Talent Storm (35 page)

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Authors: Brian Terenna

BOOK: Talent Storm
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“Hmm, I can see how that could help. I tend to pile negative thoughts on top of each other.”

She playfully jabbed me in the ribs. “Yeah, piles of negativity won’t make you feel good.”

She went to jab me again, but I pushed her hand away, smiling. “Neither will you poking me.” She laughed. “What about your talent?” I asked. “Can’t you just make yourself feel better?”

“I can, but it’s a short term solution. Still, I should have erased your sadness immediately.”

I liked the sound of that. “Can you do it now?”

“I will, but we only can once in a while. If we do it too much you’ll gain a tolerance to my power, needing more and more just to feel normal. It’s like an addiction.”

Suddenly, my mind tingled. My worries faded, my emotions melting away. I almost felt happy. I still knew I should feel terrible for losing Lilly, but I felt fine. “Wow. Yeah, I could see how I could get addicted to that.”

She winked, smiling radiantly. “I also might not always be with you.”

I opened my eyes wide, and put my hand to my mouth. “Ooo, that
would
be bad.”

She smiled, hitting me gently on the arm. “I meant to help you out with an emotional jolt.”

I slouched a bit, already feeling some of my euphoria fading.

“I’ll use my talent on you once a day for a few weeks to help speed up the process. During that time, you should practice thought pushing, which will be the long term solution.”

I’d be seeing a lot of her. There was something about her that I admired and that attracted me. It was so soon after Lilly that I felt ashamed. I should avoid her to be safe. “I don’t know.”

“You need me.”

Of course, she was right. What could I achieve in this state? I needed to be focused; I needed to live for revenge. “All right.” I’d just have to be careful around her. “I really appreciate your help.”

“Good, because it’s taking a lot of my time,” she said, tapping my arm with a smile. “Now get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I smiled and waved as she left.

☼☼☼

Walking down a dark alley, my eyes darted around, and a shiver ran up my spine. An ear-piercing screech, like that from a terrible monster, rang out in the distance. I cringed at the threat, my breathing accelerating. At the sound of movement behind me, I whirled around, panic-stricken. A mouse ran away, along the sidewall. I relaxed, slumping a little.

A hand grasped my shoulder, and I gasped. Sparking green, I lashed out with talent, then spun around to see a woman smack into a rock wall. Her bones cracked with the impact, and her eyes rolled back. It was Lilly. My heart skipped a beat, and I sprinted over to her.

What had I done? “I didn’t know it was you,” I said, crying.

At the sound of a squeak, I looked up as a door opened in the alleyway wall. I walked through the door, unable to resist. It slammed behind me, consuming me in total darkness. At the sound of a click, overhead lights illuminated the room. My eyes flashed open, my body suddenly cold. The countless corpses of all the people I’d killed surrounded me. Some had crushed heads or missing limbs. All were bloody and decaying.

“Leave me alone,” I yelled. “You had to die.”

The eyes of a young man suddenly flew open. I could still remember him pleading for his life before I killed him.

“Why did you kill me?” he asked. “You didn’t have to. I had a family.”

“You had to die. You were working for
him
,” I said, spitting out the last word. “You all had to die.” Didn’t they?

“Even me?”

I staggered back at the sound of Lilly’s voice. I turned. She lay on her back, her body twisted and her face bloodless.

“You let me die. Why didn’t you save me when you walked by my cell?”

I fell to my knees, my face lowered in my hands. “I don’t know. I’m so sorry.”

At the sound of people crawling over to me, my head bolted up. All of the decaying bodies stood over me, knives in their hands. I threw my arms up defensively and shut my eyes. Their blades swung down in quick succession, biting into my flesh.

I woke, screaming, my lungs pumping air like overworked bellows. My body tingled with the sharp pains of pins and needles. Throwing the covers off, I tried to cool myself down. I jumped as my door opened, but at seeing Sofia, I relaxed.

“Jaden are you all right?” she asked. She walked up and put her arms around me.

I wasn’t all right.

“It’s okay,” she said as she rubbed my back. Her emotional talent washed over me, and my fear faded. “It’s okay, just go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She smiled at me, pulling the covers up.

