The Link 2 - The Hunted

Chapter 1 - Teegan

I am human, mostly. At least, that's what I've been told. I don't always feel human. Then again, what high schooler does? My friend Samantha tells me she doesn't feel normal either, and she came into the world the old-fashioned way. Maybe I would feel more normal if I had a date for the prom.

Old Town, Maine is where I've lived most of my life. I don't remember my early childhood, which I'm told was fairly exciting. My mom tells me I was a happy baby, and Dad fondly calls me Stinky from time to time. Not sure how that's supposed to make me feel. Mom always scolds him and forgives him in the same breath.

I was born with a gift, or so they call it. Uncle Hank calls it my power. I've never given it a name and usually find it more of a nuisance. It circulates in my mind, hemmed in by barriers I have built so that it doesn't leach out at the simplest touch. Consciously, I can keep it stable and inside. Others find it amazing, though I have yet to see any great benefits. I guess it's like being a rock star. You play all that wonderful music, but barely hear it yourself because the amplifiers have ruined your ears.

The world is filled with music only I can hear. It's not really a sound as the ears know it, more a bombardment of waves that moves into and through me. I know them to be people, but the din is overwhelming and useless. I've learned to filter it out of my life, ignoring what I don't understand and letting it pass untouched, or unthought of. Some of the rhythms I know well and don't ignore, though I can if I choose.

My younger brother Zane thinks it's a power. Of course, he thinks Uncle Hank is always right about everything. I'm sure it has something to do with the gifts Uncle Hank brings during his visits. I bonded with Zane when he was still in my mother's womb. My dad told me it was the most amazing thing he had ever felt, but of course, I was too young to remember. I keep wondering if I peaked at a year-old and it's all downhill from there.

Bonding is a lot like recognizing a voice. In the midst of the cacophony, I can find those I know well. The better I know them, the easier they are to find and the harder they are to block. Everyone has their unique set of rhythms. By touching someone new, I can, if I choose, synchronize my music with theirs. The waves are more pronounced when I touch, allowing me to easily separate them from the noise. Uncle Hank thinks touching increases the resonance. I just know it allows me to single them out from a world of noise.

I don't synchronize with others. My family are the voices I know best and I prefer to keep it that way. Mom requires a shift in style, more of a twangy country beat. Zane's music is quicker with a slight staccato pattern. Dad hardly takes any effort. Our emanations are nearly the same, bonding with him is as easy as breathing. He's like a cozy blanket over my mind when we flow together. It's like I was designed for him. Designed is a good word for what I am.

"Come on, Teegs," Zane begged, "Mom said I can go if you drive me." Zane had shortened my name from Teegan to Teegs when he was two. I hated that some of my friends had latched onto it as well. Zane had friends he wanted to meet at the mall in Bangor. Of course, that meant I would have to hang out until he was done. I would have said no, but I could feel how much he wanted it. No matter what barriers I build, my family could always leak through when I lost concentration. Truly a nuisance.

"You'll owe me," I said. I might as well have given him a million dollars. His joy surged into me. Okay, it wasn't all a nuisance. I could probably parley that joy into him doing some of my chores. I watched his blond hair bouncing as he ran upstairs to get ready. It was a strange cut, buzzed short around his ears and neck, but longer at the top so that it could be parted down the middle.

"Someone must have said yes," my Mom said as she rounded the corner from the kitchen. She always worked from home when we had a holiday from school. Not that we needed an adult, it was just a habit that she had continued from when we were younger.