Wild-born (13 page)

“My parents are dead, Cindy,” I replied quietly. “Where am I going to go? If only I could be sure that my sister is okay, I’d stay and help you all you need.”

“Thank you, Adrian. I’ll show you to your room, okay?”

Cindy led me up the stairs. There were four rooms along a narrow corridor. Cindy briefly opened the door to her own bedroom just to show me where it was, and then opened another door that led into a dusty storage room with some old furniture and many cardboard boxes. After I had taken a quick peek in to satisfy my curiosity, Cindy closed that door and led me farther down the corridor toward the last two.

“This one here is Alia’s room, which we won’t open because she’ll wake up. And here is yours,” said Cindy, opening the last door. “Sorry it’s so Spartan. I didn’t have a lot of time to prepare it, and besides, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d find you before someone else did.”

“I was wondering about that,” I said as I stepped into the tiny room, which was furnished with a small bed, an old oak cabinet, and a black antique writing desk with a cushion-less wooden chair. There was just one small square window over the bed. The room wasn’t much, but to someone who had spent the last three weeks outdoors, it was a five-star hotel. I decided that Spartans had it easy.

“Wondering about what?” asked Cindy.

“Oh,” I said, sitting down on the bed and looking up at Cindy, “I was wondering why no one else had found me sooner. I was always afraid that the Angels might send someone else to kill me, or that Ralph was still chasing after me.”

Cindy smiled. “Even after you hit him with a chair?”

We laughed, and Cindy said, “He’s never going to hear the end of that. Clobbered by a little... well, clobbered by a soon-to-be-thirteen-year-old. Still, I’m sure that sooner or later, you would have been found by someone. Wild-borns never stay wild very long. And it’s not just psionics that try to find us, either.”

“You mean the church people?” I asked. “The God-slayers?”

Cindy nodded grimly. “On their holy crusade to kill all gods but the one god. But as for the Angels and Guardians, I’m sure they were already closing in on you. Both factions would want you on their side, and no one likes a lone wolf, Adrian.”

“A lone wolf,” I repeated, raising my eyebrows, “like you?”

“Like I said, I’m good at hiding,” said Cindy.

“I’m not good at hiding.”

“Locating a child, even with powers like yours... Well, very few finders are up to the task. Besides, it’s hard to sense anyone in the city with all that metal. That’s why the Guardians’ gathering that Ralph was taking you to was being held in the city. They almost always are.”

I looked at her, urging her with my eyes to say more.

Cindy laughed, saying, “I can see there’s no end to your curiosity, Adrian. It was a mistake to mention the Guardians again. We’ll be up all night if I talk about them.”

“Oh please, Cindy,” I begged. “At least tell me what a gathering is.”

“Okay, that won’t be too hard,” she said, sitting down next to me on the bed. “You know that the Angels and the Guardians are fighting, right?”

“Ralph said it was a war.”

“Ralph is old and senile. He’s exaggerating. It’s more like a feud. Do you know what that is?”

Obviously Cindy still thought I was ten years old.

I answered mechanically, “A feud is a series of small clashes between two families that lasts through many generations.”

“Exactly,” said Cindy, nodding. “It’s not an all-out war. If it was, it’d be all over the news, I guarantee it. But both sides know that, and neither wants to be discovered by common people. We may have power, Adrian, but not in numbers.”

“And the gathering?” I asked.

“Well, even in a large psionic faction like the Guardians, the members don’t all live in one place, but rather in small clusters all over the country,” explained Cindy. “A gathering can be called for any of a number of reasons. It could simply be for entertainment or exchanging news. Occasionally, they might pool their forces for an offensive against another faction. Gatherings are often held underground, where it’s even harder for enemy finders to locate.”

“And how many gather?”

“Oh, a fair few, usually. The Guardians are slowly dying out, but still, there’d be, ah... possibly fifty or sixty.”

“That’s it?” I asked. I had been imagining a stadium-size location jam-packed with all kinds of people with wild abilities.

“Well, they don’t all gather at once,” said Cindy. “Besides, it could have been just for the leaders, in which case, only a handful. I don’t know. I’m not a Guardian anymore.”

I stared at her. “Cindy!”

