Battlefield (21 page)

“But?” Orlando supplied.

Alan laughed. “Always observant. We have been given our next task, along with all of the other charges in the area from my tribe.”

“There are others?” JD asked.

“Yes, please, save your questions,” Alan stressed the point. “Our task is to find the twelve test subjects who were injected at the party. Eleven now, since Angela is one of them. We must do so before they are found by the other two groups or...”

Die. Orlando whistled quietly through his teeth.

“I do not believe I have to explain why this is important?”

All four teenagers shook their heads.

“Excellent, but I will do some research on my own for the weekend. I am also in agreement that you have earned a break. Besides, you will find most of your information through word of mouth at your places of education and going where the youth your age commonly are. I will give you more details soon. Now is there anything else we should discuss before I attend to Angela's needs?”

JD nodded. “Code names. We've got to have something to call each other when we're out there. I found a great one for Cadence. I was doing a thesaurus search for words to call smart people, and Slick popped up. I thought it was pretty awesome.”

“I like it. Sad to say, but you're stuck with Chihuahua Man. It sounds like you have a rep,” Cadence said with a smile.

A rep? Already? JD could hardly believe it, but The Doctor had mentioned him by name. He even spoke his name with scorn, and he hadn't even done anything worth talking about. Orlando was the one who caused a lot of the problems.

“I think it's fitting,” Orlando chimed in cheerfully, though the cheer could have been fake. His sarcasm got harder to read when he smiled. “You're good at being annoying and yappy.”

JD rolled his eyes and gave a dull laugh. “And you're vile and spit like a llama. I think we're calling you Llama Kid.”

“No.”

“Yeah, I think so. And since I'm the leader and can't do anything else, and this was my idea? It's sticking.”

“This? Is why I hate you,” Orlando grumbled. Everyone knew he didn't mean it of course. “And darling sister?”

He looked at Angela. “She's lucky Number Twelve.”

 

The last date Orlando had been on was almost three years ago. It happened shortly after Dallas died, and it was with his ex-girlfriend who he later found out cheated on him with Jesse Jordan, of all people. Granted, she was a gold digger, and he knew that for a while when they were together. She and Jesse were still together in shallow bliss, and that was just fine by him. It did leave Orlando with a great deal of nerves as he entered Lunar Falls with Tait holding his hand however.

They stood in line behind her cheerleader friends. Most of them were in cute, short-cut shorts and flannel shirts tied in such a way to show off their perfect midriffs. Their respective dates all matched of course. A few thought outside of the box and dressed in unique clothes. One girl and her boyfriend wore janitor suits. While all of the dances at Morningtide had been well attended, they were always done so by the same two or three cliques. At Lunar Falls, everyone came.

Tait had bought the tickets for the dance earlier in the week without telling him. Frustrating, but he had paid for dinner. In fact, he had paid for everyone's dinner. There had been six of them. The restaurant didn't understand how to split a check, so rather than sit and agonize over who was supposed to pay what, Orlando took care of the whole thing.

When was the last time he danced in public? He no longer knew the “in” way to move on the floor. It couldn't have changed too drastically in just a couple of years though. He'd watched enough TV to have a vague idea of the new music and trends. On occasion he still enjoyed the next popular radio single. He'd make it work. All he needed to do was follow Tait's lead.

The dance itself was being held in the cafeteria. As soon as they entered, the two made a beeline for the far wall near the windows.

“We're here. How are you feeling so far?” Tait said.

“You say that like I'm going to break out in hives or something,” he said.

“I just know this isn't your scene.”

“Stop being so paranoid.” It wasn't his usual thing, but he wanted to be there. The experience was exciting. Either that, or he'd have done anything to get out of the house. Though he'd been looking forward to going, even before the others invaded on his home.

As it turned out, Angela wasn't going to die. None of them were sure how the drug would affect her. Not dying was a step in the right direction. Cadence recommended she stay at The Apartment a little while longer, just in case she exhibited some bizarre super power. If genetics said anything though, she might not be able to do a thing. JD still hadn't produced an ability, and it had been over a month. Of course, his powers were unlocked by the strange machine Alan had and not by The Doctor's drug.

Tait was just about to drag him to the dance floor when she stopped to look at her phone. She read her text, rolled her eyes, and showed him a message from Peyton. “He needs money. Wait here? I'll be right back.” She hesitated then leaned up to kiss his cheek.

Then she was gone, and he was left alone to process what had just happened. She did kiss him, right? He hadn't just imagined it. A few kids came up to say hi briefly, but conversation never lasted long. The waiting did, however. One minute soon became five, and then ten, and then fifteen. Peyton entered the cafeteria with his date and went straight to the dance floor. Orlando grumbled quietly to himself and debated sending her a text, but if she had been stopped by one of her many friends, he'd have a better job of getting her back inside by going in person.

