Her foster sister Sherri had run away twice, which
sent her back into state custody and away from Rodney and Debra.

Sori stalked her foster parents
after she found out they were given two new foster daughters, an eight and ten
year old. Keeping a close eye on the couple, Sori along with cops arrived just
as the couple called, “Action.”

After the cops located dozens of
the couple’s previously made child porn movies, Rodney and Debra were arrested
and sentenced to prison.

****

Since Debra was in prison for a
child sex crime, she was a target. Due to the prison being overpopulated, Debra
didn’t get the privilege of going into segregation. She suffered daily
beatings, was often starved, and always picked on. Since some of the female
guards were just as criminal as the prisoners, they rarely stopped attacks
against Debra.

In an effort to find herself
prison protection, Debra became the property of the prison bully, Big Letta.
Debra realized her mistake too late. Big Letta pimped Debra out to other
prisoners and to male prison guards for drugs, cigarettes, food, and
merchandise.  Debra had essentially become a slave with no one to turn to for
help.

The one time Debra refused Big
Letta’s advances for sex, she found herself at the wrong end of a shank. Her
death wasn’t quick or painless. Debra was stabbed seventeen times by Big Letta.
Her body had been placed inside one of the industrial sized dryers in the
prison laundry area. Debra clung to life for nearly two days before prison
guards found her body a week after her stabbing.

From his first day in prison,
Rodney was passed around as prison-meat. His attempt to take the easy way out
didn’t work.  His botched suicide by hanging sank him deeper into his own
personal hell. As a suicide risk, he remained shackled to his bed in the prison
infirmary. Guarded twenty-four hours a day, the guards tasked with watching him
were worse than the inmates. Rodney was repeatedly raped by the guards who also
allowed other inmates into his room. Suffering months of sexual abuse, Rodney
eventually found a way out of his restraints and put the finishing touches on
his suicide. Using a discarded pen, he had been desperate enough to dig a hole
in his wrist, down to the bone.

After Rodney and Debra’s
apprehension, Sori found it fulfilling to capture criminals. She couldn’t wait
to turn eighteen so she could join the military. Her willingness to fight for
the underdog and embrace danger caught the attention of a world she didn’t yet
know existed. A world she would fit into perfectly, one she would abide.

It wasn’t until she reached
adulthood that Sori realized the abnormalities she considered an ability made
her as lethal as the harsh environments that raised her. Discovering she could
literally act without a conscious and hit faster and harder than most people,
concerned her. To appease her mind, she promised herself that she would only
unleash her anger on the monsters of the world.

Eventually, Sori will be
introduced to Top. A high-level secret spy organization, Top would encourage
Sori to embrace her abilities and use them to rid the world of evildoers. Sori
didn’t know it yet, but her rough upbringing and abuse where all inadvertent
training that would later serve her well in her new world. Top was her new
beginning and her life was about to spark explosives.

Part 2

Mycale Thomas Phillips - Fire

Waking up in an unfamiliar
environment, sparked panic. The hardness of the mattress, the stale musty air,
and the suffocating stillness were all indications that he may no longer be in
his own room.

Shaking off the clouds of
sleepiness, ten-year-old Mycale squinted against the harshness of blinding
light.  He called out, “Mum. Dad.” He even called out to his twelve-year-old
big brother Mateo, but no one answered. Sure he was stuck in a dream, Mycale
struggled to remain calm.

Lying flat on his back, Mycale
could make out a dirty white ceiling. The ceiling tiles bore holes as if rats
had been eating at them. The walls showcased white paint and nothing more. His
football and race car posters weren’t there. His shelf lined with his football
trophies weren’t there either. Mycale focused, looking for anything familiar. A
light sat like a beacon just over Mycale’s bed. There were no windows from his
vantage point and more beds were coming into focus.

Unable to move his hands, he
couldn’t shield his eyes. Blinking rapidly, the brightness made him fight to
keep his tortured eyes open. Mycale scanned the area as best he could. As his
focus became clearer, he saw other kids. Beds of children atop dirty and torn
mattresses was all that filled the large space. The sight of other kids should
have relaxed him a little, but he didn’t know them and had no idea where he
was.

Mycale fought the urge to yell
for help. Not knowing how he had gotten here frightened him more than actually
being wherever
here
was.  As his eyes darted back and forth, a flash of
movement stopped him.

Lifting his head as far as he
could, he called softly, “Hello.” Another boy in a bed a few feet away, didn’t
answer. The boy was too busy fighting wrist restraints.

Tears ran down the other boy’s
face as thick leather straps anchored his hands to the bed frame.   The boy was
about Mycale’s age. He sported a black eye and badly bruised arms and legs. His
attire was nothing more than a loose fitting hospital gown. Aware now that
Mycale was looking his way, the boy’s hand strained against the restraint as he
pointed.

Mycale’s first instinct was to
reach towards the boy, but the urgent look on the boy’s face urged Mycale to
look in the other direction.

