Wild-born (23 page)

Aloud, the woman was saying, “I’m really, really sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“I’m okay,” I managed to say, though we both knew I was far from okay.

“Your cell phone, ma’am,” said Mark, handing her back the phone she had dropped when she crashed into me. Mark was completely oblivious to what was going on.

“Thank you so much,” said the woman, getting back on her bicycle. “Well, I must be going.”

“Be safe, ma’am!” Mark called after her as she pedaled away, and I was left standing on the sidewalk feeling like the world’s greatest fool.

Mark didn’t ask me again why I had come to town, but seemed to take it for granted that I was going back home with him. I didn’t argue. Dejectedly pulling the bike along, I walked with Mark several blocks to his rusty red pickup, which was parked behind his church. We loaded the bike onto the pickup’s cargo bed.

“Do you want to take a quick look inside before we head home?” asked Mark, gesturing toward the church, which was an old but well-built two-story redbrick building not entirely unlike Mark’s house on the hill, though somewhat larger.

I was in no hurry to return to Cindy having failed my mission so pathetically, so I gratefully accepted Mark’s offer. My uncle had taken me to Mass with him on a number of occasions, but my parents were both agnostics, so it had been a long time since I had been in a church.

We circled back around to the front of the building and entered through the main doors. Inside, I noticed the trace fragrance of recently burned incense, and looked up toward the altar. There was another priest speaking quietly with a nun who, upon seeing us, broke away from him and walked purposefully up to Mark.

Mark greeted her politely and started to introduce me, but the nun cut him off and said, “Father Parnell, excuse me, but there was a call for you a moment ago from a Mrs. Anderson. She asked that you call her back as soon as possible. It sounded quite urgent.”

“Yes, of course, thank you,” said Mark. “Excuse us, Sister.”

Mark quickly led me past the pulpit, through an oak door and into a small office. There was no one else here, and Mark strode up to a wall-mounted telephone set next to an antique lamp.

“Mrs. Anderson is Cindy, Adrian,” explained Mark. “I’ll tell her you’re with me.”

I shook my head no, but Mark was already dialing and not looking at me.

Oh well,
I thought miserably,
at least she’ll know I’m safe.

Mark said into the telephone, “Hello, Cindy? It’s Mark. Guess who I just met! What? Slow down, Cindy. What are you saying?”

I noticed the tension in Mark’s voice and craned my neck to hear Cindy’s side of the conversation, but I couldn’t make it out. Cindy’s voice on the phone sounded frantic.

“No, Cindy, I ran into Adrian,” said Mark. “What do you mean? How can she not be there? I know you can’t sense her in your own bubble, but that means she’s still somewhere in it... Just calm down... Cindy! Cindy, listen to me! Get in your car and start driving toward town. Don’t speed on the road or you might run into her in the dark. I’ll meet you at the bottom of the hill, okay?”

Mark hung up and turned to me. “Come on, Adrian. Alia is looking for her big brother.”

We ran back to the pickup truck, and Mark nearly floored it as we tore out of the parking lot, around the church and onto the main street, heading back toward the hill.

I sat next to Mark experiencing the same gut-wrenching feeling I had when I first learned that Cat hadn’t been found. Alia had probably woken from her nap shortly after I left. Cindy wouldn’t have told Alia the full truth, but must have told her that I went to town. When did Alia leave the house? How long would it take for her to walk down the hill? Where would she go from there? If Alia had left Mark’s house at about the same time that I arrived in the town... It would have been five hours already.

I heard the loud thumping of a helicopter overhead. Looking up through the pickup truck’s windshield, I saw the black silhouette of a monstrous military transport in the night sky. I wished I was up there with them, looking for Alia from the air. If only I could fly without being seen! It was already very dark, but I didn’t want to risk any more midair run-ins with helicopters.

We were at the foot of the hill in less than ten minutes, but it felt more like ten hours. I saw the road leading up into the dark forest that covered the bottom of the hill, and wondered if Alia was walking beneath those trees right now, or if she had already come through, or if...

I felt Mark grip my shoulder. “Adrian, snap out of it!”

