Hunted (15 page)

This is my chance to find out why he did what he did.

I think I already know, but I want to be sure. And I’ve got to do it without letting him sense me.

“When I beat Alex up, stuffed him in the locker . . . ,”
I send, layering my thoughts with his own thought pattern.

I wait. Nothing.

I try again.
“When I beat Alex up . . .”

. . . gave me the biggest rush! . . . making a Normal
cower
—Caitlyn’s
Normal . . . never saw us coming . . .

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Cheryl Rainfield

I feel sick deep in the pit of my stomach.
“Me and . . .

Zack and those three Normals I convinced to help us. They
are so gullible. Like Caitlyn’s loverboy could ever have a
talent. Man, we gave that Normal a beating he’ll never forget. Serves him right, sucking her face like he’s one of us

. . .

I swallow back a minipuke. If I needed any more proof that I should run, this is it. But I can’t leave now. Daniel won’t stop hating Alex and Rachel just because I’ve left.

I want to rest my head on my knees and weep, or punch my fist into the chair. But I don’t do either. I just sit there, letting his thoughts wash over me.

. . . stupid Caitlyn, doesn’t even know what’s coming

. . .

I want to scream.
“What’s coming?”

“What? Caitlyn?”
I feel him reach for me, malevolent energy ready to strike, just as I leap out of his mind. I pull myself back to the library, to the hardness of the chair, the firmness of the floor beneath my feet. I slap shields around myself, blocking him out as best as I can.

I got into Daniel’s mind unnoticed! At least until he sensed me.

I rub a shaky hand over my face. Daniel may think he’s more powerful than anyone, but deep down, he’s insecure and frightened. And the Daniel I once knew—he’s still there under the layers of hardness. But the hardness has become more who he is. It’s who he wants to be. Who he must have felt he needed to be to survive.

I stretch and look around. The library is deserted—

chairs resting upside down on tables, students and their 194

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bags all gone, a hollow, listening feeling to the room—

though the lights are still on.

A door in the back of the library opens, and Mrs. Vespa walks in, a stack of books in her arms. “Ah, you’re back.

Did you figure out whatever it was you had to figure out?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, my heart quickening.

Mrs. Vespa smiles wryly. “I’ve seen‘. . .
Paras, my
grandmother, my best friend
. . .’ creative, intelligent people zone out like that before. Usually when they’re trying to figure out a solution to a problem.” She knows! God, she knows! But I force my heart to slow, keep my breathing even. She’s been around Paras her whole life. She’s loved some Paras. She would never turn one in.

I force a laugh. “You got me. Yeah, I think I figured it out.”

“Good.” Mrs. Vespa nods smartly. She sets her books down on the table carefully, not looking at me. “If you ever need help figuring out . . . a problem, I hope you’ll feel you can turn to me.” She casually tents her hands to form a P.

Relief floods me. She’s part of the Underground, a Para-supporter. I make the symbol back, and she nods, just the smallest movement of her head.

I leave the library feeling happier, safer. But then I start to think how I told myself I wasn’t going to connect with the Underground until I knew who the rat was. What if Mrs.

Vespa is the one after me? But I don’t recognize her mind-voice, and I don’t think she recognized mine. She just saw something that reminded her of the Paras she’s loved. And she doesn’t feel malevolent, not on any level.

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Cheryl Rainfield

I push open the school doors and step out into the late afternoon sun. I think I can trust her. I’m going to until I see something that tells me otherwise.

Alex jumps off the staircase railing, landing gracefully on the asphalt beside me. “Caitlyn.”

“Were you waiting for me?”

“No. Yes. I mean—all right, I was.” He smiles sheep-ishly. “You wanna do something? Take a walk?” He holds out his hand.

I tentatively put my hand in his, waiting for the explosion of thoughts, but all I feel is happiness.

We walk down the street together, our legs moving in synchronicity, our palms warming each other’s. It’s so inti-mate, holding someone else’s hand. Letting their skin warm yours.

As we walk, I take in the green leaves on the trees, the vivid blue of the sky, the strength of Alex’s hand. There is so much beauty in the world, even when there’s pain and fear. It’s the beauty that wraps around me now. We pass stores and apartments, until I realize I’m leading us back to the motel.

I stop. “You feel like a swim? It’s a bit grungy, though.”

Alex smiles a slow, easy grin. “I’m game for anything.” I push through the entrance, nodding to the motel owner who watches us curiously, then lead Alex out back to the pool. Leaves and garbage float along the surface.

Alex whistles. “You weren’t kidding about the grungy part.”

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“I know. But it’s still a pool.” Already I can feel the lure of the water, the blessed silence.

“Yeah.” Alex walks around the edge, looking in.

My cheeks burn. What was I thinking of, bringing him here?

Alex strips off his shorts and T-shirt, his bathing suit underneath, and cannonballs into the pool, T-shirt in hand.

