The DX Chronicles (Book 1): Not Against Flesh and Blood Page 10

  “Wait, Dave”, Erik began. “I know this sounds weird…truth be told, I’m kind of weirded out too… No, scratch that, I’m not just kind of weirded out, I’m still not believing this, but it is true!” He stepped, and David stepped back.

  “Bull! This isn’t right…this isn’t…this isn’t real!” David exclaimed, “forget it, I’m_”

  “Piekarsky, please wait, I’m serious. I didn’t know about this, about Nate, about Shawn, or you. I didn’t find out that any of you had powers until ten minutes ago. I wouldn’t have believed it if not for me seeing it myself.”

  “You found out I had powers?” David blasted. “No! That secret’s been kept with my family for six generations. The only people outside of my family who were aware were the freakin’ military. I covered my tracks, I never acted in public until yesterday, and I spent years training to act and react within normal human speed and strength when I played sports in high school! I got by for twenty-two years without someone figuring it out, and now you’re saying you did it in ten minutes!?”

  “No, Dave, that’s not what I meant”, Erik replied.

  “Then how did you find out?!” David bellowed.

  Erik sighed and then, with a light squeeze of his fists, vanished the flames. He glanced over his shoulders, to Nate, and to Shawn, turned to David, and rubbed the top of his forehead. “B-money told me”, he groaned.

  “I’m sorry…I must’ve misheard”, Nate called. “B-money told you? B-money as in Bryen Cody-who-doesn’t-talk-very-often?”

  “Well…yeah”, Erik replied as he turned to Shawn and then looked to the canopy above him. Shawn, David, and Nate turned after him, expecting Bryen to come crashing in either a hard leap or a controlled touchdown; neither occurred, and the possibility of Bryen’s absence came to mind, but, as the seconds passed, their eyes became readjusted to the ceiling, and, as they perceived the intertwining limbs and their leafy edges, they located an oblong shape atop one of the lower branches. It didn’t move, and, as they focused upon it, it didn’t seem animate until they noticed a flash, or more, a slight diminution in visible light.

  They squinted and locked onto bright-yellow irises which seemed to emanate their own golden light. Within the centers of those irises were pointed, needlelike pupils appearing, to the three onlookers, to be the gaze of something animalian. They then made out the basic outline of a human being, perhaps kneeling with only his feet and hands touching the branch. However, their gazes were further obscured, not by the darkness, for their eyes had readjusted; instead, it seemed that that shape was exuding its own darkness, shrouding itself so that only its silhouette was discernible to the unaided eye.

  “So…” Nate began as he stepped back but kept his eyes locked on Bryen, “that’s either B-money with jacked-up eyes, or a very large, nocturnal tree squirrel.”

  “Well…his skin is kind of dark in the daylight”, Shawn noted. “B-money, what are you doin’ up there?”

  “Wait, wait, Shawn, what?” Erik asked as he spun to Shawn.

  “I didn’t mean it in a racist way; it was just an observation”, Shawn replied.

  “O-kay”, David interjected as he lifted his arms, “B-money is a cat in a tree, Klinge is a lightning-jerk (Get it? ‘Klinge’ for ‘static cling’?), Shawn has a really stupid power, and Erik can set things on fire with his mind. It all makes sense.”

  “Wait, what? Really?” Erik asked, “Because I’m still kind of confused.”

  “No, it’s okay. It’s okay to be confused; you can do that because you’re just a figment of my imagination”, David replied with a grin.

  “Uh, no”, Erik replied while shaking his head.

  “Yep”, David replied with a nod.

  “Piekarsky, none of us are dreaming”, Nate called as he crossed his arms.

  “Shut up, Dream-Klinge!” David blasted. “You know what? Frick everything; I’m definitely asleep. B-money in a tree with cat eyes proves the notion that I’m knocked out and on something. You know what? I must’ve taken cold medicine. It totally would have been warranted though. I had a light sore throat and the whole bridge crashing and stuff. I needed to calm my mind (and my sore throat); I can’t have a sore throat on my first day of classes.”

  “Dave, you’re seriously not dreaming”, Shawn called.