He stepped into the hallway, took a moment to adjust his eyes to the bright fluorescents overhead and went to look by the entrance. She wasn't there. He waited by the bathrooms and still nothing. He was about to go back to the cafeteria when he felt someone tap his shoulder.

“Sorry bud-deh, but yer match is in the jail,” one of the teachers, one Orlando hadn't had yet for classes, said in a bad southern accent.

“Huh?” He remembered then why they had worn the matching outfits. It was all part of the game that was the Sadie Hawkins dance. He had been caught in the hall without his date, and now he had to be “punished”.

When he got to “jail”, which was, in reality, a small line of chairs against the wall guarded by a teacher, he found Tait sitting there talking to one of her friends.

“Took you long enough,” she said when she finally noticed he sat down next to her.

Orlando rolled his eyes. “You told me to wait there.”

“Next time don't listen so well. You ready?” She blushed and looked at the teacher standing guard.

“For?” he asked confusedly.

This time she rolled her eyes and kissed him quickly on the lips. Before he could say or do anything, she stood up, taking his hand in her own, and led him away.

“We, what, huh?” He stopped, running over those two seconds again and again. Two wonderful seconds where he felt warm all over.

“Bail? Remember? We talked about this yesterday at the mall. Forget already? Or was it just that good for you?”

“Just that good,” he finally managed. This apparently wasn't the answer she was expecting because she also stopped and stared at him. He could have sworn she was blushing, too.

She took a good look around before pulling him toward the bathrooms. This area was much quieter. Every so often a few students would wander by, but for the most part it was empty. Not far from there was another entrance to the school. The lights were off, and he was pretty sure if the teachers could have, it would be blocked from the students entirely. Fire code no doubt left it accessible. It was here that Tait brought him, and here where she pulled him in closer for a longer, sweeter kiss.

After a few seconds passed, she pulled away, looking up at him while biting her lower lip. “I know it was forward of me, but I've been wanting to do that for a while.”

“I'm not complaining,” he said. He touched the small of her back, using it to bring her closer so he could kiss her again, and frowned when he saw her wince. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing. I slipped in the shower today trying to shave. I think I bruised my spine,” she said with a soft laugh.

He nodded, and taking extra caution, he kissed her again. This was normal. Things couldn't get any better.

J.F. Jenkins lives in Minneapolis Minnesota with her husband, son, and two cats. She graduated from Bethel University in 2006 with a degree in Media Communication with minors in both writing and film. When she is not busy writing, she spends her free time playing games, reading, and spending time with her family.

Chapter One

 

If she had to do it again, she still would've let him bite her. She couldn't help it. He drew her to him. Denver Collins had that effect on women. Cheyenne Loveless was no exception to this law of nature, and she hated herself for it. Something about the way he walked, how he confidently strutted through the hallways of the high school without glancing at anyone or anything as he went. Or maybe it was those piercing green eyes that could make blood run cold with fear and then melt it and send it boiling with desire. He didn't care about anything, and yet she still retained a deep fascination for him. A bite was definitely not a typical display of affection, but Cheyenne didn't have the best luck with guys, so she would take what she could get. Sixteen years old and still hadn't had a boyfriend. The Steelville High School population no doubt thought she was a loser. If not, they had a funny way of showing it. More often than not, she was treated as if she had the plague.

Denver treated her the same way up until the night he bit her.

The day started just like any other. She survived her classes and was set to enjoy her extra-long weekend. Cheyenne shut her locker door with extra oomph, just as she always did. The lockers were always sticky, and she practically body slammed herself into hers to get it to close. As she left the small brick-and-concrete building, she saw Denver clearly for the first time.

He leaned against the side of the school coolly, the wind blowing his nearly black hair in front of his beautiful green eyes. Those eyes were the first things Cheyenne noticed about him. When the light caught them at a certain angle, they glowed like pure emeralds. Golf courses would envy his eyes.

Certainly the rest of him was handsome as well: his broad shoulders, his well-toned body, and flawless tan skin. The eyes had her hooked though. She continuously found herself stopping to stare at him and catch another glimpse, almost as if to make sure he was real. Gorgeous guys hardly ever graced her presence, and such a beautiful creature couldn't possibly exist. Yet there he was, in the flesh. She couldn't approach him. Being shy made that impossible. Just thinking about it was giving her a small panic attack. As soon as she was caught staring, her eyes averted to anywhere but him.

“Sorry,” she mumbled before hurrying down the sidewalk. He wouldn't have heard her anyway, since she was nearly forty feet away. At least he shouldn't have.

