Hunter's Daughter

Chapter Thirteen ~ Noah

Shadow abilities were rarer than I'd realized. A lot of my contacts stabbed in the dark to remember where they'd heard or seen mutants with those techniques, not certain of their locations or names or anything. Guess they were shifty individuals, living up to their gift, remaining in the shadows, out of reach from Hunters – and me, apparently.

I'd wound up in the bar where I'd first encountered Gunnar. That nut-job had more than one screw loose, another victim of memory loss. No one could tell him who'd blanked his brain. He just woke up in an alleyway, carrying nothing but an empty gun. Resulting in his pet name, Gunnar. At least, that's what he'd rabbited in my ear whilst tending the bar, and I'd tried to enjoy a beer in peace.

I pointed him in the direction of a notorious mutant gang, the Kepler Crew, just to shut him up. Conveniently missing out the detail where you'd be a member for life.

Admittedly, I was a little harsh that day. But, what's done is done, am I right? Least he made it out alive.

Dark purple, ten o'clock.

The guy wandered in, stripping his coat off and sat a few stools down from me. The barkeeper had similar powers to dear ol' Gunnar, dampening the power outages, but that didn't stop me from easing into Purple's mind, slurping my beer as I did so. The information scuttled over, into my cerebral grasp, confirming this man had exactly what we needed. Shadow-dimension abilities.

When a telepath entered your head, it often tickled at the base of your neck; only the most expert of telepaths snuck in unnoticed. I was decent, but the guy turned to glance over his shoulder, eyes skimming the crowd. My own were glued to the shelved beverages, not giving myself away.

He eventually settled back down, ordering his own drink. Several minutes drawled by and I decided this was my queue to leave. I slapped down the notes, and headed toward the corridor. That's when I made my move.

Meet me tonight, Union College, 8pm, the sports field.

What do you want?, his uneasy voice thought back.

Information. Be there. Or I'll make sure Hunters find you.

His other thoughts didn't travel to me in time, as I'd stepped out of the door, a grin hitching up my lips.

***

The college was becoming a regular place to visit – not by choice, of course. When Alice had recommended, I'd had a nosey around the grounds, finding the pitch with its built-in bleakers, deciding they would be an excellent spot for low-key meetings. So that's where I stood, concealed by the tiered benches. I used the gaps to check whether Purple-Powers arrived early.

Bam smack on time, the average-looking guy ambled into the middle of the field, right under the floodlights. He scanned the area, to and fro, unhinged.

I revealed my location, meandering over to him.

"Noah Boravich?"

"So you know me."

"I've heard of you," he replied. "Heard a lot of stories."

"Cute," I said, shoving my hands in my pockets. "I'm not here for stories. Tell me about your power."

The man wasn't playing ball, paying attention to the far end of the field. "I don't need recruiting by anybody, if that's what you think."

"Fair enough," I shrugged. "Just tell me about your power."

Irritating me further, the mutant stared me down, tossing back a, "Why do you want to know?"

Okay, so I forced him here. But what is his problem? Just tell me about your power, jerk. My fists balled in the front of my hoody. If he knew so much about me, he'd know I didn't appreciate jip.

"Why are you avoiding the question?" I snapped. The cogs began to turn. How did he know what I looked like if he'd only heard of me? "Wait. Are you–?" Darn it. "You're distracting me."

"Right you are."

I didn't wait for an introduction. Turning on my heels, I punched nothing but air. Fuzzy, black shapes darted at me, unrecognizable from so close up. I'd done a full three hundred and sixty degrees before she stood before me. None other than Clarissa. I watched as pieces of bats dissolved into flesh and clothes — the man had vanished.

Dark eyes glared at me; her features thunderous. Her eyebrows knitted together and jaw tightened, clenching her teeth. She wasn't pleased to see me.

"Clara," I greeted, rotating my neck so it cracked. She flinched slightly, and I recognised the seething anger within her. Calling her by her old nickname didn't help.

"Times up," she said. "You going to come the easy way or not?"

"The latter, I'm afraid," I replied. "Though I can't help wondering why you go through with this. Every time we fight, you get hurt."

She leapt at me, pulling a knife from out of her sleeve. And I made for her wrist, grabbing then twisting it, the knife somersaulting into the front row of the bleachers. Same old tricks.

"You make us sound like a couple," she managed to hiss, wincing at my grasp on her.

My grip tightened. Crying out in pain, Clarissa swung her other arm so it smacked me in the chin, my head lolling back. I stepped away, managing to outstretch my arm, sparks of electricity dancing from my fingertips as she ran for the knife – but she threw herself onto the grass, sliding as the bolts flew over her.

Like an elastic band, she grabbed the handle and snapped my way, throwing it at me. The blade spun as it gravitated towards my head, but missed, scraping my ear. And it stung like crazy.

"You're not going to get away, Noah," she seethed, pushing herself up. "You're surrounded."

At that, she pulled out a remote, with one click, snuffing out our powers. Oh, great. The thrum of my pulse intensified, bordering on hysteria. I'd been in worse positions. This was nothing.

The edges of the field were gathering with Hunters, their black attire almost blending them in with the night. They were like wolves of the darkness, their glinting eyes replaced with the shimmer of googles, hungry mouths covered by the balaclavas. They were ready to pounce, awaiting Clarissa's signal.

Okay, this looked pretty bleak. The Beginning of the end type situation. The end of Noah Boravich.

Ha. No chance. This called for a do-it-once never-again strategy that had a high chance of killing me.

I scrunched my fingers, straining for my power – hoping and praying that my body would comply, and the teleportation technique would too. Pain tore through my veins, up from my feet and from my fingers, consuming my limbs. I howled at how severe it was, but pushed on, scrounging up what I could, knowing this pain meant one thing.

It was working.

Clarissa started to sprint over to me, as I endured what could only be described as being tasered, set on fire and shot all at once. Or my flesh was being peeled off, someone gouging out my eyes, which were now squeezed together so hard I'd be surprised if I didn't go blind.

I was still screaming as my ability triggered, tossing me onto the hard floor of the last place on earth I'd want to be.

The old warehouse.

The portal hadn't allowed anyone else through, much to my relief, and I closed my eyes again, calming my jagged breaths, happy to lay on the dusty floor for a couple of hours. Not that I could stay here. Hunter's would be scrabbling to rip the temporal hole open again, and I didn't have any strength to fight anymore.

Everywhere hurt. Ribs felt broken, like a collapsed pile of bones in my chest, crushing my heart and other vital organs. Breathing didn't feel great either, coughs coming out rattly and harsh. I licked my lips, tasting copper. My abilities were sulking, hating me for putting that much pressure on them, my healing technique shaking its head at me, noncompliant.

With a groan, I thrust myself up, tottering as I tried to stand. The top half of me weighed treble the usual amount, and I swayed a little. The room was on a turn-table, spinning and spinning and I was going to heave at any minute.

Thankfully, I didn't lose my dinner, managing to stagger out of the ruins of the factory, in attempts to get home.

This better be worth it.