The Outskirts: Thé Crystal Keepers (Jace x OC)

The Crystal Keepers: 27

The next day, I tried to get some alone time with Jace, but Trickster dragged me out for patrols.
"Come on," he said, pulling me out of the room. "You two can flirt later."
I gave Jace an apologetic smile, and he smirked and gave Trickster a solute.
We took our usually route, staying quiet and ducking behind building. After a while we climbed the buildings, the battle suits helping us with our grip.
"I'm going to jump to that building and check the neighboring building to the north. The day Roulette and Jace showed up, we saw some bots scanning that building. I want to check to see if they are there, and then we can head back to the base."
I nodded as he leaped to the neighboring building, and his next leap lead him out of sight.
A robotic hand clamped around my arm, and I tried to twist away from the metal grip, but the fingers tightened, making my struggles useless.
"Let go of me!" I said, trying to pull away. "Trickster!" I yelled as loud as I could. "Tri—"
Thé métal hand clamped over my mouth. I thrashed and twisted, but nothing worked. Never releasing me, the drone marched across the roof to a door. The drone took me the through the door and lead me down stairs and down a long hallway to another nondescript door. We went down another hall to a room where a woman waited—a pretty blonde in a white shirt with a blue leather vest and matching pants. In the corner a metal coffin sat on a wheeled cart.
The drone forced me into the room. The tall robot had to crouch a little to fit through the doorway.
"You led us on a merry chase," the woman said. "I didn't think you'd make the mistake of coming back this way, but the Hunter was right. Maybe one day I'll learn not to doubt him."
The drone was still gripping my arm. There was no way to run.
All I had left were words. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Sure you do," the woman said, producing a syringe. "It's over, kid. Try to relax."
While the drone held me  steady, she swiftly poked the needle into my arm and pressed the plunger. I squirmed and thrashed, but it did no good.
Whatever she had injected in me acted quickly. I became light headed, and the woman began to blur. Within a moment I limply swayed as the floor seemed to tilt. The drone held me up.
"Don't do this," I said, the words mushy. "Please, let me go."
"Don't fight it," the woman said. "Relax. You have a ride to catch."
The woman lifted the hinged lid of the coffin, and the drone placed me inside. It was padded. I fought to keep my eyes open but lost consciousness before the lid closed.

                              ~Timeskip~

Consciousness returned by degrees. All I knew at first was that I still felt to tired to open my eyes.
The hard surface beneath me failed to ignite my curiosity. Where exactly was I?
When I moved to rubbed my eyes, I found that my arm was restrained. My eyes snapped open, the drowsy calm dispelled. I discovered that my arms and legs were cuffed to a metal table inside a bare, white room. A panicked burst of struggling proved that the restraints were solid. A counter with a sink and several drawers looked to be the only furnishings besides my metal slab.
Getting captured came back to me in a rush. How had I forgotten? The injection must have left me groggy.
How long had I been out? My mouth was really dry and had a coppery taste. A long time could have passed. Where was I? It looked like a room in a hospital. Maybe a mental hospital? Or some kind of prison?
"Rise and shine!" greeted the youthful voice of the Hunter from a speaker in the ceiling. "I guess you can't rise yet, but I'm glad you're awake. You had a nice trip?"
"Where am I?" I asked, unsure if the Hunter could hear me.
"You're at my favorite retreat in Zeropolis," the Hunter said. "I'm here too. I'll come see you in a minute."
"Could you bring some water?"
"You bet. Sit tight."
I waited. It wasn't long before the door opened and a person entered dressed all in dark leather. A helmet hid the face. The person set a glass of water on the counter, then closed the door and locked it.
Pulling off his helmet, the person revealed himself to be a boy about my age. The kid stared at me for a long moment, his face lighting up with joy and relief. His huge smile looked involuntary. Tears shimmered in his eyes.
"I can't believe it's really you," he said.
The reaction left me confused. "Man, you really wanted to catch me."
The Hunter laughed, still looking delighted. "Yeah, I guess I did. I've been on you since Elloweer. You didn't make it easy."
"You're the Hunter?" I asked.
"You knew I was young," he said. "Almost as young as you. I'm a little older than I look. My shaping powers make me age slowly. Take a good look at me. Do I look familiar?"
I was at a loss. The kid had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. "Not really."
The Hunter came closer. "Come on. Look hard. Think. Nobody is listening anymore. Who am I, Kendal?"
"Have we met before?" I asked, thoroughly perplexed.
The Hunter looked a little disappointed. "You've known me most of your life."
"Most of my life was back on Earth."
The Hunter watched him. "You're getting warmer."
"I knew you on Earth?"
"In Arizona," the Hunter said.
I looked him up and down, trying to place him. "Has it been a while? Were you a lot younger or something?"