Mark stopped the truck and got out. I got out too, and watched as Mark reached into the cargo bed and unloaded his mountain bike, setting it down in front of me.

“Listen, Adrian, there are only two roads that lead to town from here, and we just came down one of them. This other one,” said Mark, pointing to a gravel road that ran alongside the forest, “may still be in Cindy’s protective area. You cycle down that road and see if you can’t find Alia. I’m going to start driving up the hill and meet Cindy halfway. Once I meet up with Cindy, we’ll come after you.”

Mark got back into his pickup and drove up into the forest, and I got on his bike and started pedaling as fast as I could over the gravel. The road was empty, with just a barren field on one side and the forest on the other. There were no streetlamps, and by now it was so dark I could hardly see where I was going, but I didn’t slow down.

Coming around a gentle curve in the road, I saw a tiny, shadowy shape off in the distance. At first I thought it was a trick of the light, but as I got closer, there was no mistaking her.

Alia heard me coming and turned around.
“Addy!”

I jumped off the bike as Alia flew into my arms. Alia started crying, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck. I held her until she calmed down a little. Then I forced her off me, shook her shoulders and said furiously, “What were you thinking?! You can’t just come down the hill like that! Cindy’s worried sick about you!”

Alia started sobbing again.
“Addy, please don’t go away!”

“I’m not going anywhere, Alia.”

“But you and Cindy were fighting.”

I stared at her in surprise. Alia had been awake. How many of our other arguments had she overheard? Seeing her tear-stained face, I finally realized how much fear and pain I must have been causing her, and what it must have taken for her to walk all this way alone.

“Alia, I’m really sorry,” I said. “I promise I won’t have any more fights with Cindy. And I’m not going to leave you and Cindy like this again.”

“Never?”
asked Alia, wiping her eyes.

“I promised I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Come on, Ali, let’s go home.”

I couldn’t ride Mark’s bike with her, so we’d have to come back for it later. Leaving it leaning against a tree, I took Alia’s hand and started to walk with her back the way we came.

All of the fear and tension I had felt during the day had drained away, leaving me utterly spent, and yet strangely at peace with myself. It had been exceptionally stupid of me to suddenly leave the house like I did, and I promised myself that I would apologize to Cindy for putting us all at risk. Everything I had done today was wrong. Cindy was right: I really had acted like a little kid.

But I’d make it up to her. In just a few minutes, we would be reunited, and we would all go back to Mark’s house together. In fact, I could already see the shadowy silhouette of Cindy’s car coming toward us, and I turned to Alia.

“Look, Ali!” I said happily. “It’s Cindy!”

“No, Addy.”

I looked at the car shape again. It was an off-road vehicle, but not Cindy’s SUV or Mark’s pickup. And its headlights were off.

“Addy...”

Alia inhaled sharply, gripping my hand tighter, and suddenly I was blinded by a spotlight from above. I stumbled, pulling Alia down with me, and when I scrambled to my feet, there were more lights coming from other directions. I could hear the engine of the car in front of us, and the soft thumping of a helicopter above. There was shouting too, but I wasn’t listening to it.

I could barely see in the glare of the lights, but somehow I pulled Alia into the forest with me. It was too dark under the trees to see anything, and I stumbled again.

“Stop!” commanded a deep male voice amplified on a megaphone. “Lie on the ground facedown with your hands behind your back! If you try to escape, you will be shot!”

There were men crowding around near the edge of the forest, and they had flashlights, but I was sure we hadn’t been seen yet.

I heard another voice say, “They went in here, sir.”

My eyes had adjusted slightly to the darkness under the trees. Grabbing Alia’s hand, I stood up and started to run.

“Freeze!” someone shouted.

But I didn’t. A moment later, I felt a sharp sting in my lower back as if someone had kicked me hard from behind, and I fell forward onto my face. I didn’t even hear the gunshot. I was no longer holding Alia’s hand.

I painfully rolled over onto my back. I could feel the warm blood spreading over my stomach. The bullet had gone clean through me.

Alia was crouching next to me.
“Addy! Addy, no!”

“No, Ali,” I breathed, trying to push her away. “Run... hide...”

