The Shattered Genesis (Eternity) (107 page)

             
“You're making me very angry.”
             
“And what? I won't like you when you're angry?” James pressed him tauntingly.

             
“No, you won't. We have been gifted with powers, James. Do you want to know what m
ine is? I can harness emotional energy. With it, I can...” He closed his eyes for a moment and the floor beneath our feet began to shake. At first, it was only a slight rumble, similar to what is felt when a car is turned on. But then, the very foundation
of the house began to tremble; people were running and screaming past us, trying to get out before the whole structure crumpled to the ground. Penny was crying and James was holding her close with both hands. I held onto Brynna, screaming with the others,
as the
torches lighting the hallway flickered and went out. Throughout the duration of that man-made earthquake, Adam merely smiled and leaned against the wall, observing the dust that fell from the ceiling.

             
“Stop it!” Brynna screamed at him after finally
stepping forward. She glared into his eyes when he opened them again. He lurched forward, stumbling several steps, looking alarmed. The shaking ceased.

             
“All you had to do, Don, was ask nicely.” Brynna hissed at him as he crumpled to his knees, holding hi
s temples. “Do you want to know what my power is? I can see and understand things that you know nothing of. I can see every thought in your mind, all sadness that you have held in your heart and every fear you have ever run from. If that demonstration of s
trength was meant to make us succumb to your will, then know this: I can make that very power you harness destroy you from the inside out. James can rip you apart without stopping for breath. Now, what was it that you wanted from us?”

             
It all made sense no
w; we were predestined for these powers we now wielded. Brynna had always been unthinkably intelligent but now she could read our minds and hearts while sensing future events by instinct alone. She understood the forces of the universe, how they shifted an
d contorted to warn us of impending danger. I had always been prone to violent rages, petrifying anxiety and crippling depression. There had been times when I was sure those storms of feeling would be the end of me. Once, they were the end of someone I hel
d very dear to me. Miranda had paid the price for my burgeoning, adaptive power.

             
“Violet!”

             
I looked at Brynna and James. Penny was still in James's arms, crying into his neck, her tiny body trembling in fear. It had been Brynna that had shouted.

             
“Take P
enny back to mine and James's room. Lock the door. Do not let anyone in unless it is Alice, Quinn, or Elijah.”
             
“Why do I have to lock the door?” James handed Penny to me.

             
Brynna watched as a man went running by, shouting to Don that it was time to go to
war. She looked back at me, raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips.

             
“Right.” I replied, “Be quick, you two. Okay?”

             
She nodded. Then she did something she hadn't done in almost five years. She grasped my face and pressed her lips to my forehead. I was stun
ned and moved so deeply by the gesture that tears rushed into my eyes by their own will. She nodded to me again and I hurried off with Penny, looking over my shoulder just before I rounded the corner.

             
The people of our house were stomping and shouting lik
e hungry animals in a deadly herd. A stampede would soon be heading into the north after the Bachums. Their attack on us had proven that they were ready to fight until they erased us from existence. Now, we had to show that we desired the very same course
of action.

             
In the eyes of both Brynna and James, I saw that they understood that terrible truth as well as I did, if not better. They were ready to fight. They wanted nothing more than to live the peaceful life they had promised Penny and me, but they kne
w that wasn't an option now.

             
The darkness was closing in.

Brynna

             
“I am going to speak with the boy from the cave. His father and I do not see eye-to-eye.”

             
I stared at Adam, wondering why he was justifying his actions only to me. I did not care about
the war he wished to start nor the one that had raged for years before our arrival on the planet. I looked up when dust fell from the ceiling; the people we had been living with were no better than animals. They were running through the house, gathering an
y blunt instruments that could be used as weapons. Their rage knew no bounds.

             
I understood that completely. It had been a truce made behind closed doors: The Bachums would not set foot on our land. We would abide by the same courtesy. The bodies in the tr
ees had simply been a final warning. I could not justify such senseless violence but I did understand, if only somewhat.

             
“I do not wish for you to see me speak to him.”

             
“Why is that, Adam?” I asked with my arms crossed over my chest.

             
“Because I know
that you already think very little of me.”

             
I was confused, a state of being that was as alien to me as the man I was looking at.

             
“And the feelings of an Earthean woman are important to you?”

             
There was a trace of a smile on his lips.

             
“Only yours, my dea
r Brynna.”

             
“Why is that?”

             
Now, he was openly smiling.

             
“Another time.”

             
He turned and sauntered away. The torches flickered as he passed, cowering in his growing ire. I returned to James who had been watching my conversation with Adam closely.

             
“He does
not want me to watch him interrogate the boy from the cave.”

             
“Why?” James asked.

             
“Well, it certainly does not matter. Don wants us to interrogate the other boy. I do not believe that Adam will harm Jonathon. He is the other leader's son. He is much too i
mportant to be dispatched so quickly.”
             