“Oops!” laughed Cindy, putting her hand to her mouth. “Did I just say that?”

“Yeah, I heard it,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Loud and clear.”

“Look, Adrian, that is a really complicated story, and long too. Do you really need to hear it right this instant? I promise I’m not with them.”

“Okay, Cindy,” I said. “It can wait.”

Cindy smiled warmly and got to her feet. “If you want to stay up, it’s okay, but it’s bedtime for me.”

“Cindy?” I said as she reached the door.

Cindy turned around. “Yes?”

I smiled. “I’m glad you found me.”

“I’m glad I found you too, Adrian. Goodnight.”

Cindy closed the door behind her. I sat on the bed for a while, thinking of all the things I had learned that day. About power, and the people who have it. Only twenty-four hours ago, I was alone on a building roof with nowhere to turn to, in constant danger of being found by Ralph or someone like him. I realized that I had been extremely lucky to be found by Cindy. I touched the pendant around my neck, feeling the smooth, polished stone between my fingers. For a brief moment, it felt like Cat was sitting right there beside me, and I was home.

After turning out the light, I stood up on the bed and looked out from the small window. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of the moon before I went to sleep, but I guess it was on the other side of the house.

C
hapter 7: Life in Hiding

I wasn’t woken until half past eight the next morning when, of all things, I heard Alia’s small voice in my head calling,
“Addy? Addy, Cindy says wake up.”

I quickly got out of bed and rushed downstairs. In the dining room, Alia was just finishing her bacon and eggs. She jumped a bit when I ran in, and I apologized for scaring her. As I wolfed down my breakfast, Cindy asked me about my clothing size.

“I’ll do some shopping for you on my way home. Please don’t hate what I get. I’m late! I’m late!” she panted, grabbing her handbag as she headed for the front door, Alia and me following in her wake. Apparently, Cindy didn’t drive to work.

At the door, she gave Alia a quick hug and said, “That’s right, Ali. Addy is going to watch over you while I’m away. You can play with him. I’ll be back for dinner. You be a good girl, okay?”

Alia nodded smilingly, and Cindy turned to me. “Adrian?”

“Yeah, yeah, good boy, play with Alia, stay in the house, no problem,” I mumbled.

Cindy patted my shoulder, smiled once more at Alia and me, and exited the house.

As soon as the door closed, Alia sprinted back down the hall, through the living room and up the stairs. It seemed that Alia was still very afraid of me, and I didn’t know what to do. Through the little window on the front door, I could see Cindy getting on her bicycle, which had been standing just outside. I wondered if I should call Cindy back, but while I was debating this course of action, she rode off and out of sight.

Cindy wanted me to be nice to Alia, but it seemed that the only way to be Alia’s friend was to stay far away. I walked back into the living room and sat on the couch, feeling slightly dejected. I wondered if Alia would get hungry enough around lunchtime to brave my presence. Perhaps the best thing for me to do was to go hide in the garage so that the poor little girl could have the run of her house again.

Then I heard a voice in my head say,
“Addy, let’s play.”

Surprised, I turned my head toward the stairs, and suddenly I found myself face to face with Alia, who was standing so close to me that our noses were almost touching! I hadn’t heard her come down the stairs at all, so naturally I gasped and jumped up. Alia also jumped back a step, and then looked at me, letting out one quiet giggle before darting back up the stairs.

“Come on, I’ll show you my room,”
said her telepathic voice.

I cautiously followed her upstairs.

I hadn’t yet seen Alia’s bedroom, and when I entered, I was met with a kaleidoscope of colors. It was a miniature toy shop in here, the floor and shelves overflowing with dolls and stuffed animals, the bright pink wallpaper covered with even more brightly colored posters and pictures of panda bears and ponies and all sorts of cute stuff. Whatever I thought about Cindy’s decision to keep Alia locked up in a house for three years, there was no denying that Cindy was spoiling her rotten when it came to presents. Looking around, I suddenly understood: This wasn’t a kid’s room at all. It was a nursery! Cindy was letting Alia relive her baby years here.

But it seemed that Alia had outgrown many of her more babyish toys, preferring the Legos and wooden blocks to the giant stuffed unicorn which stood leaning against her bed.