“I'm used to it,” he called after her. This made her walk even faster, her face now uncomfortable from all of the blood rushing to her cheeks.

How did he hear her? She risked one last glance at him before she ran the two blocks down the road to her house.

Cheyenne plowed through the front door as soon as she got it unlocked and then shut it quickly behind her. She leaned up against the door and let out a deep breath.

Her mother peered into the foyer from the kitchen. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, everything's fine. I just had a run-in with a boy at school and made a fool out of myself as usual.”

Her mother laughed. It always made her slightly wrinkled face crinkle, but in an adorable way. Cheyenne could only hope she herself would age so well. “I bet he thought it was endearing and sweet. You'll see, he'll be asking for your number any day now.”

“You always say that,” Cheyenne said quietly, setting her book bag down onto the floor with a grunt. The bag was heavy. Her whole life seemed to fit inside.

“You know I don't like it when you block the doorway with your things, honey.”

“I'll move it when I get done in the bathroom.” Cheyenne rushed upstairs to the nearest restroom and shut herself inside before turning on the cold water. She splashed her face a few times to try to cool off her skin and ease the tightening in her chest. Her eyes closed and she focused on relaxing, taking in deep, slow breaths before exhaling through her mouth. The tight feeling climaxed before finally dissolving, and she felt as if she could breathe normally again.

She jumped when there was a soft knocking on the door.

“Are you okay? You've been in there for fifteen minutes, sweetie.”

Had it really been fifteen minutes? She glanced at the clock and then at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was still glowing red, and her hair was all over the place. Tears pricked her eyes, but thankfully those were starting to fade away without any signs of ever having been there to begin with.

“I'll be right out. I'm just having some trouble with my contacts.” Lying to her mother was the last thing she wanted to do, but breaking her heart would have been worse. Cheyenne's social-anxiety problem upset her mother a lot, and the look of disappointment on her face every time there was a panic attack was one of the hardest things to see. If there was one thing Cheyenne didn't want to do, it was to be disappointing. All she had to do was dry her face and touch it up with makeup in a few spots, and nobody would know the difference.

“All right,” she said, more to herself than anyone else, and opened the door. “Sorry. I'm okay now. What's for dinner?”

“I just made something light.” The two walked down the stairs. “I figured since you're going to Rachel's party tonight, you'd probably be eating there.”

“Oh, right, that makes sense since we're going to a nightclub and all.”

Cheyenne had forgotten about the party, but Rachel had never been one of her close friends. The two were more like acquaintances, and the invite to the big birthday bash had been out of pure courtesy and obligation. Certainly the two got along fine, but to call them friends would have been a stretch. However, Cheyenne did say she would go despite it being held in the middle of the week. It didn't make much of a difference. It was the week of the fall teachers' conference, and there wouldn't be any school until the following Monday.

She wanted to try to make a new friend. She needed one, and this would be a great jumping-off point for her to do so. Cheyenne had promised her mother she'd try to make more of an effort to get out of the house and do different things. The goal was to get her experiencing new things in the world, starting in her own neighborhood.

Her mother leaned against the doorway and gave her a soft smile. “You don't have to go if you don't want to.”

“I know.” Cheyenne ran a hand through her dark hair, taking a moment to straighten it out. “But I need to go. I promised I would.” She paused and glanced at her mother nervously. “Will you help me find something to wear?”

She'd never been to a nightclub before. This particular club wasn't a typical one. Made especially for teens, it had a dry bar, which made Cheyenne feel a little more reassured. Dressing hip and trendy wasn't her strong point, however. The style that girls wore to those kinds of places was all about what was in as well as revealing. Cute she could do, but not cool, and definitely not revealing. After spending four hours trying to find the perfect outfit to wear, she ended up with something that was still only cute. Hopefully it could also pass for almost fashionable as well. The main goal was to not appear to be an idiot.

The girls had decided carpooling to the club would be the easiest mode of transportation. One car was easier to pay for and park in a ramp downtown. The city was quiet, a glass mountain range of skyscrapers in all colors, shapes, and sizes. The skyline was always impressive, especially at night when the buildings lit up with small lights like stars in the sky. Cheyenne took in all of these sights, the buildings, the people, and tried desperately to calm her nerves.
It'll be fine
, she reminded herself over and over again.
This will be fun
.

Twenty minutes later, she wouldn't have used the word
fun
to describe her evening. Rachel and the rest of her friends were off dancing on the floor. They tried to tempt her to join them, but Cheyenne was a disaster when it came to dancing. She tripped over her own feet, and when her arms or anything above her waistline moved, she looked as if she was having a seizure. Her hips couldn't do anything resembling sexy. To save herself from public humiliation, she kept close to the bar and sipped on Shirley Temples.

