Read Wild-born Online

Authors: Adrian Howell

Tags: #Young Adult, #urban fantasy, #Paranormal, #Supernatural, #psionics, #telekinesis, #telepathy, #esp, #Magic, #Adventure

Wild-born (9 page)

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school, boy?” the man at the cash register said gruffly as he looked at my grimy attire.

Oops! I had completely forgotten that today was the start of the school year. I paid the cashier without answering and hurriedly left the mall. He was right: There wasn’t a single kid on the streets today. I jogged to another deserted alleyway, levitated onto the fire escape of yet another building, and found refuge on the roof until late afternoon.

For nearly three weeks, that’s how I lived. During school hours, I hid on rooftops, safely out of sight from the busy city. Just once, someone came up the fire escape, but I heard him first and jumped over the side, trying to hover behind the wall until he left. He stayed on the roof for a few minutes too long and I was getting tired, so I made an emergency landing in the alley below, where, I couldn’t be sure, but I think an old homeless man saw me.

I did my grocery shopping in the early evenings, sometimes also buying soap and bottled water to wash myself after it got dark. The water felt freezing in the chilly night air, but I knew that if I didn’t keep clean, I’d be too noticeable as a runaway and people might start calling the police.

I also bought a few comics and magazines in order to pass the time on the roofs. But I wanted to be careful with my money, so I ended up spending a lot of time just lying on my back and watching the clouds drift by, or gazing at Cat’s amethyst, which I miraculously still had. The stone was my one and only physical link that remained of my past life. It glistened as the sunlight shone through it, and I sat for hours playing with it in my hands. Eventually, because I was afraid it might fall out of my pocket while I was flying, I bought a leather cord and wore the stone around my neck.

Every time I ran out of money, it was back to the restaurant. There were some risky moments when I was almost seen, and one very close call where a man nearly saw his wallet flying up into the air. But I was getting the hang of this, and a few coins in a wallet or purse didn’t keep me from my prize.

The only really horrible part of stealing was that sometimes my loot would contain a family photo, or pictures of kids. I hated seeing their happy faces smiling up at me. Was I bitter? Envious? Embarrassed? I wasn’t sure, but it just irked me.

I also knew, of course, that eventually someone was going to catch me lifting wallets into the air. I couldn’t keep this up forever. And even if I could, how much longer would it be before Ralph or some berserker or someone else found me? Face the problem, or wait till it faces you. I still hadn’t learned, and so the days drifted by.

Nighttimes were not only for stealing money. The darkness gave me my one true pleasure: flight. Zipping through the air with the wind on my face, I could, if only for a brief moment, forget the nightmare my life had turned into, and all the fears I had of what might come. I was getting good at flying too, staying up for more than three minutes at a time.

Then, one night, I was flying high into the sky, higher than ever before. I wanted to know where my limit was. I had decided that once I got too tired to continue my ascent, I was going to go into freefall until I was close to the tops of the buildings, and only then slow myself down. That way, I wouldn’t need much energy for the return flight. The new moon had come and gone, and the nights were getting brighter, but I still felt comfortable concealed in the quiet blanket of darkness which had become my only true refuge. This night was nearly cloudless and I felt like I was swimming in a sea of lights, the stars above and the city below. Higher and higher I went.

My heart was screaming in protest as I pushed myself to keep on going. The howling wind was getting colder, but the wind wasn’t the only thing I could feel. I noticed that the air around me was vibrating like a rhythmic drumbeat. I briefly wondered what it might be, but I wanted to go higher.

Just a little higher...

Suddenly I was blinded by a brilliant white light brighter than the sun itself. The pain forced me to shut my eyes tightly and my concentration was instantly broken. I felt my upward motion slow. For a split second, I was frozen in midair like some crazy cartoon character, and then I began to fall. I opened my eyes and saw the dark silhouette of a helicopter above me. It shined its spotlight on me again. I turned away from the glare, redirecting my body so that I was diving headfirst toward the ground, which I realized was still some distance away.

