Bloom Page 8

  The men pushed her cart through two large swinging doors at the end of the hallway and into a large, dark room. At the back of that room was a smaller door which led to an even smaller room; barely big enough for her cart and the two men to move around it.

  They stopped the cart in the middle of the small room and clicked the wheels into four locking grips on the floor. One of the men wheeled over a small cart loaded with all kinds of monitoring equipment while the other swabbed her forearm with a wet cotton ball. He set aside the cotton and picked up a needle attached to a long, clear tube. The tube ran up to a bag of clear liquid hanging over Haven’s cart.

  He held her arm down firmly while he inserted the needle into her arm. A burst of bright red blood shot up into the clear tube, then flowed back into her skin. She wanted to reach for the needle with her other arm as soon as the man let go but was too weak to do anything more than twitch her wrist.

  The men stared down at her through their black face shields for a long time. Haven could hear them breathing through some kind of filtration system built into their suits.

  Help, she wanted to say. Please help me.

  The men turned and left the room. Next to her on a long table were all sorts of shiny, stainless steel tools: scissors, bone saws, pliers, a small hammer.

  Haven found new energy and shouted into the thick plastic over her mouth.

  The door burst open and another man in a protective suit hurried in. The suit looked as if it had been put on in a hurry; the helmet sat crookedly and the material on the man’s arms and legs was all bunched up and wrinkled.

  It reminded Haven of Noah in his pajamas.

  The man moved quickly to her cart and looked down at her. His head was moving and she could hear him trying to say something from inside his floppy face covering, but she couldn’t make out the words. After a few more syllables, he shook his head in frustration and lifted the face mask up over his head.

  “I am Marius,” he said with a heavy Russian accent. He had a thick brow that stuck out over his dark eyes. “They kidnapped you from the hospital after what happened at school. You are safe now. Well, you will be. In a few minutes, probably.” He let the mask fall back over his eyes while he yanked the needle out of her arm. “Sorry,” he said loudly from behind his mask.

  She lifted her restrained arms and he picked up a serrated blade from the table of tools. He cut through the thin strips of plastic that connected her bindings to the table but left the thick cuffs on her forearms with several inches of the straps attached. He pulled up his mask again when he saw her glaring at him.

  “Best to leave them on, for now. In case they see us. Please, there is no time.”

  He pulled the mask down over his face and continued cutting. Soon her legs were free from the table. She pointed to the plastic covering over her mouth but he shook his head, no. He bent down and unlocked each of the wheels, then pushed the cart out of the room, whistling softly inside his helmet.

  They went out through the large room and back into the hallway, down to the other end and through another set of swinging doors. Marius nodded his bulky head ponderously at the few people he passed along the way. Not everyone wore a protective suit; most of them looked like normal doctors or nurses, roaming the halls of the vast complex and making notations on small electronic pads. Whenever someone looked at Marius and his strange cargo for more than a few seconds, he would pick up a clipboard from the cart and flip through a couple pages until the nosy observer was out of sight.

  Marius stopped in the middle of a four-way intersection of hallways and pulled back the left sleeve of his white suit to reveal a crude drawing on his arm. Thick black lines drawn in permanent marker traced a map over his hairy skin. His finger followed a long line and stopped at the four-way intersection on the map. He mumbled to himself and pointed down each hallway in turn while checking the map on his arm. He finally settled on a direction and pushed Haven’s cart quickly down another long, bright corridor.

  “Ah-ha!” he said. He stopped the cart next to a plain white door and looked down at the chunky metal keypad next to the handle. Marius pulled off his left glove and stuck his hand on the keypad. A ball of orange light burst from his palm and burned through the wall, completely melting the keypad and everything else in a five-inch radius.

  Marius laughed and lightly tapped the door. It swung open easily.

  He pulled off his mask and tossed it aside. “Okay,” he said. “Now for hard part.”

  He lifted Haven from the cart. He set her down on the floor and draped one of her arms over the back of his neck to support her as they walked.

  The lights in the hallway changed from bright white to a deep, flashing red. In the distance, an alarm blared.

  “Well,” said Marius grimly, “now we are in real hurry. They are coming.”

  16

  The plane shuddered as it hit a small patch of turbulence.

  Colton gripped the armrests of his seat. “How did you find me, anyway?” he asked.

  Bernam grinned coldly. “Not all of my abilities will be revealed to you, Mr. Ross. As I was saying, long before these cruel individuals started their mad crusade, we fought for the same reason everyone fights: difference of opinion. But I digress from my main goal, which is to enlighten you about the state of the dangerous world in which you have been so mercilessly thrown.” His dark eyes glinted with devotion. “Each one of us is powerful on our own, Colton, even without a true counterpart. Some are stronger than others. Some can do no more than sap the energy from a fresh leaf and use it to keep their own fingernails from turning yellow. The strongest can drain the life from every person in a room and use that energy to add ten years to their own existence.

