gifted Page 2

  With flashes of memory, came the final one before I’d blacked out. The fire. I’d lain on the ground to die, but the bastards found me. They took me to some buildings. The ones that weren’t burnt to a cinder. Ones I had no idea about. Then I was kicking and screaming. I made the fire change direction again. The building fell around us. Pieces of walls and ceiling crashing to the floor. I didn’t care if I died as I killed them all. I wanted to die, too. It was the release I craved.

  Victor was there. Yelling at me to stop. Screaming. So much screaming. So much pain. Blood everywhere. I must have blacked out. He put me in a coffin, and then came the complete and utter darkness.

  Julius must have thought my silence meant I couldn’t remember because he said, “Don’t let it worry you. Under circumstances like this, it would be plausible to forget.”

  I concentrated on his blurry form. “What ... circumstance?”

  I heard him draw something across the floor. A chair. He settled, and his head tilted forward as he leaned close. “You were found. Yesterday. By a building team.” His voice was hesitant, weighing words as he spoke. He rested his chin on fisted hands. A thumb moved over his lips. Nervous.

  I had no idea what he was talking about, so I just stared at his blurry face. I tried to reconcile what he said, but it didn’t make sense. He was probably feeding me a lie. I wondered what my father was planning to do to me this time. Instead of torture, he’d now provided me with a new friend. Someone to gain my trust. If force didn’t work, then maybe a softer approach might cause me to use my gift.

  The doctor pressed on. “Robo-workers were doing routine excavation work beneath an old road system. They knocked down a wall and found a building buried beneath heavy rock. They had no idea anything was there lost beneath tons of dirt and foliage. When they found it, they sent in some archaeologists…”

  “Archaeologists,” I rasped. Why on earth would they need archaeologists? Road workers, specialists, yes, but archaeologists? There was an angle I wasn’t getting, and years of living in the street had made me pretty good at reading angles.

  He cleared his throat. “They found all sorts of artifacts in one room in particular. It was a fantastic find, everything was in pristine condition.” Moments passed. “Then they found you in some sort of a capsule.”

  “Bullshit.” I wanted to laugh, but this wasn’t even funny. This was hysterical. It bubbled up inside of me, ringing my crap-orama bell. If there was one thing about my father, it was that he didn’t do technology by halves. That’s why the government gave him so much money. Tech did its best to keep up with him.

  This was just a mind game. Something to put me off kilter. How far could they take this idea before I tilted on the edge of insanity? I didn’t know this Julius man, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t one of them. He probably wasn’t a doctor. Or maybe he was, of the worst kind. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him, and I couldn’t even lift my arm at the moment. This could be just one thing in a long list of things they were trying out on me. Get Katia out of her comfort zone, watch her do her thing, then rope her in. God knew, torture hadn’t moved me.

  “Go on,” I said quietly, ready now, watching for a slip of the tongue that would let me know what they were up to. I liked fairy tales.

  “You were alive. Impossibly alive,” Julius said.

  “The road workers brought you to us, and we managed to wake you. After so many years asleep, you woke up.” He sounded surprised. Like I had beat all the odds, and he didn’t know how the hell I did it. He sounded so honest I might almost believe him.

  “Years?” I could hear a little noise beeping in a rapid staccato.

  “Yes,” he said. “For something so archaic, it kept you alive.”

  “What was archaic?” I asked.

  “The capsule we found you in. You were in complete suspended animation. That’s what kept you alive.”

  “How many years?” The beeping went faster. Their mind games were working.

  I felt his hand on my wrist, feeling for my pulse. I flicked it away. “I thought it might be too soon to tell you. You need to calm down, or we’ll have you back where you started from.”

  “Tell me!” I snatched his wrist, fingers digging into his skin.

  His voice cracked as he told me. “One hundred and ten years.”