  “Oh, yes I am! I’m totally paranoid after the bridge, which explains why I’m tripping out right now, and why Shawn’s power is so lame. In real life, none of you know that I have powers. Tomorrow’s going to be a normal day, and I’m going to wake up well-rested because I’m in bed right now and dreaming. You know what? Since this is my dream—get this”, David began as he spun to each person, “since this is my dream, and no one will know about it, I’m going to go shoot hoops in the Branch Center without any clothes on! And there’s nothing you dream-whores can do about it!”

  “No, no, Piekarsky, we’re serious. My lame power is real!” Shawn called. “You’re not dreaming, bud!”

  “Dave!” Erik called as David turned away, “Piekarsky, for real, you cannot play basketball without clothes on!”

  “You and Nate were obvious.”

  David stopped at the monotonous tone he had grown accustomed to over five semesters and, with the rest of the group, looked up as Bryen stood and sauntered towards the edge of a branch.

  “Obvious? Bull crap!” Nate grunted as Bryen stepped onto the trunk and then walked down it, his feet remaining adhered, and his shadow moving under his boots as an obsidian blotch several times darker than the forest.

  “Nope, you were pretty obvious”, Bryen replied as he stepped onto the ground, walked towards the outskirts of the group, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I had my suspicions about Nate for a while, especially after his X-Box broke last year from electrical damage that never happens short of lightning striking it (I researched it) which occurred seconds after a minor tantrum from losing some game. And then there was Piekarsky’s ‘driving ability’—he’d almost gotten himself into three-plus accidents (and those are the ones when I was in the car), but he avoided them each time because he reacted a lot faster than a normal human with an adrenaline rush should be capable of doing. I wasn’t able to confirm Nate until last night at CeCe’s, but, after I woke up and found Piekarsky gone, I suspected that he’d figured Nate out, and I told Erik.”

  “What about me?” Shawn asked.

  “You have a huge assortment of paper under your bed, with types that accounting majors should never have to use. That always weirded me out, but you were kind of the variable”, Bryen remarked with a shrug.

  “Well what are you doing looking under my bed?”

  “So then you didn’t know I had powers when we met freshman year?” David asked.

  “Nope”, Bryen replied as he scratched the back of his head and then pressed his hand across his face, causing a momentary glare from his eyeglasses.

  “And then”, David began as he looked around, “you guys are saying the same thing?”

  “Up until a few years ago, the only people I knew outside of my family with powers were close friends”, Shawn began. “I never intended to show my powers to anyone but my future wife, should I find her here, and I did everything to cover them up so I could come here. I was convinced that I’d have less trouble with government compliances if I came to Igneous, due to it being military-friendly.”

  “And Klinge?” David asked as he turned to Nate.

  “I was never registered with the government, and no one in my family has been registered for the past seventy-ish years. I just wanted to get out of Franconia”, Nate replied.

  “I wasn’t registered either”, Bryen remarked. “I’m not even one hundred-percent sure if the government knows about me.”

  “Wait”, David began as he stepped, and Shawn and Nate stepped back out of kneejerk, “how’d you know about Erik if you didn’t know about me, Klinge, or Albert?”

  “B-money discovered me a couple weeks into freshman year”, Erik explained. “He jus
t showed up in my room and tried to set me on fire. I retaliated, and we figured out that we both have powers and were living on the same hall.”

  “Hold up…You tried to set him on fire!?” Shawn asked.

  “I had a feeling”, Bryen replied with a shrug.

  “So then, you didn’t know about any of us?” David asked to Erik.

  “Not at all, which is kinda weird. Igneous was one of the places the government would let me attend because Langley’s only five, or so, hours away by car. I was briefed on the institution, my cover story, the majors I could choose, everything; except for you guys…which is really weird. At the very least, you and Shawn are registered, and I should’ve been informed; like you supposed, Piekarsky, to keep watch over you, but that never happened…but then…” Erik tapped his left foot. “It should have; my contact should’ve pulled up the information on anyone who I was living with on the hall. It’s proper protocol. If he looked up your files, he should’ve seen that you were registered gifteds and then told me, but he didn’t look you up…or…he didn’t tell me…”

  “Well, who’s your contact?” David asked.