The light was still chasing me and I knew I couldn’t land on a rooftop, so I veered left and dipped in between two buildings. A moment before I hit the concrete surface of the alley, I turned myself upright and tried to kick-stop. But I was going too fast, and although I considerably slowed my descent, I still slammed feet-first onto the pavement, painfully spraining my left ankle.

I could still hear the helicopter thumping somewhere above me, so I didn’t dare climb back up to the roof to get my stuff. Instead, I limped away as quickly as I could, braving the open streets for a few blocks before hiding in another dark alley, which I found, thankfully, deserted.

C
hapter 5: The Hider and Finder

I woke at daybreak and realized that I was back to square one, having lost all my money, extra clothes, everything. I touched Cat’s pendant to make sure it was still around my neck. There was no question of retrieving my other belongings from the rooftop. Instead, I used the hours I had before school started to put more distance between myself and the scene of my sighting. The only positive thing about that morning was that my sprained left ankle had miraculously healed overnight. There was no pain there, and I could walk briskly. I once again hid on top of a building, hungry, thirsty and dejected, waiting for night to fall so that I could go wallet hunting.

The days were beginning to get noticeably shorter, but it was still a long wait till sundown. I didn’t even have anything to drink, and I crept between two large water tanks to shield myself from the biting wind that was blowing over the roof. Once the agonizingly uneventful day had darkened, I was about to go rooftop-hopping for another suitable location to steal money, but then I heard a quiet female voice in the darkness.

“Hey there,” it said.

It had come from the fire escape. I was still sitting in my hiding place between the tanks, and if the voice hadn’t taken me so completely by surprise, I might have just run to the edge of the building and jumped over.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” The voice was soft and gentle. I remained silent, and she continued, “You’re the freefall person, aren’t you? There was an article about you on this morning’s newspaper. Something about a mystery skydiver whose parachute didn’t open. Don’t worry. They didn’t catch you on camera, but I think the police were looking for your body all day.”

I still kept as quiet as I could, but my heart was thumping so loudly I was sure it would give my location away.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice said slowly. “I just want to talk. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, not even sure if she could hear me. “It’s okay.”

“That’s a start. My name’s Cynthia Gifford. You can call me Cindy. What’s your name?”

I didn’t answer, and a moment later she said, “Come on, I told you mine, didn’t I? I know you’re scared, but I wish I could at least know who I’m talking with.”

“I’m Adrian,” I whispered. “Adrian Howell.”

“That’s better. Adrian Howell, it’s a pleasure to... Well, I haven’t exactly made your acquaintance yet. Do you want to come out, or do I have to keep talking to the water tanks?”

I tittered nervously. Everything about this woman’s voice helped me to trust it, but I still hadn’t gotten over Ralph.

“I heard that,” she said. “That was a laugh. Come on, Adrian. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

I warily stepped out from between the tanks and looked toward the fire escape. There wasn’t enough light to see her very well, but the owner of the voice was a slender woman with long silvery hair that seemed to glow faintly in the moonlight. She was sitting on the raised edge of the building with her feet on the asphalt roof, her hands folded neatly on her lap. Even in the darkness, I could see she was smiling serenely at me. She looked like she was in her early forties, quiet and, for lack of a better word, motherly. I smiled back, but I didn’t go any closer.

“Are you a psionic?” I asked, remembering the word Ralph had used in the car.

The woman nodded slightly. “Yes, Adrian. Just like you.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you might want something from me.”

“Like what?”

“Food, clothes, a place to sleep, perhaps?”

“How can I trust you?”

“You can’t,” she answered, still smiling peacefully. “Not if you don’t. But you’re not going to survive long out here by yourself. Surely you know that by now. Your powers are incomplete, and you are still a child.”

“I’m not a child!” I said angrily. “I have control of my power.”

“Control?” said the woman, chuckling. “Adrian, pardon me for saying this, but you don’t know the meaning of the word. Controlling your power includes knowing better than to go flying around the city and stealing people’s money. And letting them see you! Not just last night. I saw the tabloid headline about the man whose wallet flew off into the sky.”

Now
that
was news to me! I had been pretty sure he hadn’t seen anything.