He walks down the length, swimming in the deep end, dragging his T-shirt behind him like a net to collect all the de-bris. In just a few laps, the pool looks better. Swimmable.

Shareable.

“Come on in!” he calls.

I strip down to my bathing suit, then slide into the pool.

The cool water closes over me, the buzz of thoughts disappearing. I swim to Alex. He pulls me up against him, then squeezes my butt.

I shriek and splash him. He pulls away, laughing.

I wish he could connect with me the way I connect with him. I’m just going to have to vocalize more.

“You look serious all of a sudden,” he says and closes the distance, kissing me again. “What are you thinking?” I burst out laughing. Maybe he doesn’t need telepathy.

“That I need to tell you things when they come up, instead of wishing you could hear them.”

“Damn right you do. I’m at a disadvantage here,” he says, splashing me again.

I splash him back.

Alex grabs my hand, his eyes suddenly serious, cutting off my laughter. “I feel so good with you, Caitlyn, in a way that I don’t with anyone else.” 197

Cheryl Rainfield

Goose bumps rise on my skin. “I feel that way, too.” And I do. When I’m with Alex, it’s like we’re two bowls nestled inside each other. No sharp edges, just a perfect fit.

Like home. I haven’t felt that way since Dad died.

Alex pulls me to him, then lifts me up in both his arms, the water holding most of my weight. I wrap my arms around his neck, resting my cheek against his shoulder, the water gently lapping at us. I feel weightless in Alex’s embrace, almost like I can fly. I raise my head and kiss him, not able to get enough of him. I even like the taste of chlorine and salt because it’s on him.

Between the water and Alex, all the mind-noise is gone. I could float on this feeling forever.

I kiss him again and he kisses me back, his warm breath sending shivers through me.

There’s an electricity between us, a current that connects us. I touch his chest, the muscles firm, and feel his heart pounding. His breath is coming faster now.

Alex’s lips find mine again and warmth bursts through me. I’ve never felt this good right through my whole body, or felt this close to anyone without connecting mind-to-mind. It’s probably the closest Normals can come to telepathy.

We kiss until my lips feel bruised and then I pull away.

I feel so much pent-up energy inside me that I don’t know what to do.

“Race you!” I call, twisting away. Then I surge forward.

I hear him leap after me, feel the movement in the 198

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water. I swim hard and deep, keeping my legs straight and giving it all I’ve got.

Alex moves up beside me. Just as I get close to the edge he passes me, slapping the tile and laughing.

He shakes his head, spraying water everywhere.

“Damn, girl, you sure can swim! You’d be our secret weapon on the team.”

“Next year,” I say, knowing even as I say it that I probably won’t be here anymore.

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CHAPTER 20

I pull myself up out of the pool and Alex comes up behind me, dripping cold water on me. I squeal and reach for my towel. When I turn around, the delight seeps out of me.

There are dark bruises all over Alex’s stomach and legs. Alex towels off like there’s nothing wrong. “I’ve had worse, believe me.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

I touch my fingers to a bruise on his chest. I made this happen. I put him in danger by being seen with him—

No. I didn’t do this. Daniel and his buddies did.

“There were five of them,” I say, keeping my voice steady. “Daniel, another Para, and three Normals he co-erced. They jumped you from behind.” Alex stiffens. “How do you—?”

“I got it from Daniel—from his thoughts.”

“You went into his thoughts?” Alex lowers his voice, even though there’s no one else here. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Not if he doesn’t catch me.”

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“But he has it in for you,” Alex says flatly. He towels off his hair. “How are we going to stop him?”

“I don’t know.”

Alex shakes his head. “You can’t just leave it like that.

He could destroy you.”

Alex is right. I rub my aching chest. But I don’t have a solution.

e

I sit and stare at the wall in our motel room, my body heavy. Alex left hours ago and I still can’t make myself move. I know I should do something, anything. Get my homework done. Make supper before Mom gets home. But I can’t think clearly. I’m having trouble even caring. There’s just so much wrong and I don’t know how to fix any of it.

A key turns in the lock. I get up slowly, feeling worn out, using the back of the chair for support.

“Sorry I’m late!” Mom calls. “I brought pizza.” She closes the door with her foot, holding the cardboard box in front of her.

I breathe in the rich scent of cheese and tomato sauce and stare at her. Then I take out our plates before she realizes what she’s giving me—all that unhealthy fat.

Mom sits heavily at the dresser that acts as our table. I give us each a slice top-heavy with mushrooms, broccoli, zucchini, spinach, and onion—her attempt at making it healthy—and push a plate toward her.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Mom kicks off her shoes and sighs heavily.

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Cheryl Rainfield

I sit down across from her, seeing the stress of all the years on her face. “Long day?”

“Yes,” Mom says. “How was yours?”