  “You’re lying!” Panic, cold and hard, rose from the pit deep within me. This couldn’t be true; this couldn’t be happening. I thought Victor had done his worst, but he’d upstaged himself. “Tell me the truth, or so help me God, you will be sorry you ever laid eyes on me,” I screamed as hard as my scorched throat would allow.

  “It is the truth.” His voice sounded defeated and quiet, like he was breaking bad, bad news. “This is the year 2120. You are in The Royal Melbourne Hospital, the largest in the southern hemisphere, and you have been in suspended animation for one hundred and ten years.”

  “You’re lying,” I whispered.

  I stared at his blurry face trying to make sense of what he told me. It couldn’t be true, was against all logic. It sounded so fantastic it couldn’t possibly be real. Something out of a science-fiction book. Some story they had invented to make me do what I mustn’t do for them. For him.

  But why did this man sound so sincere?

  Had I forgotten what true sincerity was? Had Victor mistreated and used me for so long that I only saw the bad in people? Or was it something more insidious? Ruin what was left of my world, crumble it at my feet, watch me try to pick up the remains, and hope that I would cower to him. When people don’t have anything left, they don’t have anything to lose.

  It was totally improbable. One hundred and ten years. Things like that just didn’t happen. It was against all odds. It was impossible. Victor had done something to me, but this story was unimaginable. I would be a fool if I believed it. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath. It hissed out between clenched teeth.

  What was even more inconceivable was this Julius man trying to get me to believe him. Either that or he thought it was true. I was in serious trouble either way. I was either going looney tunes, or I was with someone who already was.

  He sighed. It was a nice sound. I was reminded of how sincere he sounded. It was tempting to give in and believe that someone could be genuine, let myself be taken on an honest ride, to believe something good was still out there. “If I could lie to you, then I would. You have to believe me when I tell you if I could undo this, then I would. I really and truly would. I don’t want you to be scared.”

  “I don’t get scared.” If he knew the things I had seen. The things I had done ... I hoped my face didn’t show the self-disgust and loathing that crawled inside me.

  I did things once when I was young and weak and I thought I was pleasing my father. When I was striving for him to love me. I couldn’t do it again. I told him I couldn’t do those things to people anymore. He didn’t listen. He persisted. He had kept at me until I had no choice but to disappear. And then he chased. Endlessly.

  “You don’t need to be. I’ll be here to help you,” Julius said.

  I shook my head. “No help.”

  “Let me see your eyes. I can tell you’re having trouble with them.” Before I could pull back, he held my face between his hands. His gentleness startled me. I wasn’t used to anyone being anything other than rough with me. His hands were firm, warm, and caring. He turned my face one way then the other, and I let him, too stunned not to. I was afraid to breathe in case he stopped being gentle. It was a shame, he was a total looney.

  He took one hand away, and a blurry red blinking light moved into my vision close to my eyes. I moved my face away from his hands. “Stop.” His fingers instantly moved away. I wasn’t used to people listening.

  “Your eyes aren’t focusing,” he said.

  “You could tell all that from a toy light?”

  He chuckled, a deep rumble that started deep within his chest. I liked the sound. Surprise washed through me again. “It’s
more than just a light. I just scanned your retina and optical nerve. It will take some hours, but your sight will return. There has been no lasting damage from the induced coma.”

  “Great,” I muttered. He was a looney.

  “There have been some advances in medical technology in the past century.”

  I didn’t bother answering. In fact, I was fading pretty fast. Whatever it was that had happened had zapped the strength right out of me.

  “You need to rest,” Julius said.

  “I’ve just had a hundred years of sleep.” My words slurred.

  “One hundred and ten to be exact. Have this.” Another blurry figure stepped beside him and handed him a tray. He took a glass from it.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “You will like the taste, and it will let you rest properly.”

  He lifted my head. I felt something at my mouth, and I sipped. A warm fluid flowed into my mouth. Thick and savory. I sipped again, and before my head rested back onto the pillow, I fell asleep.