Why was she so nice to me?

☼☼☼

Sofia’s Journal:

 

The mission Val assigned me is off to a good start. She asked me to attract Jaden so that he’d join us. At first, I was pissed that she asked me to do something like that. It’s not right to lie to people or play with their emotions, but in the end, it had to be done. We could never hope to defeat Goldwater without him, and he’ll die if he tries on his own. Goldwater needs to be destroyed, whatever the cost. I just hope that Jaden will forgive me when he finds out, or I tell him. Thank Talent I stopped the blade from piercing his heart when he tried to kill himself. What a waste that would have been.

☼☼☼

Over the next few days, I spent time with Sofia and had conversations with Kevin and Barid. Kevin seemed like a nice, intelligent guy. Barid came across as very confident or maybe arrogant; I wasn’t sure.

Someone knocked on my door, and I propped myself up on my bed. “Come in.”

Kevin peeked his head in, looking uncertain. “Am I disturbing you?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. How’s it going?”

He smiled, pushing the door all the way open before entering the room. “Things are good. I was just a little bored. I came to see if you wanted to play chess.” He held up a board. “Ever play?”

“Yeah, I used to play a lot with a friend of mine.” Thinking of Ben, I suddenly began to feel sad. Why did I have to let him die? Stop, I shouted in my mind, ending the line of thought.

He nodded. “Any good?”

“I don’t lose often, unless I make a stupid mistake. Let’s put it that way. How about you?”

“I’ve never lost,” he said. He placed the set on the bed and sat behind it.

I squinted at him, shaking my head. “Trying to intimidate me?”

He laughed. “No, that’s not necessary.”

Now I had some real incentive to beat him. We would see who was better. After the board was set up, we began. He let me play white, my definite preference. I opened with the King’s Gambit, an aggressive attack, reminiscent of my battle tendencies. The ultra-fast attack temporarily caught Kevin off guard. His development was slow in response to my opening. After twenty or so more moves, my pieces were positioned for a grand attack.

I grunted when he made an unexpected move, stalling my progress. “Good move.”

After rebuilding, I attacked again but was met by a perfect defense. I huffed, frustrated. Every attack I threw his way, he deflected flawlessly. I should have played the Queen’s Gambit, a more conservative opening.

Eventually my attacks fizzled, and he was up material. He rolled one of my dead knights between his thumb and pointer finger. He nodded with a grunt, then his attack began. I was a mean defender though. His pieces moved into perfect positions, striking and keeping me off balance. I barely held him off with a razor thin defense. I strained my mind, seeking ways to regain the initiative. Then it came to me. I just had to— Kevin moved his bishop from in front of his rook. “Check mate.”

Damn, a discovered mate. How did I fall for that? Looking up with my eyebrows raised, I laughed. “All right, you’re good. We’ll have to play again sometime. Next time, I’ll play it safer.”

“Thanks. You’ve got some skills yourself,” he said. “One of these days you’re going to beat me. Your opening threw me off a bit. I haven’t seen the King’s Gambit in some time. You had better not play it next time though. I remembered a sure fire way to destroy it a few moves too late.”

He was being nice. It was hard to imagine ever beating him. “Thanks. So how did you end up with The Underground anyway?” I said, changing the subject away from my defeat. I never did like to lose.

“When I was young, I lived a posh life with my parents. My father was Duke Rutherford Clay’s accountant. Maybe he still is. He made more money than half a ward combined and worked a third of the hours. We were like kings compared to most people. We also enjoyed more freedoms because of our wealth. I didn’t pay much attention to how bad things were for everyone until I got a little older. A friend of mine opened my eyes to the state of Liberty and the true extent of Goldwater’s corruption. After that, I began to speak out against the government, which is illegal.