I take a bite of my pizza, the cheese burning the inside of my mouth, and try to think of something happy to tell her. “A friend of mine came over after school. It was fun.”

“That’s good.” A watchful look comes onto her face.

I know she’s going to tell me not to get too attached. I plunge in before she can. “Mom—”

“What is it, honey?”

“Did Dad ever teach you how to defend against other Paranormals’ attacks? Or how to counter them?” Mom drops her half-eaten pizza slice. “Did someone attack you?”

“No,” I say, keeping my face as neutral as I can.
He attacked Alex. I don’t know for sure that Daniel attacked me.

Yeah, right.

Mom’s gazing at me intensely, as if she stares at me hard enough, she’ll be able to hear what I’m thinking again.

I take another bite of pizza, knowing I have to tell her something. I chew slowly, swallow. “I want to stop running, Mom. If we could just stand up to the Government Paras, maybe we wouldn’t have to keep running.”

“Oh, Caitlyn.” Mom reaches for my hand. “I know it’s been rough on you. I never wanted to bring you up like this.

But you know it’s not safe to engage with them. They’ll know exactly where you are.”

“Unless I cloak myself with a shield of positive energy,” I say. “Dad taught me that once. Before the riots.” Mom’s face seems to get thinner. “That was to protect 202

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you from Normals. There weren’t Government Paranormals back then, and there weren’t hunters. Another Paranormal can sense you right through the energy. No, you’d have to hide your thoughts, the ones that identify you as you.” That’s what I instinctively did with Daniel the first time I tried not to let him know that I was in his head. I hid my own pattern of thought. He only felt me when I started questioning him as me. So I can’t let myself break out of his thoughts next time.

“Thanks, Mom!” I jump up and kiss her. “Gotta finish my homework.”

I grab my slice of pizza and take it with me into my room. Then I lie down, stretching out to make myself comfortable, and close my eyes.

The first time I tried this, I wrapped a bit of Daniel’s thought-pattern around my own. He must be expecting me to try that again. I have to do something more—I’ll have to make myself “be” Daniel.

I reach for the vibrating hate that I know is him. It fills me, fogging my mind. But underneath it, I feel the Daniel I once knew and I move toward him. Suddenly I’m back at the riots, the woman pulling us from the crowd, telling us she knows we have a gift. Telling me—no, telling Caitlyn—

that she’ll make sure she’s safe.

And then I am viewing the mob from a different angle.

I am seeing myself—seeing Caitlyn’s white face—and Ilene smiling down at us with her big eyes. I feel myself not trusting her, yet being drawn to her.

She touches my cheek. “I wouldn’t forget you, Daniel.

I know you’re special. More special than any of them.”
I 203

Cheryl Rainfield

stand taller, reach for her hand. The woman pulls us forward and then the mob surrounds us like a human wave, tugging at us from all angles. Caitlyn’s and my hands are ripped apart and I push her hard. “Run!” I yell and grip the woman’s hand to keep her with me, to keep her away from Caitlyn.

The woman’s mouth tightens. Cold pain splinters through my head, making me scream. The woman drags me deeper into the crowd, toward Dad, who’s standing on a milk crate, trying to calm the mob. But it’s too late. I know it, and the woman knows it. But still he keeps trying. I can’t breathe and don’t want to look. Mom stands next to him, begging people to listen.

The woman grips me tight, pain clawing my flesh. She looks more beautiful than ever. There’s something about her that draws every gaze hungrily to her even before she speaks.

“This man is a traitor!” she yells, pointing at Dad, and somehow her voice rises above the shouts and noise of the crowd, and hovers there, echoing. “This man is a Para, and he’s planning on murdering you all! Murdering every one of you who is not like him!”

“No!” Dad shouts. “That’s a lie! We’re peaceful!”

“Run!” I want to scream at him. “Get away from her!” But it’s too late. Even I can feel the pull of her thoughts, like a giant magnet, wiping out all other thoughts beyond the one that vibrates through the air.
“Kill him!”
she sends.

The mob surges forward like a tsunami, descending on Dad with bats and knives, their voices hoarse with kill-lust.

Dad collapses beneath them.

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“No, please!” Mom screams.

I can’t bear to watch. I close my eyes as hot blood spatters my cheek. I feel the sudden emptiness as Dad leaves, feel Caitlyn’s pain thread through my own. And then I feel nothing as the woman drags me forward—not one other Para in the entire world. It is a silence, a loneliness that I’ve never known. I wonder if this is the way Dad felt just before he died.

e

I gasp and sit upright, tears streaming from my eyes.

“Daddy!” I scream, my voice coming out in a whisper. It’s too horrible to see. But Daniel saw it all. Daniel and Mom.

I sob into my pillow, trying not to let her hear. And Daniel—he was trying to save me. I never knew that. I cry until there are no tears left.

Shafts of light pierce my curtains.

It’s morning already.

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