The Post-Humans (Book 1): The League (11 page)

“I guess I’m a little like
the rest of us
then, I’d like to feel like I was actually contributing something, but it
is
hard to find jobs that make you feel like you matter,” Athan added empathetically to cheer her up.

“Hmmm…Yes. Yes it is. But you’re a handsome young boy, you have a spiffy suit, and I’m sure you’d work hard. You have your whole life to find a job that makes you happy.” She smiled.

Athan turned to the pond and watched the way the breeze rippled across its surface. “I don’t know what makes me happy anymore.”

“Rubbish, you have your whole life going for you. You probably have a thousand different chances to get out there and make a difference,” the woman said bluntly.

Athan felt ashamed that he had complained when he had so much more time than she had.

“Make a difference?” Athan raised his eyebrows. “That isn’t always in the job description.”

The woman smiled and got to her feet with a groan. “No, you discover that part once you start working hard.”

“I guess so.” Athan stood to help her get to her feet.

She smiled and set off down the footpath toward an avenue of beech trees.

Athan wondered how he could make a difference to anything. He could get into people’s heads, but what good could that do?

He sat back and stared off into the trees. Then he thought of his comic books. He had been reading them since high school. In the comics he read there were all kinds of heroes, even some that didn’t want to be heroes. He thought of that popular phrase;
with great power comes great responsibility
.

Maybe he could make a difference. Like a super hero, a super hero that would always be in the same pair of clothes because they were the only set that didn’t fall off when he jumped into people’s minds. He wasn’t even sure that he could describe his ability as power. The idea was stupid; there must be a job or something out there he could be doing with his time, something that mattered.

For two and a half weeks Athan did nothing more than wander through the organic landscape looking at the odd shapes and plant-like formations. He only occasionally stepped into the physical world for souvlaki or to buy comic books, which he read at cafes and then posted to his Mum’s place for his collection.

One afternoon he bought himself a burger and chips and headed to his favourite spot in Carlton Gardens to feed before his usual stroll around the Melbourne Museum.

His favourite spot had a nice view of one of the ponds, and a nicer view of the girls that would walk past, but it was occupied.

Athan stopped only metres away from the manicured section of lawn and looked about for another place that looked as clean.

It hadn’t ever been taken before.

What the hell?

Athan was annoyed.

The man sitting in his spot was no older than he was, but he had a short beard and shoulder length brown hair and was reading a novel.

Athan plodded over to a bench nearby and sat himself down to unwrap his burger.

One with the lot, plus extra mayo.

Perfect.

“Athan Harper, am I correct?” The man on the lawn called, almost making him drop his burger.

Instead, he took a bite and glared at the man.

Steal my spot, and you know my name?

Athan chewed and decided to stare intently at some pigeons.

Pretend you didn’t hear…

The man chuckled to himself. “I know who you are.”

“Do I know you?” Athan said over a half chewed mouthful.

“Don’t worry, I’m not PHC.” The man smiled and closed his book.

“You’re not what?” Athan asked confused.

“You don’t know? The Post-Human Collectors. That’s what I call them anyway. They’re an international group that takes people like us into custody; so normal people can feel safe. People fear what they can’t control or understand,” the man said smiling. His voice had a formal tone like English parents raised him.

“What?” Athan shook his head.

“I’m sorry, let me start fresh. Please come and sit down so we can avoid unwanted ears,” the man said seriously.

Athan thought about it for a moment and decided he was too curious to run.

He gathered his lunch and brought it over to the clear patch of lawn next to the strange guy.

He wasn’t too worried. The man was his age, and couldn’t be too dangerous. He was too young to be working with the police or any other organization that might want to ask him questions.

“My name is Brad Lewis, I’m like you.” He grinned.

“Like me how?” Athan said with a raised brow.

He liked comics?

He could never see his friends again?

“I am what has been labeled by paranoid governments as part of the ‘Post-Human epidemic’. Normal people who can do things a little differently, you might say.” Brad said.

