Created (Talented Saga) (6 page)

Natural Talents learn to cope with the power that accompanies their talents from a young age. Even before talents truly manifest, you know they’re there, just below the surface, separated from you by an invisible barrier that you can’t seem to cross. And while it has never been proven, I’ve always believed that the talented are born with an extra gene or whatever that helps them control the power. Sometimes the combination of genetics and learned behavior isn’t enough, and your talent is your undoing. The power builds and builds inside of you until you think your skin might rip open to release it. With no outlet, the abundance of power begins to erode your mind, and eventually there’s nothing left in your skull but mush.

Nearly a century after the Great Contamination, it was rare to find a Talent strong enough that the whole brain mush phenomenon was a real concern. Well, rare to find a natural born Talent with that much power, anyhow.

UNITED referred to them as the Created, the manmade, genetically engineered Talents who resulted from the creation drug.

UNITED had encountered the same problem with the creation drug that Mac’s medical research team had. Knowing no better, they administered repeat injections to their test subjects to see if that made the talents stick, so to speak, for longer. It worked, sort of. The recipients’ talents lasted for weeks after the second injection, months after a third, and so on and so forth. Soon though, UNITED’s research team realized a direct correlation between the number of injections and brain deterioration. Even the subjects injected just once had holes in their brains. It was determined that their bodies weren’t equipped with the ability to handle the manufactured power.

Switching gears, UNITED had next enlisted talented test subjects to see whether they fared better
with the drug since they were already talented. This, too, sort of worked. The hybrid talented-created showed less deterioration and sustained their engineered powers for longer, but they still weren’t completely immune to the side-effects. It was after this avenue lead nowhere good that UNITED shut down the project and banned the drug.

Crane had strong allies within UNITED, many of whom were only too happy to help bring down TOXIC over the use of the creation drug. But, they needed proof that they were using it. Penny and I alone were probably proof enough, but Erik would be icing on the cake.

Once we provided them with proof, UNITED would intervene and Mac would have to answer for illegal experimentation, genetic engineering, and generally being an asshole.

But will he have to answer for killing your parents?
a voice in my mind asked. Once UNITED became involved, I worried my window for revenge would close. Sure, Mac would serve time in prison for his crimes against humanity. Was that enough, though? After my parents’ murders, I’d vowed vengeance: a life for a life. How would I feel if that never occurred?

“Ian?” a high-pitched female voice called, dragging me out of my thoughts. Crane and I both turned to look at her.

She appeared young, no more than twenty-five, with pale jade eyes and hair the color of wheat. She wore a gray scrub top over black and white camo pants and heavy combat boots. I thought she might have been one of the medics attending to Erik, but wasn’t positive.

“Can I speak with you?” she asked. Her eyes darted pointedly in my direction, and I knew whatever she had to tell him was not good news.

Ian followed her line of sight, his gaze steady when our eyes met. “You might as well tell me here, Cheryl,” he told her, but he didn’t break eye contact with me.

“Sir, I really think that –” Cheryl started to say, but Crane cut her off.

“She’s a mind reader with exceptional hearing,” he inclined his head in my direction, “There’s no point in us speaking privately.”

Cheryl seemed unconvinced, but didn’t argue further. She swallowed hard, and seemed to measure her words before she spoke. A cold sweat began to spread across my skin, coating first my face, then my arms and legs with a thin layer of ice.

“Four of his ribs are broken. The internal damage is … extensive. But it’s the blood loss that’s really troubling. He needs a transfusion,” she finally said. Cheryl looked at Crane, and Crane looked at me.

“Will he be … okay, until we get back to California?” My throat was so tight that I was surprised the words squeezed out. He had to make it, he had to make it.

“I’m not sure. The longer it takes to get him treatment …” Cheryl’s voice trailed off, but the unspoken words rang in my mind. If Erik didn’t get treatment, he would die. All of this would be for nothing.

I felt the tears teetering on the edge of my eyelids, I didn’t want to cry. Not again. It seemed like that was all I’d been doing lately. I bit down on the inside of my cheek until a coppery taste filled my mouth. The pain dampened my desire to sob, but I wasn’t sure how long I could fend off the inevitable. Crane’s sympathy leaked into me, and the tears fell.

“There’s an Underground station in Tennessee; we can be there in less than an hour. Do what you can for him until then and be ready to move once we’re on the ground,” Crane instructed her in a low, even voice.

“Yes, sir,” Cheryl replied, and without another word she retreated.

Crane hit a button on the arm of his chair. “Get me a line to the other plane. I need to speak with Brand.” He was no longer wearing his earpiece, and Brand probably wasn’t either.