The Hunter shook his head. "Part of the time. You've known me since you were born. The last time you saw me, I looked pretty much like this. Come on, think."
"Are you just messing with me?"
"No. Your parents are Bryant and Liz Anderson."
"How do you know that?"
"They're my parents too, dummy. I'm your brother. Hunter Anderson."
I was speechless. This was ludicrous. What kind of game was the Hunter playing? The kid was not familiar at all. "Yeah, whatever."
"Don't, Kendal. I'm serious. Look at me. Can't you see the family resemblance?"
I supposed me and the kid shared some physical similarities, like the blonde hair and blue eyes. But we were hardly twins. "You look my age."
"I'm about a year older than you. In more than two years, I've only aged about six months. Ashley is a year older than me."
I shook my head. "You are such a liar. You searched me on the Internet. Nice try. No way am I believing you."
"Think, Kendal," the Hunter said. "Nobody back home remembers you. I was taken before you, so you don't remember me. I hoped that maybe since we were both here now, there might be a little spark of memory."
I honestly had no shred of memory of this kid. It had to be a lie. Surely I would remember my own brother. "Why would my brother work for the High King?" I challenged.
"The same reason the CIA works for the president," the Hunter said. "The High King is in charge. He's been good to me. You've gotten involved with some bad people, Kendal. You have no idea."
I shook my head. This was so bogus. "You must think I'm stupid."
"Use your head," the Hunter said. "If you're not my sister, you're just some runaway slave. Why would I go to all this effort to bring you in without anybody knowing?"
"To get me to betray my friends."
"I wouldn't mind that," the Hunter mused. "But there are easier ways to get to your friends. The patrolmen could force you to give them up. Or the legionnaires. They have cruel methods that work. I'm trying to give you a second chance. You got mixed up with the wrong side. I get it. I know what it's like to be new here. It's confusing. You got brainwashed. When I saw your picture in Carthage, I realized who you were. I got permission from the High King to let you join us.
You're my sister. I'm trying to save you."
I laughed. "Is that why I'm locked up?"
"You're locked up until I decide you won't do anything stupid. You've always been feisty. Come on, Kendal. I'm not familiar at all?"
"Not a bit," I said sincerely.
The Hunter reached into his pocket and took out a wallet. He removed a little photo and held it up to me. It was the family picture that hung in my living room. I knew it well. A few years old, the picture showed me, Chelsea, and our parents. And some other kid.
I blinked, then squinted.
"Wait a minute," I said.
"That's right," the Hunter encouraged. "Do you see?"
The other kid in the photo was the Hunter, looking not much younger than he did right now.
"No way," I said. "You faked this."
"I brought the picture here with me. Look at it."
I closed my eyes.
"I said look," the Hunter urged.
"Give me a second," I said. I was trying to envision the picture in the living room. There was no extra kid in it, was there? I had a faint recollection of noticing another kid in the shot, and briefly wondering who it could be. Was that even a real memory?
I opened my eyes. The Hunter was unmistakable, right in the middle of the picture. He was wearing the right clothes and had the right hair style. In the picture, he and I definitely looked like siblings, with the blonde hair and striking blue eyes.
"It looks real," I said.
"Because it is," the Hunter said. "I still look like myself. I haven't aged much, and I haven't dyed my hair."
"I was trying to avoid detection," I said.
"I saw the emails you sent to the family account," the Hunter said. "Did you see mine?"
"No," I said.
"I've been sending them for years," the Hunter said. "It was funny to see you sending the same kind of messages while not opening mine."
"Can I see?" I asked.
"Sure, I have a thruport here," the Hunter said. "There are plenty of other pictures of me in the family email account and on social media. Maybe now you'll recognize me in them."
I didn't want to believe any of this. But what if the Hunter wasn't lying? What if it was true? "You lived in our house?" I asked.
"Right across the hall from your room," the Hunter said.
"That's the guest room," I replied.
The Hunter stared at me meaningfully. "Maybe now. What about all my football stuff? The trophies and medals? My posters?"
I scrunched my brow. What exactly was in the guest room? Were there trophies? I couldn't form a clear picture in my mind.
"I don't know. I don't remember any of that."
The Hunter laughed bitterly. "Now we have two guest rooms. And even more unnoticed trophies."
"I don't remember you," I said honestly. "This seems impossible."
"The Outskirts is a weird place," the Hunter said. "I hate that you can't remember. You have to trust that I remember you! You're my little sister! We'll become friends again. We did it once."
I stared at the Hunter. Could this be true? I had always thought it would be cool to have a brother.
"I don't know what to say," I said.
"I knew this might be hard for you," the Hunter said. "I knew you might not remember. I'll give you lots of proof. This isn't a trick. I know all sorts of things you can't find on the Internet. Remember when that peacock chased Chelsea at the Phoenix Zoo? Remember when Mom backed the car into the garage door?"