Athan was wary.

He hadn’t come to terms with his own ability. He could not believe that there were more people like him.

And how could he trust a man that appeared out of nowhere and said ‘trust me’. “I’m more concerned about how you found me or know who I am.” Athan asked, looking suspicious.

“Sorry,” Brad waved, “that’s my ability. I can glean information from every corner of the Internet or government files and record encyclopedically every book you bring anywhere near me. I’m a sponge for information really. And that is how I found you Mr Harper. You don’t realize how many breadcrumbs every human being on the planet leaves behind for someone else to follow. You were like everybody else, then you started to bounce like a rubber ball.”

“What?” Athan laughed.

“It’s true! You were here, and then there, then you were gone for long periods of time as if you had died. So being a bit different myself I dug deeper, and a friend of mine trailed you a little.” He shrugged. “Sorry, until I decided you were one of us.” Brad finished. He slid the novel into a large pocket on his jacket and stretched out, propped up on his elbows.

“What makes you think I’m different?” Athan asked, fishing to see if the man actually knew anything.

“No one I have read about or met has the ability to step into one person like they were a front door then step out of another like they were the back…” Brad grinned.

Athan nodded and smiled. “You have me, but I can disappear into your mind and leave you with nothing but half a burger and some soggy chips.”

“You could, maybe, but I’d consider this. What we are worried about, is that I am not the only person who can follow bread crumbs. Like I said, the PHC is an evil mercenary organization that is hunting our kind like dogs. And they are putting us down, Athan. Unless they are interested in what you can do, and it could be of use to them, they will kill you.” He squinted at the sunlit leaves, and then faced Athan with a serious expression.

“Right.” Athan stared out at the fountain in the pool, and the people milling about to and from the Museum. “What happens now, Mr Lewis?” he muttered.

Brad took a deep breath. “I want you to come with me to a place I’ve got in the middle of town. You can meet my friend, he’s one of us too. His name is Ian. He’s very quick off the mark, if you know what I mean.”

“Physically or mentally?”

“What I mean is that he can move like all buggery when he wants to,” Brad said. “My ability is, less obvious I suppose. But I could name every identified and collated species of echinoderm, or name all of the ten thousand documented species of grass. But that would be boring. I can however break down an AK-47 in three and a half seconds. Which I’ll show you later if you still need proof of my authenticity.”

“Are there any more like us?” Athan said, feeling a little out of touch.

“Oh yes. It’s crazy out there. There are a lot of people that can do special things. They aren’t everywhere, and the PHC makes quite a few disappear, but Post-Humans are being born everyday. No one can tell if they are Post-Human till they reach late teens though. You would remember when your ability came to you I am guessing?” Brad nodded, knowingly.

“I remember,” Athan said gravely, thinking of that night at the club and running through the black for what felt like days.

I still didn’t know how I survived.

“Why should I come back with you? What’s in it for me?” Athan asked.

“Company, like minds, whatever you want to call it. I know
I’m
glad to find someone like us,” Brad said as he got to his feet and brushed the grass from his jeans. “There is also a proposal I’d like you to hear out. Ian and I have been thinking, and we believe there is a place in this world where we might actually be able to be who we are and make a difference.”

“Make a difference?” Athan said with surprise, thinking of the old woman who he had sat with a few weeks before. “How are we going to do that?”

“We are creating a group that society might find helpful. We are calling it The League…”

BELINDA LAY SILENT, her blonde hair cascading over the pillow.

There was no reason to wake her; she was just a front door that Athan was glad for.

The room was dark, as he should have expected at two thirty seven am. Without her he would have no easy access to his friend’s secret hideout, besides the front door, and using actual front doors was something that Athan had become wary of in recent years. He never knew who was watching. It would be awful if it were his fault that Apollo was raided and caught by the PHC.

The fan was going in the corner of the room, giving the sleeping woman the illusion of airflow in the underground bunker.