  “Oh…well…” Erik stepped back and sighed, his hands sliding through his hair as he looked around. “Let’s head back, and I’ll take you to him…”

  ***

  “Turrisi…Turrisi…Dave…Turrisi…Dave Turrisi…”

  “Yeah?” Turrisi wailed as he opened his eyes.

  “Hey, Turrisi, can you wake up for a few minutes?”

  Turrisi looked past the prongs of his top bunk and to Erik leaning towards him.

  “What’s up?” Turrisi asked as he grabbed his phone from the container attached to his bed and illuminated the front display. He then groaned as he saw the time—5:12 a.m. The moment he discerned the difference between when he wanted to awaken—somewhere after 9:00—and when he had been awakened, his eyes became heavy.

  “We have a small problem”, Erik whispered as he looked to the bottom bunk and watched that individual stir.

  “What is it?” Turrisi asked as he rubbed his eyes.

  “Just come with me for a second”, Erik finished.

  Turrisi reared up as Erik scurried out of the room. With his phone in hand, Turrisi lowered himself out of his bed, and with his eyelids barely open, he ambled towards the door in shorts and a tee shirt. He opened the door with his left and stepped into the hallway. He closed it, but stopped, and raised his slouching posture as he found four more beside Erik: David, Bryen, Nate, and then Shawn, whose face was covered in cuts and bruises.

  “Uh…what?” Turrisi asked as he noted the scuffs and bruises also on Nate’s and David’s clothes and faces. “Shawn, what the crap happened to your face, and why are you guys up so early?” As Turrisi finished, Nate lifted his right hand. A flash sped between Nate’s fingers. Before Turrisi could respond, his phone flew from his grasp and into Nate’s hand, where it remained. “…What?” Turrisi muttered as he locked eyes with Nate, noticing Nate’s exhausted, but sharp, glare. Turrisi then scanned the group, finding identical expressions of lethargy, of exhaustion, and, perhaps, as he looked to David, of indignation. “Frick!” Turrisi coughed as he pulled his hair.

  “So…this is where you start talking”, David began as he crossed his arms.

  “Well…not me…not here”, Turrisi replied as he looked around. “Let me get changed, and I’ll take you guys to my handler; he’s, like, five minutes away.”

  “Wait”, Erik interjected. “Handler’s here? In Lynchburg? Since freakin’ when!?”

  “Since freshman year…let me get changed, and he’ll fill you guys in”, Turrisi muttered as he opened his door, stopped, and turned to Nate.

  “Oh, right”, Nate replied as he lobbed the phone to Turrisi. Turrisi caught it, turned, and closed the door.

  Chapter Six: Sunday, 17 January

  With the sun far from rising, none were present to view the overfilled Escape turning left onto the empty, four-lane road and moving southbound for a few seconds before coming to a turning lane along the median, rising, and revving down an adjoining two-lane road and past a signpost which read, ‘Legacy at Lincoln Place’.

  “So, if I understand this correctly”, David began as he looked to a gated pool on his left, “…nice place…” he mumbled, “but if I understand this correctly”, he repeated as he turned to Turrisi in the front seat dressed in a pair of jeans and his leather jacket, “you give Erik orders in person, but your handler gives you orders?” He looked left and slowed as he came upon a set of six, three-story buildings.

  “Not here”, Turrisi spoke, “the next set… And, yeah…that’s it in a nutshell”, he replied. “Turn right here. All of those cop stories about my uncle that I would tell Erik? They were code for assignments”, Turrisi explained as the vehicle was turned onto a downhill slope. “Turn left here.”

  “So you’re pretty much given secret missions to kill people and stuff”, David remarked as he turned onto a perpendicular road that circled in front of a second complex of buildings.

  “Yeah, pretty much”, Turrisi replied.

  “Except I haven’t been cleared for assassinations”, Erik remarked as he sat behind David and next to Nate.

  “Building One Thousand”, Turrisi remarked as he pointed to the third building along the left.

