Hunted (12 page)

I can understand his hatred of Normals after what they did to him. I know the glimpses I got were just that—

glimpses. But to condemn an entire group of people because of something a few did—that’s too close to what the Normals do to us.

Someone’s trying to get my attention. I open myself up.

“Caitlyn, can you hear me? Are you okay?”
Rachel thinks at me.

“Yeah.”

“I was worried when you didn’t show up in class—

with the ParaTrooper here today.”

“I got through. Some others before me almost didn’t.

Do you know if the trooper took anyone?”
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Cheryl Rainfield

“Just one, I think.”

One who I didn’t protect. Whoever it was must have come after I did. But at least I saved three of us. I can’t help wondering, though, who the trooper took. Was it the telepath I felt in the pool? Or another telekinetic like Paul?

I pull my thoughts away, trying not to focus on the pain. It must be on the news, with all those hungry reporters crawling outside the school. Mom will have heard about it by now.

Mom! I text her, let her know I’m okay. I wonder sometimes if I forget to text her because I’m angry that she doesn’t connect with me mind-to-mind anymore. It was so hard to train myself to communicate with her the way Normals do. I sigh and turn off my phone. I feel guilty not telling her about Daniel. But something doesn’t feel right.

And I don’t want her getting hurt more than she already is.

It
is
Daniel, I’m sure of it. But he’s changed so much.

For years I’ve had to pretend to be as restricted as a Normal. Pretend to
be
a Normal. But with this new technique Daniel taught me, I don’t know if that’s necessary anymore. If I can convince Normals that I was in class all along, what’s to stop me from using a little persuasion anytime I need to?

I wonder if it works on other Paras. Can I use it to force Daniel to tell me what’s really going on? He shouldn’t be able to keep anything from me now.

The bell rings and I walk out into the hall with the other students to find Rachel waiting for me. “It feels weird having a ParaTrooper in our school. Like we’re a military 152

HUNTED

state. I don’t think anybody likes it—except the die-hard Para-haters.”

We turn the corner and almost bump into Becca.

“Speaking of which,” I say in an undertone.

Rachel smothers a laugh.

Becca narrows her eyes at me. “So the trooper didn’t take you, new girl? I’m surprised.”

“You never know, there’s always tomorrow,” I say and keep walking.

Rachel scurries after me, laughing with wide eyes.

“Why did you say that?”

I shrug. But I know why. Sometimes, if you don’t laugh, you’ll burst into tears. And that attracts attention.

We reach the stairwell and I say, “See you later!” Rachel scrunches up her nose. “Isn’t your class the other way?”

“I’ve got something to do. I’ll explain later.”
If I can.

I head down the stairs into the basement. I can feel Daniel’s presence the closer I get.

Daniel meets me in the boiler room. “Caitlyn. You want to ask me something.”

“You’re keeping secrets from me—you and Ilene.” Daniel looks at me, his face smooth, his emotion hidden. “We were waiting until we thought you were ready to hear everything.”

Because he thought I wouldn’t like it.
My chest is tight.

“Tell me now or I walk.”

Daniel stands there, his eyes sad. He blows out his breath loudly. “Okay. You have the right to know. Ilene was the one who thought we should wait. . . . You saw what the 153

Cheryl Rainfield

crowd did to Dad. Normals are never going to
give
us equality; we have to take it.”

He gives me a sidelong look and I know something big is coming.

“If any of them tries to stop us—well, this time we’re not letting them.”

Suddenly, flashes of Normals being killed, screaming under torture, and enslaved to Paras, tear through my mind.

I stare at Daniel, my eyes so wide they hurt. “But Daniel—if we do the same thing to Normals that they’ve done to us, it makes us no better than they are.”

“Do you really think we can keep living like this?”

“But you’re talking about murder. Slavery. Torturing them if they don’t comply.”

“Yes.” Daniel looks at me steadily. “They’ve had their chance to rule fairly and all they did was oppress us.

They’ve brought this on themselves.” I want to shake him; I don’t get why he can’t see that what he’s planning on doing to the Normals is the exact same thing Normals have done to us—and it’s why he hates them.

Daniel shakes his head. “We’re not oppressing them; we’re righting a wrong. Surely you can see that?” A muscle clenches in his jaw. He’s as frustrated as I am. But that doesn’t make him right.

I reach out to him. There’s a hardness in his core, like stone, that didn’t used to be there. All the torture, the training—it’s changed him. He is my big brother, but I don’t know him anymore.