He had to respect a woman willing to live in such a strange place with Brad Lewis. He wasn’t every woman’s idea of the ideal man. Or with his encyclopedic knowledge of pretty much everything, maybe he was.

Athan slipped quietly out the door to go and find his friend.

He knew the man hardly slept.

In the large main space, the library room, he saw a familiar figure sitting alone in his armchair viewing several articles on the Internet via the many hanging computer monitors. Brad looked fairly intent on scanning through all of the text and Athan felt guilty about rousing him from his work.

“Hey, Brad. Sorry to disrupt,” he whispered.

Brad visibly jumped a little before turning and smiling.

“Oh! Already back? Sorry, you gave me a little fright.” He gestured for Athan to come and take a seat.

“I thought you would be in bed.” Athan stepped over and looked down at his friend who sat on the couch in a woolen jumper and a pair of boxers. Athan shook his head. “Do you ever sleep?”

Brad shrugged. He didn’t look happy and his eyes were rimmed with pink.

“I sleep, just not as often as I probably should.”

Athan sensed that there was something wrong with his friend. Brad wasn’t ever a bubbly person, but this time he looked genuinely worried.

“What’s wrong, mate?” Athan sat down at looked at the reading material.

Brad stared blankly for a moment. “I am asleep.” He glanced up at Athan who looked confused. “I’m asleep and I need to wake up.”

“What do you mean?”

“In terms of living I have been in a coma. I sit down here and read and read about the lives that everyone else who are living, but I hide like a turtle in its shell. I miss
us
Athan. I miss feeling like all this reading and learning meant something. What is the point of being able to remember everything you read when you are a rabbit in a hole.”

Athan listened to his friend.

Brad wasn’t over tired, he had been crying.

“I’m sorry, Brad. I don’t know what to say. I think I know what you mean.” Athan narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “I feel like I drift about like a cool breeze; I’m here, I’m there and I’m nowhere. Since that night with Ian… It hasn’t been easy. At least you have Belinda.”

Brad nodded. “Yes, Belinda has been amazing. She is a great girl and I love her dearly, but I am not human. Being her boyfriend, ‘Brad Lewis’, is not all I am. I am this,” he gestured with both hands to the hanging monitors. “I have the ability to remember everything. What is the point of being
who
I am if this big part of me means nothing? I’m just a vessel, and everything I could be is wasting away. As long as I hide down here, from the world and the PHC, I am hiding from myself. I’m worthless Athan. I feel like I am asleep and I can’t wake up.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” he said turning away.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Brad. I feel the same way. And I bet Cynthia, Cal and Kiranda all feel the same, wherever they are. Even when I had a sense of purpose I felt like I didn’t really belong.”

Athan shrugged and sat up.

This sort of talk is not going to get things done.

“What do you have there?” Athan pointed to the screen.

Brad perked up, turned a little in his seat and scrolled back through some of the text he had been reading.

He gestured to it.

“Actually, this relates to us. And I have looked into the names on that list. I’m glad you are here.” His voice was grave.

Athan raised an eyebrow and nodded. “That’s a little ominous.”

“You travelled that far with only one mind?” Brad asked.

“Yep,” Athan replied with a little smile.

“You are becoming more skilled than you used to be, Sleepwalker, and more powerful.”

Athan shrugged the comment off. “What’s this about, the article you’re reading? You said it’s about us.”

“It is. Long and obscure story short, the PHC have found themselves a weapon. One that can help them cleanse society of our kind, or aid them in collecting all of us for their own purposes. It’s got me quite on edge,” Brad said while he rubbed at his short beard and looked over the text again. “You remember I mentioned that someone in Indonesia was abducted by the PHC?”

Athan nodded.

“They were definitely Post-Human. And it was not just one. It was a group of four, doing what we did once upon a time: playing heroes. This group was reported by the very people they saved.”

“What? Why would they do that? And where did you find PHC related documents?”” Athan asked as he squinted at the columns of text.