  “We are made this way for a reason. Unfortunately, nature has only given each of us one half of a grand equation. It is only when we work together that we can achieve our full potential. This pairing of Source and Conduit is called Unity. Together we become something more powerful than we could ever hope to be on our own.”

  “I’m not quite sure I understand.”

  “Of course not!” Bernam chuckled. “You’re still thinking about your job, and your apartment, and all those other things you left behind. Eventually all of that will drift into the background, then disappear entirely. That’s perfectly normal. Consider this more of an introduction than anything else.”

  Colton looked over at the back of Reece’s chair.

  “Occasionally,” said Bernam, noticing Colton’s hesitation, “a Source is so powerful that they will literally burn themselves up from the inside out unless they have a Conduit capable of harnessing and redirecting the energy. It is like a wellspring inside of them, and without the proper outlet…boom. That is why it is so important to work together. It is the way things were meant to be. And that’s what I want to change. All of this fighting is pointless. It keeps us from finding true Unity with our counterparts. We need to weed out the bad elements and start over.”

  Bernam sighed.

  “But,” he continued, “things are never that easy, are they? It would be too convenient if any Source could pair with any Conduit. Not only does the Conduit have to have the proper capacity for storage and redistribution, but there seems to be another factor at work whose machinations I have as of yet been unable to pinpoint.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “In short, Mr. Ross, it appears as if each Source has only one specific Conduit with which they can pair. A second half which, for all intents and purposes, they were destined to be with. These two individuals are always less than one year apart in age. Beyond that, it could be anyone.”

  “And you haven’t found yours yet?” asked Colton.

  Bernam stared at him coldly. “We deviate too far from our discussion, Mr. Ross. As I was going to say, there are those who would rather cut us into little pieces to try and figure out what makes us tick than help us make our own way in this vast and lonely world. I want to undo all the years of pain that
our kind has endured, Colton. I want to make it safe for people like you and I to live in peace.”

  “No offense,” said Colton, “but I was doing just fine until you guys found me.”

  “Ah, but how long would it have lasted, I wonder? All it takes is one little mistake before someone sees you and the walls come crashing down. Trust me—no one can hide forever.”

  “But what happens if I’m never matched with the right Source?”

  Bernam held up his hands in mock defeat. “Then you will suffer the same fate as many of those who came before you,” he said. “Without true Unity, you will be stuck as you are now, relegated to a life of mediocre ability, never fully reaching your true potential.” He flashed a thin smile. “No offense, of course. Still—there is another path. You can let me to teach you how to better yourself.”

  Colton crossed his arms and sat back in his seat. “That’s a lot to think about. To be honest, it sounds crazy.”

  “Indeed it is.”

  “You say there are others like us?”

  “Correct.”

  “And another group is out there, hunting them down and killing them.”

  “Through experiments of a most vicious nature.”

  Colton looked through the window and into the distance. The sun was just rising above the clouds. With half his heart he wished he were back in Pennsylvania as a boy nine years ago, before his mother left and his father became a man that no one would miss if he passed away. Life had seemed less like a chore and more like an adventure.

  With the other half of his heart he grasped at the future, and at the possibility of finding new meaning on a new path; a beacon in the darkness.

  Colton looked at Bernam. “What’s the next step?”

  Bernam smiled and clapped his hands together. “Excellent! A choice you will not regret.” He leaned over in his chair to look through the window and down at the ground several miles below. “The next step is a little test of your abilities. Time is of the essence.” He stood and walked toward the front of the plane. “Please, follow me.”

  Colton looked out the window but saw only clouds. He stood and walked toward the cockpit.

  Bernam knocked on the sliding partition and Alistair appeared almost instantly.

  “It’s time,” said Bernam.

  Alistair nodded and beckoned for Colton.

  “Good luck,” said Bernam, and patted Colton on the back before going to the other side of the partition and sliding it shut behind him.

  “Why do I need luck?” asked Colton, looking around warily.

  “You know what kinetic energy is?” asked Alistair. He started unscrewing four silver bolts on the corners of a plastic panel in the middle of the airplane door.

  “Uh…it’s moving energy? The energy something has when it’s moving.”

  “Exactly,” said Alistair. “And here I was thinking the American education system was bunk.” He pulled off the plastic panel to reveal a red handle. “I want you to imagine a small battery falling toward the ground.”

  “Okay…”

  “Now imagine that, as the battery drops, the kinetic energy increases. The battery charges itself with the energy that builds up during the fall.”

  Colton nodded.

  “So, if the battery hits the ground fully charged, what happens?” Alistair casually rested his hand on a handhold next to the door and gripped it tightly.

  “It splats, just like anything else.”

  “Precisely. Only, the more charge the battery has stored within itself at the point of impact—the longer it has been falling—the bigger the splat. But what would happen if, somehow, at the last second before impact, the battery could discharge all of its kinetic energy, thereby completely negating its momentum?”

  Colton frowned. “I guess it would cancel out the fall and the battery would land safely on the ground.”

  “Excellent!” said Alistair. “I want you to think really hard about that in the next few minutes.”

  “Why?” asked Colton.