“Dad would never approve,” I say desperately.

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“They
murdered
Dad. How do you know what he’d think if he came back? I doubt he’d be so quick to forgive.

How can you even
be
on their side, after what they did to him? After what they did to
me
?” Daniel turns away, his voice short and clipped, and I know he’s trying to hide his pain.

“I’m not on their side!” I cry.

“You’re either with them, or you’re with us,” Daniel says hoarsely, his back stiff. He turns around, his face carved in pain. “You’ve got a lot of talent, Caitlyn. We can accomplish great things if we work together. We can bring real freedom to Paras throughout the country, even the world. We can end all the misery and unfairness. But you have to want it.”

“I do want it. But not this way!”

Daniel looks like he’s going to cry. It makes my chest ache, but beneath the tears, I see a coldness that doesn’t go away.

“Ilene said you’d be like this, but I didn’t believe her.

You’re too smart. And you
felt
Dad be killed by the Normals. I know you did.”

I look at him, startled. He could feel me after we got separated—and he didn’t connect?

Daniel pushes out his breath. “You’ve got a few days to change your mind, Caitlyn. Maybe a week, tops. But when the revolution starts—if you’re not clearly on our side, then you’re against us. And we’ll treat you that way.”

“Daniel!”

He shakes his head and walks away.

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CHAPTER 15

Alex is leaning against my locker, looking casual and beautiful. My heart pounds so hard I can’t quite catch my breath.

Alex pushes off my locker when I get close. “It’s freaky having a ParaTrooper right in our school, isn’t it?” he says.

“It sure is,” I say.

“I keep thinking about that guy—Paul—who got arrested. If there’s any other Paras here, they must be shitting their pants.”

I nod, not knowing where he’s going with this.

“I wish we could do something to help them, you know?” he says. “I mean—it’s like we’ve got the Gestapo with us. ‘Heil Hitler’ and all that.”

“I know,” I say quietly. “Just . . . don’t say that too loudly. They’re probably going to come down even harder on Para-supporters.”

“I’m not sure if I
want
to keep quiet,” Alex says stubbornly. “Doesn’t that just condone it?” 156

HUNTED

I smile at him. New Para-supporters have zeal. “But if we all get put away, who will support the Paras?” Alex rubs his chin. “Good point. You’re smart, girl.” I grin. “I know.”

“We on for lunch?”

I nod. “You, me, and Rachel.”

Alex looks disappointed when I mention her, but he recovers quickly and says, “Good.”

e

Rachel, Alex, and I all fit into a booth again, like we belong there. It’s a good feeling, but the ParaTrooper in the school has my stomach tied tight and I don’t feel like eating.

Rachel looks at my almost untouched meal, then pushes her plate toward me. “You want to try these sweet potato fries? They’re delish.”

I shake my head.

Rachel leans forward, lowering her voice. “You think this is a permanent thing, the ParaTrooper at school? Everyone’s so jumpy, like they’re all waiting to accuse someone or to be accused.”

“I hope not.” I turn my fork over and over in my hand.

“I don’t see why they’d pull back now, though. They take power; they don’t give it up.”

“Yeah,” Alex says, shaking his head. “I gotta agree with you. Most slave owners had to be forced to give up their slaves, and that took a long, bloody fight.” 157

Cheryl Rainfield

Rachel hunches her shoulders. “You’re right. But for Paras to have to go through this every day—waiting to see if the trooper will single them out”—she glances at Alex, then away—“it must be so hard for them. I don’t know if I could take it.” She pushes her plate farther away, then looks at me.
“It’s gotta be so much worse for you. But I keep worrying that my dad’s genes will set off something in me.”
I lean forward. “It must be like waiting for someone to turn on you, and not knowing if they will. Not knowing if they know your secret or not.”

“It’s gotta be hell,” Alex says.

“Hell,” Rachel says, nodding.

What little food I’ve eaten sits heavily in my stomach.

I have a feeling the Para-hatred is going to keep getting stronger. And my own brother is making it worse.

e

After my last class, I start walking away from school, my feet heavy. It feels like my world is falling in on me.

Para-hatred is getting stronger. Freedom is getting more and more restricted. And Daniel . . . My throat closes. I can’t believe he really thinks that what he’s doing is the best way to solve things.

I rub my forehead. It’s another few steps before I realize that something is wrong. I feel weak and dizzy, like something’s draining my energy. But it’s not me that’s being drained. It’s another Para, somewhere close by—her talent getting sucked from her like the blood from her veins.