I tried to think of things he would know if he was telling the truth.
"Who is my best friend in Mesa?"
"Is it still Jenna?"
"What sports do I play?"
"You play volleyball and . . . Do you still run track?"
I nodded and tried to think of more things only a family member would know. "What does Mom keep in the bathroom to read?"
"Those weird condensed books. Reader's Digest. And Dad sometimes brings in Sports Illustrated."
I stared at him, trying to find a conclusion to how he knew all this. "What is Chelsea allergic to?"
The Hunter scowled in thought. "I don't remember."
I rolled my eyes. "It's a food. You should know this."
"Right! Frozen berries. They give her weird little sores on her tongue."
"What animal does Mom hate?"
"Geckos."
I felt like I might cry. How could the Hunter know so many obscure details? I considered how much I hoped my family would remember me. My brother had been going through this for years now. "How are you the Hunter?"
"People call me the Hunter. Really I'm just Hunter. Hunter Anderson. Your brother."
"But you're on the wrong side," I whispered.
Hunter shook his head. "You're just brainwashed. It'll be okay. I'll help you."
"No way, Hunter. You might really be my brother. If it's true, I'm so sorry I don't remember you. But if you think you're on the right side, you don't know the whole story."
Hunter sighed. "I'm sure they told you all sorts of things. Every criminal has excuses. Some probably sound pretty good. The Unseen are terrorists. They're trying to destroy the Outskirts. It may take some time, but I'll help you see what's really going on."
I tried to stay calm. I had to believe Hunter didn't
know some key facts if he was happy fighting for the High King. What information was most likely to sway him?
"Do you know who you've been chasing?" I asked.
"A slave girl named Mira," Hunter said. "She ran away with secrets vital to the High King. He wants her alive."
I shook my head. "Do you know who she really is?"
"I just told you."
"Do you know about Stafford's five daughters?"
"Everybody does. They died in an accident a long time ago."
I shook my head again, getting frustrated. "Their father faked their deaths. He stole their shaping powers with shapecraft, and wanted to keep them imprisoned, but they got away. Losing their powers made them completely stop aging. They lived in exile for decades. Mira is Miracle Pemberton. For some reason, the shapecraft that took their powers started to unravel, and Stafford started to lose his stolen abilities. He wants his daughters back so he can take their powers again."
"I'm glad to hear that," Hunter said. "I'm relieved you have good reasons for taking the wrong side. If I believed that were true, I wouldn't want to serve the High King either. But it's all lies, Kendal. That's what the rebels do."
"Those aren't lies," I said. "I've been with Mira for months. Shapecrafters used her powers to make Carnag. She got her abilities back when we defeated the monster. Same with Honor in Elloweer."
"I don't know what you think you saw," Hunter said, sounding a little agitated. "But they're tricking you."
"If you're my brother, listen to me," I said. "The Pemberton sisters are all alive and powerless. We have to help them get their powers back and overthrow the High King."
Hunter rubbed his temples as if getting a headache. "The lies of the Unseen get weirder and weirder."
"Hunter, I'm positive. I was there. If you're my brother, act like it and believe me a little! At least check it out. Owandell used shapecraft to help Stafford steal his own daughters' powers and fake their deaths."
Hunter folded his arms and smiled grimly. "There's no way you're right about the daughters."
"How do you not know this?" I asked. "I thought you were high up in the Enforcers?"
"I am."
"Aren't you supposed to be good at digging up secrets?"
"My specialty is tracking people down."
"Well, go find this out. The High King is a bad man. He made the laws that got both of us taken as slaves, along with a bunch of other kids from our neighborhood. He betrayed his own daughters in a big way. And obviously he lies to the slaves who work for him."
Hunter put his hands on his hips. "Listen, Kendal. You can't imagine how excited I am to see you. I mean I've been looking for you for months. I want to prove I'm your brother. Most of what you told me has to be Unseen propaganda, but I'll look into it. In return, knowing what you now know, I want you to use a thruport, get on the Internet, and confirm that I'm your brother."
"That might be hard while I'm bound to a table," I said.
"If you promise to behave, I'll free you."
"Promise you'll look into Owandell and the High King?"
"To really do this, I might have to go to Junction. But yeah, I'll check it out."
"Then I'll behave. But hurry. There's stuff I need to do." I said, thinking of Jace.
"What if I bring proof that these are lies?"
I thought about that. "It would have to be really solid proof. I've seen a lot of firsthand evidence that this is true."
"Maybe you only think you've seen proof. I've been here a lot longer than you, Kendal. You might be deceived and confused."
I shrugged. "If you're right, I'll come to your side.
But if I'm right, you better come to mine."
"Fair enough. Deal."
"Does this mean you'll finally give me that water?"
Hunter glanced at the glass on the counter. "I'll do even better than that. I'll free your hands so you can drink it."