  “Because you’re the battery.”

  Alistair turned the handle on the door and flung it open. Wind ripped into the cabin and the jet shuddered violently. Colton was thrown off-balance and managed to get both feet back on the floor just as Alistair placed his hand firmly in the middle of Colton’s back and shoved him out of the plane.

  He tumbled through the air, spinning rapidly as he dropped toward the Earth. His vision was a lightning-fast slide show—plane getting smaller, ground getting closer, plane getting smaller, ground getting closer.

  The wind tore at his clothes, whipping his shirt up over his face every time he flipped in the air.

  Colton closed his eyes and screamed.

  17

  Haven’s head swam with dizziness and pain, and she had a hard time focusing on her surroundings. She dedicated all of her energy on putting one foot in front of the other as Marius led the way out of the facility.

  He rushed her through a door and into a tall stairwell. He climbed the steps two at a time, carrying Haven most of the way and counting the doors they passed along the way.

  “…three…four…five! Here it is.”

  He let Haven rest against the wall while he peered through the small rectangular window in the door. Haven leaned over to look and saw a receptionist’s area beyond, with several men and women seated behind a long desk next to a big glass door which led to the outside world.

  “Oh!” said Marius. “I forgot, I’m so sorry.”

  He reached behind her head with both hands and touched the face covering. There was a small flash of orange light and the straps loosened. He pulled it away gently and threw it aside.

  “Thank you,” whispered Haven.

  Marius smiled. “Thank me if we get out in one piece.”

  He held up a finger to be quiet and cocked his head. Footsteps pounded up the hallway from below. Marius ran to the railing and looked down the stairwell.

  “They move quickly. Many more than I was hoping.”

  He walked back to the door and kicked it open. A woman on the other side screamed and jumped up from her chair. All of the receptionists reached for the nearest phone as Marius strolled into the room supporting Haven.

  “Just making withdrawal!” he said, laughing.

  He lifted Haven off the ground and ran to the door. The receptionists were shouting for them to stop, but Marius pushed open the large glass door and ran out into the bright sunlight.

  “Almost there,” he told her. “Almost safe.”

  A black four-door car with darkly tinted windows screeched to a halt in the parking lot in front of the building. Marius hurried over to it and set Haven in the back seat after the door popped open from the inside. He quickly shut her door and climbed into the passenger seat, shouting, “Go go go!”

  The driver—a short woman with shock-white hair—slammed down on the gas pedal and peeled out of the parking lot.

  Haven managed to sit up and look out through the back window. Only a small concrete dome with a single glass door and several windows sat in the middle of a vast desert—the entire complex must have been underground. A paved parking lot surrounded the dome but was mostly empty except for a few large, black pickup trucks with modified bodies and large tires. As Haven watched, the glass door opened and a group of men wielding large guns ran outside. They split up and got into two of the black trucks. Their tires kicked up dirt and gravel as they sped out of the parking lot and followed after the sedan.

  “Well,” said Marius as he looked back, “I guess they wanted to keep you after all.”

  Haven closed her eyes as a heavy wave of nausea passed through her body. She felt as if she were in an elevator that was dropping too quickly.

  She took a deep breath and sat up in the back seat of the car to try and focus on what was happening around her.

  Marius stood up in the passenger seat and faced backward, the top half of his body sticking out through the open sunroof of the car. He had some kin
d of machine gun and fired short bursts at the two trucks. Haven looked back and saw that all of the bullets were hitting the road near the tires of the pursuing vehicles, but none made contact with the spinning wheels.

  Marius uttered foreign curses under his breath and tossed the gun into the back seat next to Haven. He dropped down into his seat, scowling.

  “Time for big gun,” he said.

  The white-haired woman behind the wheel nodded and pushed a button on the side of her seat. She slid back as far as she could go, then turned on the car’s cruise control. Marius reached over and held the wheel as the woman nimbly climbed over the center console and into the passenger’s seat. Marius grinned when she sat in his lap.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” she said playfully.

  “Ha!” said Marius. He clumsily made his way into the driver’s seat and sat down. “By the way,” he shouted into the back seat, “this is Corva.”

  Haven brushed the hair out of her eyes and tried to smile, but all she could manage was a weak little smirk.

  Corva stood up through the sunroof and straddled the center console, one foot in the middle of each seat.

  “Careful!” said Marius as he looked down between his legs at the shiny black boot digging into the seat. “This real leather!”

  Corva stuck her right arm down into the car impatiently and waved in front of Marius’s face. He grabbed her forearm just above the wrist and she held onto his arm tightly.

  A pale orange glow wavered across Marius’s skin. It grew intensely until it became a sheath of flame that covered his entire body. Some of the flames licked out like snapping whips before being pulled back into his body. Haven reached toward him and felt heat, but nothing around him was melting. He looked at her in the rearview mirror and his eyes burst into orange flame. The fire moved quickly up to his hair and soon that, too, was ablaze, dancing wildly against the inside roof of the car. The cloth, the seat—everything touched by the flames remained unburned.