“Help!”

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I run toward the fading energy, my breath harsh in my throat.
“Hang on!”

But the Para is weakening fast, her mind almost completely shut down.

I round the corner, back toward the school, but then I’ve run right past it. I turn back. There’s a narrow alley-way between two storefronts. I swallow my fear and start forward—and then I lose the connection.

She’s gone.

I know it before I even see the girl’s shoe, her leg awkwardly splayed, her body emaciated, like she died from suddenly aging at least a hundred years. But even so, I recognize her face—a girl I’ve passed in the halls and seen at the cafe.

Fear holds me rigid. This has to be the work of the Para-Reaper. I should get out of here—now.

I peer into the alley, past the girl. I don’t see anyone, but I get a flash of an emotional high—utter glee—vibrating through the air toward me and then it’s gone.

I turn and vomit, my lunch coming up in a sour rush. I heave until nothing else comes up, then shakily wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Daniel!”
I send, like a cry. The way I used to when we were little and something bad happened.

“Caitlyn, what is it? What’s wrong?”
I send him jumbled images, mixed with my terror.

“My god. Get out of there, Caitlyn!”

“But what about the girl? Her family?”

“I’ll tell Ilene and the others. We’ll get a group down
there to claim her body before the ParaTroopers find it, and
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Cheryl Rainfield

someone to notify her parents. But Cait—you need to get
out of there
right now.
It’s not safe.”
I know he’s right. There’s nothing I can do for the girl, not any more.

My feet feel like lead weights. I shake myself and head back toward the motel in a daze. This isn’t the work of a trooper. It can’t be. I shudder, wishing I could get the sight of the girl’s shriveled body out of my mind. Someone runs up behind me and I whirl around—but it’s just Daniel.

“Cait, are you okay?” he says, touching my arm. It’s the first time he’s voluntarily touched me. His fear and pain is as jagged as mine.

I notice the gesture, but all I can think about is the girl my age—the girl who went to my school—who was killed because she was a Para.

“Ilene sent someone out to take care of it,”
Daniel sends.
“At least her family will know what happened to
her.”

But that’s cold comfort. It’s not like it can make her alive again or stop the Para-Reaper.

“Did you see anyone? Sense anyone?”
Daniel asks.

“No. And I should have. But I think the killer—the
Para-Reaper—isn’t just doing it because he hates us. I think
he’s doing it to pull in energy. That’s what it felt like—that
her abilities and life energy were being drained right out of
her.”

Daniel’s face pales.
“Is that even possible?”

“That’s what it felt like to me.”

“That’s sick,”
Daniel sends.

“Yeah.”

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“You want me to walk you back?”

“No, I’m okay,” I say.

“All right,” Daniel says. But I feel him watch me walk all the way down the street.

e

The motel owner doesn’t look at me when I walk into the lobby. Her shame spreads thickly into me.
. . . I can’t believe I let her see me like that . . .

“Hi,” I say, forcing brightness into my voice.

She looks up briefly, her eyes not quite meeting mine.

. . . How did she know where I was anyway?. . .

I stand there awkwardly. “I hope you didn’t mind my coming by yesterday. I could hear you crying—” The woman looks up at me then.
. . . Did she read my
mind? . . .
“Naw, it’s okay,” she says, shaking her head.

“Okay. Well, if you need to talk . . .” I can’t believe I’m offering that.

“Naw, get on with you!” the woman says, and laughs painfully. “I’m better off without that jackass anyway.” Mom’s sitting tensely listening to the radio when I get back to our room. “They’ve blocked off all the exits,” she says, her voice wobbling. “Everyone going in or out gets scanned by a Government Paranormal. They’re looking for Teen Para, damn her.”

“You don’t still believe she committed those crimes, do you?”

“It doesn’t matter whether she did or not. We’re the ones paying for it.” Mom puts her head between her hands.

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Cheryl Rainfield

“I don’t know what to do. Maybe we should take you out of school. Hole up until this passes over.”

“We’d look more suspicious.”

Mom lets her hands fall. “I know. And they’re talking about starting up patrols, setting up a curfew.” She looks up at me, her eyes haunted. “I don’t know how to protect you anymore.”

I pull a chair over and sit down beside her. “It’s okay, Mom. I can protect myself.”

Mom squeezes my hand. “Sure you can,” she says, her voice high.