  Chapter Three

  I forced myself to wake quickly but not open my eyes. Years of practice had honed my skill. I purposely relaxed my limbs giving the impression I was still fast asleep. I listened carefully for an incidental noise, a brush, a scrape, anything. My breathing was nice, even, and light, imitating sleep.

  I was fairly sure I was alone. I cracked my eyes open and looked between my lashes, watching for moving shadows or blurring shapes that would give away a presence. I waited, breathed in and out, in and out. Nice and easy. Just relax and wait. Being cautious was second nature now. I had to watch out for myself every moment of the day. There were no second chances.

  Certain I was alone, I opened my eyes and scanned the room. My sight was still blurry, but not as bad as before. Doctor Looney was right. It was only a matter of time before my eyes became better able to focus. Rest and the body takes care of itself.

  The lighting was dim, and my eyes quickly adjusted. It was actually quite comfortable, not harsh like some whitewashed rooms could be. The light in the little room looked as though it came directly from the walls and ceiling. They glowed, alleviating shadows and leaving everything caressed in pure light.

  There was a window to my left. Lines of consecutive twinkling lights flowed one behind the other in an otherwise inky night. Thick traffic, I had to be somewhere like a city.

  Mounted on the wall behind me was a sleek, flat panel with blinking lights on various screens. A graph with a fluctuating line was above another panel with flickering blue numbers. It looked glossy and high tech. Just the thing my father loved.

  At the end of the bed was a solid wall of glowing white light, with a large shadowed area indicating a door. That was interesting. It looked like it had been left open. A stupid mistake on their part. One they hadn’t made before. They usually made sure I was locked up good and tight. Maybe they were trying to make their incredible story seem like it was the truth. That there was no danger. That I might be safe enough for an open door. They, my father’s followers and fellow scientists, if you could call them that, had never left a door open.

  Movement snagged my attention. A flashing light. Red. A small, charcoal-colored machine, the shape of a lustrous cuboid rose above my bed at my feet. It was silent. No wires or attachments. No wings to propel it. It started moving up my body, about thirty centimeters above me. A red light shone from beneath the machine, light patterns jumped on the cover over my body.

  Small blue lights twinkled on and off beneath a large black disk that took up almost one side of the object. It reminded me of the bulbous eye of a spider. Silver lights continuously circled the outside of the disk. Around and around. Black, gleaming, calculating. My reflection was mirrored in the black eye as it slowly moved up the length of my body. I stiffened, instinctively not liking this thing. I didn’t know what it was, what it was doing to me, and I didn’t trust it.

  I glanced at the light-filled doorway. No one had appeared. No shadowy figures beyond. All was quiet. Open door. No people. I took this as a sign of fate. Fate owed me. It was time I got something back.

  I flexed my arms and legs. There was some strength in them overlaying the damned weakness. Adrenaline kicked into my bloodstream, strengthening my limbs with tingling energy. My mind clicked out a plan of sorts. Get rid of the machine, then get out of here. I would have to use my gift, something I didn’t do, not when they wanted to use me like they did, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I couldn’t miss the opportunity of an open door and the chance at freedom. That had only happened once before when I’d managed to successfully escape. After my return, the security had been impenetrable. I never had another chance. May never get another one like this again.

  I focused on the machine, letting the energy syphon into my core. It became bigger and stronger the more I willed the energy to combine with my will. I clenched my teeth, trickles of perspiration covered my skin.

  My head pounded. I was weakened, and creating the energy ball was sapping what strength I’d gained, but I kept building it. I centered the thought in my mind, imagined very clearly what I wanted it to do, then directed the energy out at the machine.

  The machine flew backward, colliding with the wall. It smashed apart; splintering pieces rained onto the floor. I’d used more force that I’d meant to. I’d only meant to take it down, but I’d obliterated it.

  There was no time to waste. I threw the cover aside, looking at legs that were thin and wasted. I gasped. Those couldn’t be mine. My legs were well toned and healthy. They could carry me for kilometers. These looked like they belonged to an invalid. I controlled the hysteria that rolled in my gut. My hand shook as I touched my thigh. I felt my bone through skin that was yellow, pallid, and sick looking. Revulsion rolled through me.