I sat with Alia all morning, actually enjoying myself as I helped her build a castle with the blocks and played a few board games with her. She still seemed to be keeping a very slight distance from me, and was often silent for minutes at a time. Perhaps I was just more used to Cat’s lively personality, but I didn’t mind Alia’s quiet ways at all. During the last few years before my car accident, I hadn’t spent much time even with Cat, naturally preferring to play with friends my own age, so I never imagined I’d enjoy sitting around with a little girl. But after nearly a month on the streets, it felt good just being in somebody’s company for a change.

Completely used to being left alone in the house, that day Alia was the one who fixed our lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which we ate along with some salad that Cindy had left in the refrigerator for us.

After lunch, I carefully peeled the Band-Aid off of my thumb to check if yesterday’s cut had healed. There was still a very thin line left on my skin, but when Alia came over and put her right hand near it, the line disappeared instantly.

“Thanks, Alia,” I said, almost patting her on the head before thinking better of it.

Alia took a short nap on the living-room sofa in the afternoon, and I was left to my darker thoughts. True enough, Alia was nothing like Cat, but being with her reminded me of my sister, who I hadn’t seen since I sent her running off into the night. I put my hand to Cat’s amethyst pendant, which had become a bit of a habit for me, and hoped my fears about my sister were unfounded. Surely, Cat would have long since been picked up by the police and be comfortably adjusting to life with my uncle.

“Addy?”
Alia had woken up and was looking at me.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“My back is itchy.”

It still felt a little strange to hear her voice without the accompanying mouth movements, but I was getting used to it.

“Um, okay, come here,” I said carefully, apprehensive as to whether she would jump again if I actually touched her. However, she unhesitatingly came up to me and turned around, so I went ahead and scratched her back for her, running my fingernails over the back of her T-shirt.

Even as I did so, I could tell something was wrong. The skin under her shirt just didn’t feel right. I ran my fingertips softly along her back, and realized how scarred it was, with lines crisscrossing this way and that, as if her back had been repeatedly cut up. I shuddered. Cindy telling me the story last night was one thing, but actually feeling it on Alia’s skin was quite another.

“That tickles!”
Alia cried into my head, giggling loudly at the same time and pulling away. Hearing her laughter, I realized that her voice was actually quite normal. She just didn’t speak words.

After a sip of apple juice, we were back up in Alia’s room playing with her set of wooden ABC blocks. Actually, I was flying the blocks around and over Alia’s head as she jumped up and down trying to grab them. When she finally managed to get one of the blocks, Alia turned to me and asked,
“Addy, can you make me fly?”

“Well, I can, but I don’t know if I should,” I said, remembering how I had once bashed Cat against her bedroom ceiling.

“Please, Addy?”

I thought about what Cindy had said on the rooftop: “Control? You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

Well, Cindy,
I thought to myself,
someday you’ll teach me, I’m sure, but until then...

I levitated Alia up into the air. She let out a loud shriek, and, mistaking it for fear, I quickly put her back down.

“Again!”

That’s how Cindy found us when she came home later that evening: me sitting on the living-room sofa, and Alia laughing and screeching in delight as I flew her around and around the room. Actually, I was just setting Alia down on the floor to take another quick break when Cindy opened the front door, which was fortunate because if I was caught off guard, I might have thrown Alia against a wall or something.

“Adrian!” Cindy cried anxiously. “The neighbors will hear her!”

I grinned. “Tell them you left your TV on.”

“I don’t have a TV, Adrian.”

“Oh, so you did know that?” I said sarcastically.

Cindy laughed loudly herself at that one. Then she held up two large shopping bags that she had brought home. How she had managed to carry them on her bicycle is a mystery I never solved.

“Your new clothes,” announced Cindy. “I do hope they fit. But no complaining about my choices, okay?”

As I stood up to take the bags, I felt a dull pain in my left ankle. It wasn’t much, but I still wondered why it was there. Hadn’t I sprained that ankle a couple of days ago crash-landing after being spotted by a helicopter? Why hadn’t I felt the pain before? I wasn’t sure exactly why, but I felt it was important, and decided to ask Cindy about it later. Right now, I had a more pressing question.