I don’t need to read her mind to know that she doesn’t really think I can.

e

In the morning, tension and fear ripple off people as they rush through the streets, heads down, not looking at one another. I’ve only gone a block before I see a ParaTrooper patrolling the streets, his black boots thumping along the sidewalk, one hand on the gun in his holster.

I walk faster, keeping my gaze averted, hoping he doesn’t look my way.

It’s almost a relief to get to school and be admitted by the ParaTrooper I’ve already dealt with. He glares at me like he remembers me. I can feel him waiting for me to look at him the wrong way or to answer with hesitation so he can send me to lockup.

“Let her go,”
I send, pushing at his mind.
“She’s boring. Normal.”

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The trooper frowns at me. His fingers twitch on his gun.

I push harder, the effort making my head ache. Warm liquid trickles down my nostril. I wipe at it. Blood.

Not now! I sniff it up, trying to hold it in.

“Let her go,”
I nudge him harder. The ParaTrooper waves me through.

Rachel’s waiting for me at my locker. “So you got through okay.”

“Yep.” I glance at her sideways.

“Caitlyn—you’re bleeding!”

“It’s nothing,” I say quickly, but she’s already pushing a tissue into my hand.

I hold it there until the bleeding stops.

“Someone punch you?” Becca asks sweetly, stopping in front of me. “I would have loved to have seen that.” Thank god we don’t all have the same symptoms and that Normals haven’t clued in.

“I think you’re more of a target than I am, with your attitude problem,” I say.

“That’s what you think,” she says. Then I hear her think, “
… Just you wait, Para-trash!...”
Becca laughs snidely. The warning bell rings, and she whirls around and stalks away.

Rachel grabs her bag. “We’re going to be late.” I don’t know if I care.
I should.
Blend in, stay unnoticed. But something feels wrong. Something bigger. I’m breathing shallowly, like I’m waiting for something bad to happen. Waiting for Daniel to do something—because he will; I know he will. Daniel never gives up.

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Cheryl Rainfield

I keep pace with Rachel and try to ignore the bad feeling.

Lockers slam shut, girls check their makeup, boys shove each other, sneakers squeaking in the hall. Zippers unzip, flesh slaps against flesh, laughter rings out. And threading throughout it all is the mind-noise of people’s thoughts, constant and unrelenting.

. . . help me . . .

The mind-voice is tight and high with panic. But underneath it is a goodness I know.

Alex?
I stop in my tracks.

Someone bumps into me, their thoughts like a slap. I reach for the panicked voice.

. . . somebody help me . . .

Alex. God, it’s Alex!

. . . can’t breathe . . . too tight . . .

I get a flash of darkness, cold metal pressing against cheek, stuffy air, dirty-feet smell, trouble breathing.

If I help him he’ll know. There’s no way he can’t.

I tremble so hard my teeth chatter. He could turn me in.

But I can’t let him suffer.

Rachel’s saying something to me, but I can’t hear her words. I focus all my energy, send as loud as I can.
“Alex—

where are you?”

“Caitlyn?”
Alex sounds startled, hopeful.
“How—? . . .”

“Just tell me where you are.”

“I don’t know. Somebody’s locker. The cowards
jumped me from behind. It’s hard to breathe.”

“Okay. Hold on, I’m coming. Just keep thinking at
me.”

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Fear and hope crash into me like a body slam.

I shove aside my own fear and stride down the hall toward his thoughts.

Rachel grips my arm. “What is it?”

“It’s Alex. Someone’s shut him in a locker.” And I think I know who that someone is. I walk faster.

There aren’t many people left in the halls.

. . . choking . . . chest aching . . .

I run.

Rachel runs beside me. “Can I do anything?” I shake my head, tears streaming as I run.

The hall’s almost empty and our footsteps echo loudly.

Classroom doors close; the PA system screeches as it turns on, the national anthem blaring out.

I reach out, pushing past all the jumbled voices until I feel Alex’s weakening voice again.

. . . can’t believe I didn’t see . . . this is why she’s so
aware . . . don’t let this be our last . . .

I run down the hall toward his voice. His fear gets heavier, pressing down on my chest like a slab of marble.

“Just hold on.”
I turn the corner, my sneakers squeaking against the polished floor, Rachel right behind me.

Cold anger whips into me. Daniel is leaning against a pus-yellow locker, his arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re
going to risk your freedom for a Normal? But you’re not
willing to risk anything to help your own kind?”
Disgust and loathing billows off him, stronger than his incredulity, his pain at my betrayal.

“Of course I’ll help other Paras. But not through
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