A sharp snap kept Mycale’s hands
near his waist. Taking in the sight of his bound hands was only one of the
reasons Mycale’s heart stop. The unnatural silence of the room and hospital
gown he wore were a few other reasons to have a heart attack.  He yelled, “Let
me out of these things. This isn’t funny. Let. Me. Out.” His chest heaved with
nervous energy.
Why can’t I hear myself?
He asked, “Where in the bloody
hell is the sound?” His parents would have disciplined him for saying ‘bloody
hell,’ but he was sure this time was justified.

The boy was still pointing.
Raising his head as far as he could, Mycale’s eyes took in what his mind
couldn’t understand. A woman and man stood over a girl two beds away. They
unstrapped her as she screamed and tried desperately to fight them.  
No
sound. She’s screaming with no sound.

Speaking to the boy next to him,
Mycale asked, “Where are we? Why are we here? Where are they taking her?”  The
boy gave no reply, but his haunted eyes held Mycale’s attention.

Panicked, Mycale needed answers. 
He was surrounded by at least twenty beds, all filled with children. Some of
the children were asleep, some awake, and some were crying and making desperate
attempts to free themselves.  Unable to hear what he was seeing, Mycale’s
terror intensified. This had to be his punishment for some long ago delinquency
he’d gotten away with.

Pulling at his bound hands, he
noticed his torso was also strapped to the bed. Wiggling and kicking his feet,
Mycale yelled at the top of his lungs, but he couldn’t hear a thing.  He felt
the sound vibrate throughout his body, but his voice was lost in space never
reaching his ears. The sound had been turned off, like it was being vacuumed from
the room.

Exhaustion was the only thing
that tempered Mycale’s fight with the restraints. Fear and terror fought for
the number one spot in his mind. He wondered if his mom and dad knew he was
missing. Were they searching for him? Had his dad peeked into his room like he
usually did? Was he ever going to see his family again? His father and brother
would tell him to be a
hard man
. Fighting fatigue, he continued to try
to free himself.

Mycale didn’t realize he’d fallen
asleep until he was being shaken awake by the same man and woman who had taken
the girl. They stood above him, two soundless monsters. Immediately, Mycale
fought them with everything he had. Twisting and turning his body, he yelled
and screamed, “Don’t touch me. Leave me alone. What do you want with me?”
Silence prevailed, sound would not break free and his words were neither heard
nor acknowledged.

Being pulled forcibly from the
bed, Mycale intensified his attempt to fight. He flailed about like a fish out
of water, but the man and woman together were too much for him. The lady held
him by his arms while the man held his feet.

Once out of the room, Mycale was
struck by the sudden potency of sound. His flailing came to a screeching halt.
Sound was back as the beautiful rhythms of life vibrated against his ears.
Calmed by the familiar blanket of sound, Mycale’s body went limp as the man and
women carried him towards the unknown.

Mycale whispered to himself,
“Stay calm and be a hard man.”

While being carried down a dimly
lit hall, Mycale scanned his surroundings. The nauseating scent of cleaning
products, seeing varied areas lined with medical equipment, and cabinets of
medical supplies suggested he was in some type of hospital.

Turning into the only open door,
they entered a larger room that held two smaller rooms. The smaller rooms were
nothing more than large rectangular glass cubes. Fearing he was about to be put
into one of the cubes, Mycale started to struggle again. Once inside the cube,
the man and woman released him at the same time, dropping him. Before he had a
chance to get up and protest, the woman and man quickly exited and a glass door
without a knob slid shut.

Locked inside, Mycale slammed his
hands against the door and demanded to be let out. He yelled, “Let me out of
here. When my dad finds out what you’re doing, he’s going to kick your butts.”
Since the room was see-through at all angles, Mycale felt like a trapped
hamster. He beat against the door until his hands became sore. Eventually, he
took a seat in the only chair in the room and waited.

The man and woman watched from
behind desk, their eyes scanning as if observing a display.  Both had notebooks
in front of them, hands poised with pens ready to take notes.

Watching the man speak to the
woman, Mycale expected not to hear anything being trapped in a cube but he
heard the man’s muffled voice.  All of a sudden, the man’s voiced projected
loudly inside the room. Looking around, Mycale saw a honeycomb-shaped button
that must have been a speaker.

The man said, “Mycale, if you
show us your ability, we will send you back home.”

Mycale didn’t understand. What
ability? What exactly was the man asking him to do?

The man continued. “We know that
you have an ability, Mycale. There is no need to be afraid to show us. We are
people that specialize in finding children like you. We are here to identify
your ability and send you back home as quickly as possible.  If you listen to
us and do what we tell you to do, you can go back home. We have the means to
make you forget this entire incident. As a matter of fact, one of our
unbreakable rules is to ensure you forget any of his ever happened, therefore
you can think of this as just a dream. You won’t remember any of this Mycale.
We promise.”