  I put my hands to my head and wondered if I still had my long hair. I pulled a strand in front of my eyes. It was a greasy, matted rat-tail and hung in a limp curl, but it was still black. In some small pathetic way, I was still me. I couldn’t waste time on self-indulgent pity. I’d deal with it later.

  My legs refused to work; the muscles were stiff and strained uselessly. I shoved them over the edge of the bed and pushed myself to a sitting position. The blood drained from my head, making me momentarily giddy and lightheaded. I took a few deep, shaky breaths, willing my body to equalize as quickly as possible. I stifled the panic as it rose, concentrating on what I had to do.

  I slipped to the floor, landing on bare feet. My legs buckled beneath me, unable to respond to the sudden weight of my body. I would need to use my energy again. I’d never had to use it so quickly after being spent. I created an energy ball, scraping up what I could, centering it in my gut. Instead of throwing it out, I sent it back toward myself. My limbs jerked, as though sparking with electricity. My blood tingled, racing around inside me. One foot slid across the floor, then the other. Come on legs, move, damn you. Ignore the fact I just want to curl up into a ball. Just get there. Just fucking do it.

  I staggered to the door and leaned heavily on the frame, gasping, lungs bursting. I wiped away drips of perspiration that stung my eyes. I’d made it this far, but it was only across the space of a small room. I’d need to get it together to get out of here. Wherever here really was. Although the doctor had told me I was in a hospital, I really didn’t know for sure. I only had his word, and I didn’t trust that as far as I could throw it.

  Amazingly, there was silence. Nobody running toward me to take me down. No sudden stampeding of feet, no yell of surprise. Time was of the essence. I had just destroyed an expensive-looking machine, and surely someone was going to get an alert about it pretty soon.

  I peered around the door frame. There was a long, dimly lit corridor that stretched to my right. To my left, was a reception desk, and behind that sat a nurse in dim light. She had her eyes cast downward and was concentrating on something I couldn’t see. There was no one else.

  I ducked back behind the door frame, trying to keep my breathi
ng steady. She’d see me before I had a chance to make it halfway down the corridor.

  I dredged up what little reserve I had and concentrated the thought-energy in the palm of my hand. My skin tingled and heated. I stepped into the corridor, took aim, and flung the ball of energy at the nurse. Her head jerked sideways, her eyelids fluttered shut, and she fell. I heard her land on the floor and then silence. Hopefully she’d stay unconscious until I could disappear.

  My legs were shaking, and I leaned on the wall for balance. One foot in front of the other. My limbs shook, perspiration covered me in a sticky film, but I didn’t stop. Kept going. Kept the body moving. I reached the end of the corridor and bumped into the wall.

  There was a shushing sound. I stepped closer, squinting, trying to focus. A doorway recessed into the wall, beyond that a cavity. My blurry eyes hadn’t picked up the detail.

  Cautiously I stepped through the doorway. There was the shushing sound behind me as it closed. I was in a box. Trapped. I turned around, fingers prodding the walls, trying to make the door open again. My fingers slid across some bumps, and I stuck my nose close to them. They seemed to be buttons of some sort. I blinked, willing my vision to focus more, and saw that there were sequential numbers from lowest to highest order. I almost sobbed out loud. I was in a lift.

  I traced my fingertips over the buttons, pressing them, hoping like hell it was going to take me somewhere safe. Nothing happened. Come on, Katia. Think! Desperation cloaked me as tight as latex skin. “How do I get out of here?”

  “State your destination,” a soft feminine voice spoke.

  I whizzed around, the breath stolen from my lungs. “Who’s there?”

  “State your destination,” the emotionless voice repeated. It didn’t sound human. Some sort of mechanical voice.

  I licked my lips. “Ground. Exit. Anywhere but here.”