  David turned into a handicapped spot near the building’s front entrance, and, after glancing to his passengers who looked to the signpost and the penalty at its apex, said, “It’s five in the morning; no one’s going to need this spot”, and deactivated the engine. “All right, is everyone ready for this? We might discover some serious things in a couple of minutes, or, as some say: crap’s about to get real.”

  “Surprisingly”, Shawn began as he sat on the right side of the back seat, “I’m not too tired. Is anyone else tired?”

  “Yes”, Bryen grunted as he knelt in the trunk.

  “Shawn, you’re probably suffering from a concussion” David remarked. “Everything’s good now, but, in about a few hours, you’ll feel like crap. If you start to feel sleepy, let us know, okay? Is anyone (not suffering from a concussion) sleepy?”

  “Everyone else should be fine; you didn’t wail on their faces like a rabid gorilla”, Nate grunted.

  “Okay, Klinge, you know what_!?”

  “I’m not sleepy”, Turrisi interrupted as he waved in front of David.

  “All right, Turrisi’s not sleepy; that might mean something.” David opened his door, and the others followed, pouring out of the Escape, stepping onto the ground, and groaning as their bodies reminded them, via choral ache, that it was just after five in the morning. As the group stretched, and as Shawn wiped the blood from his face and onto the top of his shirt, Erik opened the trunk, allowing Bryen to hop out.

  “Do you think anyone’s watching us?” Bryen asked as they started towards the front stairwell under the building’s awning, while he scanned the dozens of windows within view.

  “The people here tend to mind their business. That’s why Handler picked this apartment complex”, Turrisi explained as he ascended the steps, with Erik and David behind him, Shawn after David, Nate behind Erik, and Bryen closing the rear.

  “Is he even awake right now?” David asked as Turrisi turned right onto a connecting hallway, his voice echoing off of the walls and carrying down both ends of the corridor.

  “His sleeping habits are pretty…messed up”, Turrisi finished as they came to the last door on the right side which sat a foot from another staircase, and was numbered, at the top-center of the door, with ‘1010’. Turrisi knocked five times before stepping back and turning to his right. The remainder of the group had moved away in the midst of his knocks, and, as Turrisi found them standing just beyond the doorway’s line of sight, he squinted. “Really?” Turrisi muttered as drawing footsteps directed him to the door. A light scrape echoed along the doorway, followed by a lighter shuffle, and then the clank of the deadbolt being retracted and the near-simultaneous squeal of
the entrance being thrust inward.

  “Ah, Dave”, greeted a man in his late twenties and of pale complexion who stood around six feet while barefoot, and had a girth of around one hundred and sixty pounds. His eyes, rounded masses that seemed unblinking, were a deep brown that matched the elongated strands of chocolate-brown hair hanging to the bottoms of his ears, while below his eyelids were several black lines. His face was circular and appeared smooth with a few mustache hairs sprouting under his nose. His body, an athletic frame leaning more towards average, was dressed in a black, short-sleeved tee shirt and a pair of baggy blue jeans, while atop his head sat a deep-blue fitted hat with the insignia of the Indianapolis Colts. “The satellites detected some commotion on the other side of Igneous Mountain”, he began, his voice a lower-pitched hum, “would you happen to be in contact with Erik? I figure I should check in with him just in case.” He outstretched his long arms and pulled his upper body out of the entrance to look down the steps to his right and then to look to his left.

  He shook. His gaze widened as he locked onto the five individuals looking back with expressions appearing befuddled, exhausted, or, in Shawn’s case, concussed. “Oh…” he muttered as he closed his eyes, lifted his hand to slap his forehead, but then stopped halfway.

  “Hey, Dave”, Erik murmured as he pocketed his hands.

  “…Hey?” David inquired as he looked to Erik and then back to the man stepping out of the door.

  “No, his name’s also_”

  “Dave—David Lamback”, the man sighed as he glanced to Turrisi and crossed his arms.

  “Oh, well that’s a good-looking name”, David replied, “My name is also_”

  “David Piekarsky”, Dave Lamback interjected, “and you’re Shawn Albert, Bryen Cody, and Nathanael Klinge.”

  “A-a-and this just became really weird…” David noted, while Nate shrugged, lifted his right hand, and charged several bolts of electricity.