More confused, Mycale didn’t know
how to respond. He noticed the man didn’t speak with an English accent like
him. Mycale asked the only question on his mind. “Can I go home? I want to go
home. I don’t know what you want me to do. Can I go home…please?”

The lady had the nerve to smile.
She said, “You need to show us your ability, Mycale. If you are here, it means
that at some point you showed the potential for manifesting or having an
ability. You may not be unaware of it yet.”

After a moment of waiting, the
man asked, “Have you ever done something amazing that you didn’t think was
possible? Have you ever done anything that you saw a superhero do?”

Although only ten, Mycale was
smart enough to know that he couldn’t do anything he had seen superheroes do.
He told them, “Az if. I can’t do anything like a superhero. That’s stupid.”

The lady said, “Now, that simply
is not true, Mycale. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Mycale desperately wanted to give
these people what they wanted so they would let him go home. He stood. His
movement captured the woman and man’s attention, making them sit straighter in
their chairs.

Since he’d always done well in
his Karate classes, he decided to show them some of his best moves. The man and
woman didn’t stop him as he wore himself out showing them jabs, kicks, and
spins. Eventually, Mycale took his seat, winded and out of breath. Once he
caught his breath, he asked, “Was that good enough? I also know how to fish and
hunt and catch insects.”

The two didn’t appear impressed
with his display. The man asked, “Can you fly, or make objects hover in the
air, or move faster than a person’s eye can see you, or shift your body into
animals and objects, or walk through walls? Do you have dreams and visions of
things before they happen? Can you make yourself invisible? Can you move
objects with your mind?”

Stunned by the unusual questions,
Mycale stared unblinkingly. They were asking him things he knew to be
impossible. Shaking his head, he wasn’t sure how to answer.

Exhausted from the constant mix
of unusual questions, all Mycale wanted to do was go home. Instead, he was
dragged kicking and screaming back to the room with no sound and strapped to
the bed. Taking in the scent of urine and maybe even feces, he closed his eyes
and prayed he would wake up in his own bed. Too tired to fight, Mycale fell
quickly to sleep.

****

When the woman and man unstrapped
him again, he wasn’t sure if he had slept for minutes or hours. Thirsty, his
scratchy and dry vocal cords refused to project the words he attempted. Words
didn’t matter in this room anyway, he remained silent despite his attempts. He
didn’t fight while being carried back to the glass room, there was no use.

This time, the boy who had been
in the bed next to him was seated in the adjacent glass room. The portable
rooms were in the same position as their beds and sat like two giant cubes. The
other boy’s head constantly swiveled as the man and woman sat watching.

Mycale took his seat. Both he and
the boy waited, wondering what the man and woman had planned for them. Jumping
about like a string-puppet’s, Mycale’s legs refused to stay still. Someone was
approaching.

Mycale took in the presence of
two large men built like NFL all-star football players. Passing his room, he
watched the men enter the boy’s room. Seeing the boy cower as the men stood at
each side of him was a sign that they weren’t there to be friendly. The boy’s
body sank inwardly as he dropped his head low to his chest, too frightened to
look up at the men. Watching, Mycale prayed they weren’t planning to hurt the boy.

Without warning, the men began
slapping and punching the boy. The boy’s head jerked and snapped with each
blow, making Mycale flinch and jump. Hearing the boy’s muffled cries, the vibrations
penetrated Mycale’s body. All attempts the boy made to fight back were lost.

Mycale stood, pounding the glass
wall that faced the boy’s room. Screaming for them to stop, he hoped to draw
the men’s attention.

The sound of the woman’s voice
flowed continuous through the speaker, but Mycale ignored her request to show
his ability. Fearing for the boy’s life, he screamed louder and pounded harder.
“Stop it. He’s only a boy. Stop hitting him, please.”

The lady’s voice never stopped,
“Mycale, show us your ability or they will continue to beat Ivan.” Hearing the
boy’s name made the incident more personal.

Yelling toward the speaker,
Mycale said, “I don’t know what you want me to do. I don’t have any abilities.
Please make them stop. We didn’t do anything.”

Ivan’s beating commenced as the
woman’s voice became nails on a chalkboard. Mycale pounded the wall harder.
Suddenly, the wall shattered, making the man and woman stand behind their desk.
Surprised by his own strength, he didn’t have time to think about it. Running
over to Ivan’s room, Mycale slammed his fist against the outside of Ivan’s
wall. He shouted, “Leave him alone you monsters.”

The men continued to pommel Ivan,
raining down punches that intensified Mycale’s anger. Mycale’s pounding
shattered the second wall of glass. He was so upset, he didn’t care about breaking
glass or how he’d done it. Just as he ran towards the boy, Mycale was jerked
back and slammed to the floor. His head collided hard with the floor, sending
shooting pain to his brain and throughout his body. Immediately, his aching
head was pinned under the man’s boot. As the groove of the boot pressed into
his cheek, Mycale struggled to see if Ivan was okay.