“Right away, sir,” the reply came from a speaker that I couldn’t see.

Crane reached towards me as if to take my hand, but thought better of it at the last minute. Instead, he patted my shoulder once then drew back. The gesture was nearly lost on me, though; no amount of empathetic gestures would console me.

“Meadows,” a voice crackled through the unseen speaker.

“Change of plans. We’re going to land in Gatlinburg. I need for you to take the soldiers from our plane back to base. The fighters will accompany you.”

“What’s wrong?” Brand’s
staticky voice asked.

“We need don’t have adequate medical supplies aboard. Gatlinburg is the closest camp.”

“It’s too dangerous, Ian,” Brand said. “It’s only a matter of time before they launch a counterstrike. We were followed out of there. We need to put more distance between ourselves and their fighters.”

“We are landing in Gatlinburg. That’s an order, Captain Meadows.” Crane’s tone held so much authority that it reminded me of Mac.

“Yes, sir,” said Brand, his words punctuated by a burst of white noise. Then the connection broke.

Thanking Crane seemed like the right thing to do, but I found I lacked the strength. The icy sensation that had come over me left my outsides numb and my insides hollow. The tears
flowed freely and I no longer cared. I wanted to tuck my knees to my chest, close my eyes, and pray that I would wake up and find this had all been a bad dream.

“He needs you right now,” Crane said softly, startling me out of my misery. “The blood loss alone might be too much. I overestimated how much TOXIC wanted to keep him alive.”

I hugged myself, trying to quell the trembling wave starting to make its way through my body. I tucked my chin to my chest and rocked slowly back and forth.

“But, I’ve seen men come back from worse,” Crane continued. “You know what separates the ones that make from those who don’t?”

I said nothing.

“Strength of will. If Penny is any indication, McDonough will have done everything in his power to break Erik’s.”

I shook harder.

“Good thing for him, you have more than enough for both of you.”

I finally looked at Crane, astounded. “I can’t will Erik to live,” I said incredulously.

“No, but you can give him the strength to want to.”

Chapter Four

Twenty minutes later, the hoverplane touched down in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. The medics and Erik deplaned as the wheels were still skimming the grassy runway. They were already hurrying him towards a large tent with a white cross by the time I made my way down the gangplank. I started to run after them, but Frederick stopped me.

“Have a little faith, Tal,” he said quietly. “Those guys are good at what they do.”

“You should get those looked at. They might need stitches,” I replied, pointing to the shiny red marks on his cheeks.

“I put some disinfectant on them. They’ll heal on their own,” he responded dismissively.

Several feet away, Crane and Brand were arguing in low, heated voices. Crane was insisting Brand take the rest of the soldiers and return to the cottage in California. Brand didn’t want to leave Crane here unprotected. A quick glimpse into Crane’s mind told me the Underground stations held mostly civilians. While most, this one included, had weapons arsenals, few of the residents were trained in combat. We’d be sitting ducks if TOXIC attacked.

I surveyed the landscape. Green, brown, and beige tents were interspersed among tall trees. The area was extremely rural and, judging by the thin air, located in the mountains. The tents were likely supposed to be camouflaged to blend into the surrounding nature. Except like many remote areas of the country, Gatlinburg still bore the effects of the Great Contamination. The tree bark was knobby and black, the leaves a vibrant, almost neon, green-yellow. The ground was thickly packed dirt, with swatches of spiky, blue grass sprinkled throughout. The blades looked sharp as razors, and I made a mental note not to walk around barefoot.

“Talia?” a startled voice asked, pulling me from the haze.

I turned. The guy walking towards me began to jog with a pronounced limp. His legs were so long that he covered the distance in seconds. My heart grew wings that fluttered in my chest: Henri. Alive, safe, and not permanently damaged.

“Henri!” I threw my arms around his neck, and buried my face in his thin shirt. He wrapped his long arms protectively around me, making me feel truly safe for the first time in a long time. Relief washed over me as I squeezed him tighter. I’d been so worried about Erik that, after Frederick informed me that Henri was alive, I didn’t fret too much over his well-being.

Henri released me much too soon. When he put me down, he was no longer looking at me, but rather over me. A smile slowly spread across his drawn face, the dimness in his brown eyes disappeared. He’d obviously seen Frederick.

“What are you guys doing here?” Henri called to his boyfriend.