“He is. I think you're right. I hope so, at least.” He turned his gaze to me. “I'm starting to think we were wrong.”

             
“Wrong in the side we chose or wrong in our capture of Jonathon?”

             
“Both. But in regards to the fo
rmer, we certainly weren't going to go sing to the heavens with the Bachums.”

             
“Definitely not.” I chuckled, “Or be forced into a loveless marriage where we had to bear ten children.”

             
“I can't say I wouldn't enjoy that.”

             
“Oh, no?”

             
“Nope.”

             
We laughed on
ly slightly. I kissed him and buried my face in his neck.

             
“You are no longer a canine. You are officially swine.”

             
I felt his warm breath on my neck when he laughed now.

             
“I know. I'm a sick man.”

             
“No.” I shook my head and looked up at him. “James, I don
't want to do this.”

             
“I know.” My inner storm was calmed for the duration of time that his lips were on mine. “I don't want you to do this, either. Just wait out here for me, okay? Anything that you could gather from him with your power, I can easily gath
er with mine. Maybe you can convince Adam to leave Jonathon alone. He seems to value your opinion.”

             
I shook my head.

             
“No. I won't leave you to face doing this alone. And Adam will not listen; his fury was too great.”

             
“So, he'll kill him? Could you see t
hat?” James asked me, somewhat more intensely than I expected. “We'll never be able to right this, if he does. It will be our fault if he dies. He's a kid. He's probably Violet's age.”

             
I nodded and stood on my tiptoes to rest my forehead against his. In a
trembling voice, I whispered:

             
“We made a terrible mistake.”

             
Those words were weighted with such stinging regret, with such terrifying implications. If that boy died, it would be our fault. We had acted rashly, thinking that he would be able to offer
some useful information to us. We had thought that handing him over to Adam would be easy; we had thought that it would guarantee our safety. Yet there we were, still stuck on the front-lines of the storm that was coming to pass.

             
“Don wants him alive. He
wants them both alive. We have no choice but to do this.” My eyes met his again. “With what we were talking about earlier...”

             
“About our two choices?”

             
“Indeed. What about in regards to the latter?”

             
He was quiet for a long moment. That pause was enough o
f an answer but still, he spoke.

             
“You're right. That was a mistake. We could have left. It was egotistical of me to take him...”

             
“You? Egotistical? No.” I smiled up at him.

             
“A cliché about rocks and glass houses comes to mind, my dear.” He told me calml
y, “I thought it was a smart move. But now, I feel guilty about it. Do you feel guilty about it?”

             
“Of course I do. He is very young, like you said. He looks that way, anyway. Now, if he dies, his blood is on our hands.”

             
“You know what that means, don't y
ou?”

             
“I am sure I do.”

             
He raised his eyebrow at me, calling me silently on my own ego once again. I grinned at him innocently.

             
“We need to rectify the error.”

             
“By breaking him out of here?” I asked, stunned.

             
“Imagine that, you didn't know what it
meant. We need to try to convince Adam to let him go first. If that doesn't work, then yes. We need to let him go ourselves.”

             
I nodded in response.

             
“I agree.”

             
We were stalling out of fear of admitting exactly what we had been asked to do. We were meant
to interrogate the boy from the Bachum camp; we were meant to get answers through whatever means were necessary. Were our hearts truly cold enough to commit such an act?

             
“Remember that they killed three of our people.” James told me. “We were completely o
utnumbered and outgunned. We're lucky to still be here. To still be alive, I mean.”

             
“Is that how you're justifying this?”

             
“Yes.” He answered, and I nodded again.

             
The boy was handcuffed to a chair. He had been observing the underground cell he was in, bu
t when James and I entered, he looked at us; I saw distinct, unshakeable fear in his eyes. I watched as he took a deep breath, knowing he was trying to steady his nerves. My own rattled loudly, urging me to turn back. I had always been cold but I had never
physically harmed a defenseless human being. Yes, I had killed to defend myself and my siblings. But I had never hurt one who had no chance, as was the case with this handcuffed boy. I did not know many who were capable of such brutality. James was right
in saying that they had unjustly attacked us. But if we had the guns, would we not have followed a similar course of action?

             
James and I sat down in front of him in the wicker chairs that Don had left. As we studied him, he only glanced up once or twice.

             
“Freaks...” He muttered but his voice was trembling so severely when he said it that I could not take offense. I looked at James, sensing the same reluctance in him to move forward with the questioning. He was meant to utilize his great strength to cause
pain. I was meant to enter this boy's mind to ferret out what we needed to know. I took no joy in trespassing into the thoughts of another. My own stream of consciousness ran deep, powerfully consuming any silence that might have surfaced from its depths.
I did not need to dive into the endless stream belonging to another person.