Dreamer

Blindsided

Very sorry if this may be shorter than usual.... I'm super stressed about homework and stuff at the time, so I hope you guys understand

The boy got up on his elbows; face contorted in pain, and looked blearily at the oncoming group. He gave a weak sigh of relief, then took a deep breath and shouted,

“James! Over here!” He waved his hand above his head and I turned to him sharply, hissing at him to be quiet, “No, it’s okay. They… They’re with me…Us…” He managed. It occurred to me that he might be a crazy ax-murderer, and that his ‘friends’ could be mental asylum escapees.

I glanced up to find that the group was quickly approaching. I made out two teenage girls and an older boy in his late teens, as well as another guy. He was the first to reach us, and I did a double-take. The two looked exactly the same, other than their eye colour. The one who had run over had grayish-green eyes that seemed cold and emotionless.

“Dammit, Jon,” The green-eyed boy hissed, “We told you to not get yourself killed.”

John gave a weak smile,

“Not dead yet, James,” He gasped. James rolled his eyes and looked at me questioningly.

“Um… Hi…” I said awkwardly, leaning back on my heels to give the two some space. I stared in fascination as James pressed the palm of his hand against Jons bleeding abdomen, and a strange, silvery light seemed to blaze and seep through his skin. James’s face contorted while Jon’s relaxed, and the blood seemed to dry up. I could see John’s flesh binding as the wound closed, a bullet making its way to the surface. I didn’t know if I should feel sickened or amazed. Jon got up with a groan and helped James up, who seemed a lot weaker than when I had originally seen him. The rest of the group had now approached; and I stood up slowly, feeling totally under-dressed when I saw the fancy, armor-like clothing one of the girls, a tiny brunette with almond-shaped eyes, had on top of her black t-shirt. She gave me a small, hesitant smile and nudged the tall blonde next to her. A pair of stunning blue eyes quickly met mine and a pair of full lips quirked upwards into something that was more of a sneer than a welcoming grin. I nodded quickly in response; then turned my attention to the pair that demanded the most attention-the twins.

Jon was shockingly pale, a stark image of a Greco-Roman statue. His white shirt clung to his lean abdomen, the dried blood beginning to flake off the fabric. His brother wore a black shirt that clung to him more tightly, showing that he had a slightly broader physique than his grey-blue-eyed twin. James’ hair was darker than John’s soft mahogany curls; and it didn’t fall across his forehead like his brothers’ did. All that slipped out of my head when James took a knife out from a loop in his belt and began twirling it like a baton. I half-expected him to start playing the knife game or something.

“Care to introduce yourself, newbie?” He finally drawled. His accent was very clearly British; where Jons was some sort of muddled, fascinating other-accent that I hadn’t heard before, “I mean, my Welsh twin just saved your life. I think we deserve to know your name.”

So they were Welsh. I supposed Jon’s accent must have been Welsh as well. I eyed the knife warily.

“I’m Ana… Well, people call me Ana- My actual name’s Anastasia.”

“She’s on the list,” The blonde said, looking down her nose at me while speaking for the first time. I noticed that she and the other boy; who was thickly muscled, were holding hands. She caught me looking and her eyes narrowed. I frowned.

“The list? What list?” I finally managed to ask. The beefy boy spoke up, his voice a deep rumble,

“The list of people like us. Magic people with ‘abilities’ other people don’t have.” He fell silent when the blonde nudged him sharply in the side with her elbow and gave me a suspicious glance with his dark brown eyes, then glanced over his shoulder, “I think we should continue this conversation somewhere less… exposed.”

I looked up, realizing how easy it would be for one of the soldiers to jump on us from the balcony if a troop were hiding there. I noticed that the twins had begun to quietly discuss something in a foreign language I could only assume was welsh.

“You need to be blindfolded,” one said- from this distance they were indistinguishable from each other. The reluctance in his voice made me think it was Jon. I opened my mouth to argue, but was cut off when a pair of tiny, tanned hands tied a piece of rough cloth around my eyes and something sharp- a knife? - poked me between the shoulder blades.

“Get moving,” A new, softer voice hissed, shoving me forwards, “It’s a long way ‘till we get home.”