Frederick, trailed by Crane and an irate Brand, joined us. Henri and Frederick embraced, both boys seeming to relax now that they were together. Crane came to stand firmly by my side; he was careful not to get so close that we touched. Brand crossed his arms over his chest, thrust one foot forward, and refused to look at me. He looked like a child who’d been scolded instead of Crane’s second in command. It was immature, particularly at that moment, but I had to work to suppress a giggle.

“We needed a decent medical facility and this was the closest one,” Crane answered Henri.

When Henri and Frederick drew apart, Henri looked weary. He rose to his full height, which was quite impressive, and his muscles tensed. Frederick placed a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. The gesture was meant to calm him, but had little effect on Henri.

“You can trust him,” Frederick said in a low voice.

Well, that answered one question, I thought. Henri had no idea the true nature of Frederick’s job. This made me feel a little better. At least I wasn’t the only one who’d been left in the dark. Then again, I hoped the omission didn’t ruin their relationship like it nearly had mine and Frederick’s. Trust was vital in any relationship, and Frederick had clearly violated Henri’s. Now more than ever, they needed each other.

“What are you doing here with him?” Henri demanded, shrugging Frederick’s hand off. “Frederick, what the hell is going on?”

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t going to go as smoothly as I’d hoped.

I stepped forward; the last thing we needed was a scene. “Henri, why don’t we go sit down and talk about this?” The calm tone in my voice surprised even me. I wasn’t prone to being rational, and after the past week, I was shocked that I had the capacity to act so now.

Henri backed away, looking disgustedly between me and his boyfriend. Frederick reached for him, but Henri swatted at his hand, accusation and hurt mingling in his brown eyes.

“I need some air,” Henri declared, despite the fact that we were surrounded by nothing but fresh air. He turned on his heel, and practically ran for the wooded area surrounding the clearing.

Both Frederick and I moved to go after him.

“Let him go,” Crane said quietly. “He needs time to come to terms with everything before you drop another bombshell.

Frederick started to protest, but I cut him off. “He’s right. It’s a lot to take in.”

“Besides,” Crane continued. “We need to make a plan right now. Brand, you take all the soldiers except for Talia, Frederick, and Janelle. We’ll stay here until Erik is strong enough to travel, then we’ll meet up with you at the cottage.”

Incredulity distorted Brand’s features, and he opened his mouth to make what was certain to be an argument. Crane held up one hand, halting the words in Brand’s throat.

“That’s an order, Soldier,” Crane said, his voice pure authority.

My eyes ping ponged between Crane and Brand. They looked like two unmovable bookends, Frederick and I trapped between their blockades. I wondered how close their relationship really was. I couldn’t imagine that just any soldier would challenge Crane’s authority, yet Brand was openly doing so. Their staring contest reminded me of the battle of wills that had been going on between me and Mac for years.

“Affirmative,
Mr. President
,” Brand finally spat.

“Dismissed, Meadows,” Crane said.

As if to prove a point – no clue to who – Brand remained where he was for a pregnant moment before spinning on his heel and stalking off towards the planes.

“Why don’t you two find the Station Manager and make sleeping arrangements?” Crane suggested after a long silence where the three of us stood staring at one another.

“I want to be there when Erik wakes up,” I protested.

After the way Henri had reacted to Crane, I needed to be there to explain. The last thing I wanted was for Erik to wake up among strangers and believe he’d traded one captor for another. God forbid he tried to strangle another one of Crane’s medical staff. Once was excusable, given the circumstances. A second time? Well, that might not go over so well.

“The best thing you can do right now is get some rest. You haven’t slept in what? Twenty-four hours?”

Longer, I thought. It felt like years since I’d had a good night’s sleep.

“I’ll personally come find you the minute he regains consciousness,” Crane promised as if sensing I was about to put up a fight.

I sighed. I really was exhausted. “Okay,” I agreed.

Frederick and I set off in search of the Station Manager. We found Walter Gains in a large beige tent in the center of a cluster of smaller tents. He was sitting at a makeshift table in one corner, surrounded by loose papers, and typing furiously on a portable communicator. His bald head shot up when we entered.

“Ah, Frederick,” he said, “are you the source of all the commotion?” Oversized wire-rimmed glasses slid down his pointy nose as he spoke. He pushed them back into place only to have them slide down again a second later.

“Hey, Walt. Yeah, sorry we had to make an emergency landing. One of the men we freed from Tramblewood is in pretty bad shape. The medics thought it best to stop here and get him patched up before returning to Coalition territory.”

I shot Frederick a surprised glance. I hadn’t realized our rescue mission was public knowledge.

“Sorry to hear that. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. Were you followed?”