The music was loud in an obnoxious sort of way, which left her with a throbbing headache. The lights were bright and blinding and moved in disorienting patterns across the otherwise bland-looking room. Definitely not the hippest club in the city, but everyone seemed to enjoy it anyway. Well, everyone but her.

“This seat taken?” a male voice asked coolly behind her. It took her a minute or two and a tap on the shoulder for her to realize he was talking to her. She was about to mumble something to him when she noticed this guy was the same one with the green eyes she had seen standing outside of her school. Denver.

Immediately, her face became an impressive shade of red, which she knew because she could feel the heat from her cheeks. Thankfully nobody could see it in the dark light.

“No, it's not taken,” she said at last. Instinctively, she moved away from him as he sat down. He took a moment to shift along with her, as if he actually wanted to get close to her. Was there something wrong with her? She couldn't help but wonder, because he was sitting awfully close and leaning in, staring at something on her body. It took her a moment to realize he was checking out her chest.

“Can I help you?” she asked, shielding herself protectively with her arms.

“Sorry, you smell good,” he murmured, practically purring in her ear as he pulled away. He still maintained his close proximity.

“I smell...” She frowned and was about to sniff at her arm, but she stopped herself. “…good?”

“You smell good. Kind of like lilies of the valley, actually. Let me guess—you use that for your scented body wash?”

“I just use Dial.” Her entire body tensed more as he moved in again, his face dangerously close to her neck. “I don't mean to be rude, and while I'm flattered you're so fascinated with my body, you're also making me uncomfortable. If you're just trying to butter me up so I'll go home with you, you should stop now, because that's not going to happen. Back off before I make you.”

He moved away once more with a smug smirk. “I thought I smelled fire, too.” He extended his hand to her for a polite and friendly handshake. “My name is Denver. Yes, like the city in Colorado. Last name is Collins, and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I don't usually meet someone with that kind of scent. It's strong. I knew there was a reason I noticed you.”

Is this guy high or something?
“Apology accepted. I'm Cheyenne. I've seen you around school these past few weeks, but I don't think we've ever been formally introduced until now. You're new, right?” Cheyenne shook his hand nervously. He had a strong and confident shake. He seemed to be a genuinely nice person, outside of his odd behaviors. If anything, it made her look good in front of her classmates to be talking to the new cool kid, and a young, attractive male. She felt a little less like a freak.

“I'm temporary. I haven't been formally introduced to anyone. You're the first, and it's only because you smell so nice I can't stay away.”

“Do you use that line on everyone? It's unique. A little creepy, but unique.”

“No.” He sat back and proceeded to grab a napkin off the bar and fold it in front of him multiple times. He didn't have much of an attention span, apparently. “I actually don't pick up women often. I just made an exception for the blue-eyed beauty in front of me.”

Cheyenne's face flushed again. “I wasn't aware you knew the color of my eyes, seeing as how you've been staring at my breasts the entire time.” It came out a lot harsher than she intended. In fact, she wasn't meaning to say it at all. “Sorry, I—”

“You're right. I was, but I remember you from earlier. I noticed your eyes when you were looking across the school yard at me.”

“You do remember that.” She shrank in her chair a little, officially wanting to hide under a rock.

“It's a little hard not to when you're so cute.” He moved closer to her, not quite as close as before, but enough to cause butterflies in her stomach. “You don't like it here. I don't like it here. And since we both don't like it here, maybe we should head out and find something else to do. Maybe we can go someplace we both like.”

An involuntary shiver ran through her entire body, and she nodded slowly. She could never say no to those green eyes. “All right, but don't get any ideas. Just because I'm leaving with you doesn't mean that—”

“Relax, we'll just go for a stroll outside. We don't even have to leave the front of the building. Everyone can see us for all I care, but I don't want to be in here anymore.” He laughed and grabbed her hand, then discreetly led her out of the club before any of her friends could see she was gone. Cheyenne doubted they were paying enough attention to notice anyway. He held her hand much more gently than before. The contrast surprised her.

“Fine.” She stopped abruptly as soon as they were outside the club. They had some privacy, but they were close enough to the bouncers at the entrance. She felt comfortable enough to scream and have someone come running to help her if needed. He didn't seem like a threat, but then she reminded herself of all the people on the news who said that about the serial killers living next door to them.

“What brings you to a club on a Wednesday night?” she asked.

“I'm visiting the area, and I want to live it up here as much as I can. I figured I'd check out a party or two and see what you city folk do for fun. What about you?” He leaned against the brick exterior of the club and glanced over at her casually.

“Birthday party,” she mumbled, and then nervously leaned against the wall as well. “You're obviously not from here.” He must have been from one of the more rural areas if he was referring to her as ‘city folk.'

“Gee, you think?”