“Adrian Howell,” the woman continued in a tone that sounded more concerned than critical, “do you have any idea how long a show-off like you would survive out here? It’s lucky I found you when I did. Even the Slayers will be looking for you by now.”

“Slayers?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you about them later,” she said. “Listen to me, Adrian. I don’t have a whole lot of time. If you really want to stay up here by yourself, that’s okay. I’m not going to force you to come with me. But if you want, you can come. If you change your mind, you can leave at any time, I promise you.”

“Alright,” I said, stepping a little closer to her. “I’ll go with you if you want.”

“No, Adrian,” said the woman, getting to her feet. “You’ll come with me if
you
want. Do you want to come?”

“Yes—yes, please,” I answered, taken aback. She was very different from Ralph.

“That’s better. In fact, it’s probably the best decision you’ve made in a long time,” she said warmly, walking up to me and holding out her hand.

Slowly, I reached out and shook it.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Adrian Howell,” she said.

“Um...”

“Please call me Cindy.”

Cindy, as I knew her from then on, had parked her dark green compact SUV right under the fire escape, which was how she had managed to climb up onto it. She opened the car door, and I got in beside her.

I felt dizzy as I handled the seatbelt buckle, having accidentally touched the steel part. Cindy gave me a concerned look.

“It’s the metal,” I explained weakly, leaning back in the seat to rest my head.

“Oh, of course,” she said, and started the engine.

Once again, I was in for an overnight drive. As soon as Cindy heard my stomach growl, which couldn’t have been more than five minutes into our trip, she pulled into the very same drive-thru restaurant that I had been using as my base of operations until yesterday. When I told her, she laughed and told me not to worry, placing a steaming hot bag onto my lap.

“I don’t like fast food much, but since we’re on the run...” she said, driving up the ramp to the highway. We were leaving the city.

I ate ravenously, nearly choking on my burger and downing my soda in large gulps.

“So,” said Cindy once I had finished the last of my onion rings, “tell me your story.”

“My story?” I asked.

“Yes. Your story. How did you end up in the middle of the city nicking wallets from drunks and doing aerobatic stunts for helicopters?”

“Well, I—I just don’t really know if...”

My voice trailed off, but Cindy picked it up in an overly innocent tone, saying, “...if you can trust me?”

“Yes... I mean no! It’s just that I...”

“Look, Adrian, I can’t read your mind. If there’s something you don’t want me to know, I’m not going to find out, okay?” Cindy breathed deeply once and continued gently, “But Adrian, I found you, and I didn’t have to do that. And you came with me, and you didn’t have to do that either. I was kind of hoping that might be the start of a friendship. Friends have to trust each other.”

“Okay,” I said, looking at her apologetically.

“I’ll understand if you’re not ready to talk about it.”

“No, I’m ready,” I answered, and I was.

I told her everything. Everything I’ve told you and then some. The words just gushed out of me like a dam had burst. Sometimes I choked up, but Cindy patiently waited for me. At times, I must have been almost incoherent. I was jumping all around the story, adding bits here and there. I told her about losing Cat, and about Ralph and the berserker, and my escape from the hotel. When I finished, the dashboard clock read one o’clock in the morning. We were well beyond the city limits, driving down a dark, backcountry road past farmhouses and pastures that smelled of cow manure.

“That’s quite a story, Adrian,” said Cindy. “Not the worst I’ve ever heard, but still quite a story. I wonder how it’ll end.”

I gave her a weak smile. “Cat once suggested, ‘And they all lived happily ever after.’”

Cindy grinned. “Smart cat.”

“She was,” I said quietly, touching my sister’s pendant.

Cindy gave me a sympathetic look, saying, “It must have been hard for you, gaining your power so early. You’re a wild-born, like me.”

“What’s a wild-born?” I asked.

“Psionic powers run in families,” explained Cindy. “In the thickest of bloodlines, almost everyone has some degree of psionic power, but with the lesser bloodlines, some people have it and some don’t. Then there are some psionic bloodlines that are entirely dormant. ‘Dormant’ means sleeping or inactive.”

“I know what ‘dormant’ means,” I said, feeling somewhat insulted. “But how does a bloodline become dormant?”

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