“Briefly. The fighter planes were able to neutralize the situation before we were too far from the prison,” Frederick said tightly.

Translation: the fighters had shot them down. I shuddered. More dead TOXIC Operatives. I prayed Donavon hadn’t been among them.

“I see,” was all Walter said and returned his attention to the communicator.

Frederick cleared his throat, drawing Walter away from his work for a second time. “This is Natalia.” Frederick jerked his head in my direction. Water’s thin eyebrows shot up, and he didn’t try to conceal his surprise when he finally took the time to look me up and down.

“Lots of people looking for you, Ms. Lyons,” he said.

I gave him a tight smile. “I know, sir. I don’t want to cause any trouble for you or the others here. I’ll be gone as soon as Erik is stable.” I really didn’t want to draw TOXIC forces to the station. Enough people had died today already, and the sun had yet to rise.

“This organization is devoted to helping people like you. I, and the other people who live here, are accustomed to risk. Every day that passes without a TOXIC raid is a success in my book. You’re welcome here as long as necessary.”

I gave him a more genuine smile this time, relieved he hadn’t insisted I leave immediately. His generosity reminded me of Adam – the Station Manager at the Underground stop in the tunnels beneath D.C. – and I wondered how he and his people were faring since my departure.

“Thank you,” I told Walter sincerely.

Feet shuffled on the dirt floor behind me, followed by the rustle of canvass as the tent flap opened. I whipped my head around, and watched as Crane entered.

“Conductor Gaines,” he greeted Walter with a quick nod of his head.

“Mr. President,” Walter replied respectfully.

“Talia,” Crane said, turning his attention to me. “There is someone who would like to see you.”

Relief washed over me, causing my muscles to become limp as wet noodles. Erik was awake. “Oh, thank god!” I exclaimed. My feet were already in motion when Crane held up his hand in warning.

“Not so fast. It isn’t Erik.” The bubble of hope in my stomach burst. “I think you’ll be happy to see this person, though.”

I stared at him quizzically. Who would I possibly know at an Underground station in Tennessee? Let alone be happy to see?

Crane motioned for me to follow him. Slowly, I started walking again. Crane held the tent flap open for me to pass through, and then nodded his head to the right. He stayed close to me as we wound through the tents. His arm twitched a couple of times, and I thought he was deciding whether to wrap his arm around my shoulders. He had an undeniable urge to comfort me; I felt that. But a quick swipe of his mind told me he feared overstepping his bounds. His parental instincts where I was concerned were touching, but I was reluctant to trust them. For the life of me, I didn’t understand where they came from.

He led me to a small tent with a white cross emblazoned on the triangle top. Four cots lined each canvass wall, with several more littering the earthen floor in the center. All were empty except for one. The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew Crane had been correct. I wasn’t just happy to see Cadence Choi, I was elated.

Her short, dark hair poked out in every direction, reminding me of a porcupine. Underneath the thin white blanket, one of her legs appeared three times the size of the other. The arm slung across her stomach was wrapped in a bubble of hard blue plastic. When she turned her head, I noticed that half of her face was bandaged with white gauze. She’d seen better days, that was for sure. But she was alive, and I felt like celebrating.

“Cadence!” I exclaimed, and started winding through the cot-maze to get to her. Had someone told me a few weeks ago that I’d practically jump for joy at the sight of her, I’d have told him to have his head examined. Now, though? I wanted to throw my arms around Cadence and tell her how much I’d missed her. And I had missed her. Until that instant I hadn’t realized how much.

She grinned. At least I was pretty sure it was a grin. The gauze obscuring the right side of her mouth made it hard to be sure. “Hey, Talia,” she mumbled.

I knelt next to her bed and reached for her good hand. She flinched when I touched her, and I noticed that the fingers of her “good hand” were swollen into fat, red sausages. My heart sank a little lower in my chest. I knew she’d been hurt, but I had no idea her injuries were so extensive.

“How
ya feeling?” I asked, and instantly regretted the question. Obviously she felt awful. I wanted to smack myself for being so insensitive.

“Been better.” She tried to smile again, but her expression quickly turned sour.

I wanted to comfort her, but I was afraid to touch her again for fear of inflicting more pain. So instead, I did the only thing that I could think of. I dampened her suffering.

Cadence’s body relaxed into the thin mattress. She sighed and her visible eye fluttered several times. As with Erik, absorbing her pain brought about an instant ache that consumed every inch of my body. A sharp, leaden quality tinged the pain, making my heady woozy and my vision unfocused. Painkillers, I realized. She was higher than a hovercraft.