“Despite being arrested a few times, my parents’ wealth managed to keep me out of prison. After my third arrest, however, my parents abandoned me,” he said, lowering the inside of his eyebrows. “I understand, in a logical way. They didn’t want to lose their easy lives. Living poor is terrible. Most people exist in squalor, wearing ripped clothes, eating scraps of food, and working eighteen-hour days. Still, they were my parents, my mother and father. You always know that your parents will be there for you until they aren’t. It crushed me when they chose their reputation and money over me. I never saw them again. Since then, I’ve found it very difficult to trust anyone. It took me a while, but now I trust Valleri implicitly. I’ve only known you for a short time, but I feel like I can trust you too.”

“You
can
trust me,” I said, speaking the truth.

He smiled, nodding. “After that, I was sentenced for twenty years, which is when I met Valleri. Her cell was next to mine. They should have been more careful. Back then, she wasn't a rebel leader, but felt strongly about fighting for freedom. We couldn’t talk much, for fear of being discovered. When we could talk, I was impressed by her viewpoints and passion. The government sorely underestimated Val. Had they known what she’d become, they would have executed her immediately. After a few months of imprisonment, we were liberated by a group of rebels. Now, I’m the healer and the brains around here, although Barid would challenge the latter,” he said, smiling.

☼☼☼

Over the next few weeks, I ate regular meals, but brought them to my room rather than eating in the mess hall. Now that I was eating regularly, my body was filling out. I did inclined and declined pushups, sit-ups, squats, and jumps to build my body. I whipped my mace around with talent-aided muscles in practice swings, thrusts, and blocks. I began to feel like myself again, someone I recognized, but inside I knew I wasn’t the same. I’d never be the same again. When my body was fully recovered, I’d set off to execute my goal to kill Goldwater. Although I knew it was impossible, I had to try... for Lilly.

I hung out with Sofia and Kevin daily, Kevin and I playing chess and talking about philosophies of government and ethics. I enjoyed our time debating. He forced me to stretch my mind and think in depth. I talked to Barid again a couple times. Despite his cockiness and narcissism, he was a good guy. Once, I even had a conversation with Pavel. He asked me how I was doing. I told him a little better every day.

When I asked him the same question, he said, ‘For me, every day is the same. I practice fighting and my illusions. My only goal is to free Liberty.’ I asked him if he thought we could win. He said, ‘Yes. With Valleri leading us and now you, we can’t lose.’ I was surprised by his certainty.

The day after that, Valleri had informed me that my uncle and Ben’s dad were successfully warned and moved to safe locations. At least something went right in my life.

Although misery was a constant guest in the back of my mind, I managed to exist. When I thought about the horrors of my past, I pushed them away, refusing to give in. Sofia’s talent helped too, of course. Her daily visits were one of the few things I had to look forward to. I always felt better when she was around, even when she wasn’t using her talent on me.

☼☼☼

After gaining permission, Barid walked into my room, with a case strapped on his back. “Hey, how’ve you been?”

“All right,” I said while shrugging and felt soreness in my shoulders from my lifting. I pointed to the case he had. “What do you have there?”

Barid reached back and collected it. “This?” he asked as if he forgot it was there. “I brought my guitar.”

I inhaled sharply. “A guitar? Can I see it?” I’d never seen one up close. Instruments were rare in the Coalition since they were largely thought to be a waste of materials. The last time I saw one was at one of the infrequent concerts in Rapid City with my parents, my dead parents. How many have I lost? How many were at my hands? Stop, I thought while picturing a stop sign. I wouldn’t go down that road again. My emerging misery faded. Sofia’s technique made a lot of sense. I never realized that my thoughts had so much control over my emotions.

After unzipping the case, Barid removed the guitar. He lifted it with a smile before extending his arm toward me. “Here, check it out but be careful, it means a lot to me.”

Wide eyed, I ran my hand down the back of the neck. I never thought I’d hold one. Its polished surface was light in the center and darker toward the edges. The strings and black pick-guard were raised off the body, and two treble clefs were carved out on either side.

“Where’d you get it?” I asked, handing it back to him.

He smiled, but his eyes didn’t show it. “It was my fathers and has been in my family for generations. It’s a nineteen fifty-six Gibson.”

“Wow, that’s old. I can’t believe it’s still around.”

“Me either. Before all this went down, I was in a family band. We were good and led prosperous lives. We even played for Grand Duke Horn’s children a few times.”

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