I dimly saw Alia holding her hands over my stomach, and I tried to push her away again, but by now the blood leaving my body was draining me so much I could barely move my fingers. Everything was in slow motion. I heard Alia crying. I heard footsteps rushing up to us. I could hear my own faint breathing as I felt the life draining out of me. Lights were cast everywhere as the men came up and surrounded us.

“Do you want me to take the girl, Major?” The man’s voice sounded distant, slowly reverberating through my head like a dull echo.

“No, let her do her thing. I want them both alive.”

A moment later, I could no longer see the flashlights.

C
hapter 11: The Wolf’s Lair

Even after I opened my eyes, it took some time for my senses to adjust to my new surroundings.

I was lying on a hard hospital bed, dressed only in a thin white gown over my underwear. There was also a pair of heavy bracelets on my wrists. They were made of hard white plastic, each about as wide as a playing card and much thicker than a watch. There were no markings or writing on them. Probably having been designed for adults, the bracelets weren’t particularly tight around my wrists, but I couldn’t slip them off. I wondered for a moment if they might be some kind of medical monitoring equipment, but my gut told me that they were something more sinister, though I couldn’t fathom what.

I carefully touched my stomach, expecting to find some bandages, but there were none. Slipping my right hand under my gown, I felt where the bullet had left my body. Aside from some light scarring, it was completely healed.

The square room that my bed was in had dark gray walls, was claustrophobically tiny, and contained no other furniture at all. There was a heavy iron door set in the center of one wall and an intercom next to it. On the ceiling, next to a pair of glaring white fluorescent tubes, a small black security camera was looking down at me. Aside from a tiny vent near the ceiling, the room appeared to be airtight. There were no windows, and even the door fit seamlessly in its frame.

Sitting up on the bed, I reflexively put my hand up to Cat’s amethyst, but my fingers grasped air. It was gone.

I thought about Alia. She was a healer, and she had saved my life. How long had I been unconscious, and where was Alia now?

I looked around again, my dread mounting. Obviously, this was no ordinary hospital room. The gray walls, which I had originally thought were painted concrete, gave off a strange sensation that I couldn’t quite grasp until I identified the mild draining effect that came from being surrounded by metal. This wasn’t even a normal prison cell. It was a vault, perhaps specifically designed to keep psionics in.

I heard a soft whirring noise coming from my bracelets, which vibrated ever so slightly, and suddenly I was being drained. Small metal rods had extended from inside the bracelets, pressing against my skin. I felt dizzy. My whole body weakened, I wanted to lie back down onto the bed, but I forced myself to stay sitting upright. The metal door was opening.

In stepped a middle-aged but muscular man with very short blond hair. He wore a dark green military uniform, and even though I couldn’t tell his rank, not knowing how to read the military symbols, I instantly knew what he was. Near the shoulder on his right sleeve was a patch that needed no introduction to someone who had been taught what it symbolized. It was a wolf’s head.

The Wolf stepped up to my bed as the metal door automatically closed behind him.

“Stand up,” he commanded gruffly.

I carefully got down from the bed. My condition was making it hard to stand straight so I held on to the side of the bed for support. The Wolf lifted my gown and inspected the bullet scars on my stomach and back.

“You have healed well,” he said, nodding slightly.

I remained silent.

He let go of my gown and looked into my eyes. “You were brought here yesterday from the forest where you were caught. It is my hope that you will cooperate in our efforts to bring in the others.”

“Others?” I asked.

“Cynthia Anderson and Hillary Nash, both believed to still be in the town where we found you. We know Mrs. Anderson has been your keeper after your parents were killed, and if you can help us find her, we would be quite grateful.”

Mrs. Anderson... That was the name I heard used in Mark’s church. It must have been Cindy’s fake identity, which meant the Wolves didn’t know her real name. It also meant she hadn’t been caught. Hillary Nash might have been the graviton woman I met in town, but I couldn’t even be sure of that. Either way, I couldn’t simply give this man Mark’s address. I looked down at the floor, not knowing what to say.

The Wolf continued in a calm but cold tone, “I don’t care about Nash, or, at least, I don’t expect you to know where she is. You may have never even met her. But I do care about Anderson. One way or another, you will help me find her.”