The Elementalists

JAMAL

   I close my eyes, and focus all of my inner being on this one task. I must become one with the blanket, or flesh-eating zombie grass will devour me in my sleep.

Or so Cooper tells me.

We'd found out his element was plants not long after we'd discovered my own. He'd tripped over his own feet, but been saved from a face-plant in dirt when a tree root grabbed him by the ankle.

"Hurry up!" Cooper yells. "We don't have much time!"

"I'm hurrying!" I yell. "This is harder than it looks, y'know!"

"Try harder!" Cooper yells.

"I'm trying harder!" I yell back. I squeeze my eyes shut, and Cooper uses a feather to tickles my nose. I sneeze and fly about ten feet up in the air, but the blanket doesn't move.

Cooper looks at his watch. "Well, you have about thirty seconds before the flesh-eating zombie grass devours you in your sleep," he says with a sigh.

"No!" I yell. "I shall never sleep!"

"I'll knock you out," Cooper offers.

"Never!" I yell, and I stick out my tongue. When I open my eyes, all I see is a blade of grass in front of my face. I scream and run away, and it follows me, growing taller with every step I take. It grows to about fifteen feet before collapsing on top of me, and I scream even louder.

"Strike three, you're out," Cooper says. He laughs and helps me to my feet. "Ready to try again? Remember, this time it's flesh-eating zombie cactus."

"No!" I yell. "Not the cactus!"

Cooper laughs. "Yep," he says, "the cactus. With thorns."

"Not thorns!" I yell. Cooper laughs and a cactus rises out of the ground. I scream and begin to run away, but a thorn pokes my side and I scream. I run over to the blanket and stand on it, but it doesn't budge.

I scream as the cactus descends upon me, waiting for the thorns to sink into my body, but no pain comes. I open my eyes and look up at the now-wilted cactus.

"What just happened?" Cooper asks, confused. "It just... died."

I tilt my head. "Maybe my awesomeness killed it," I suggest.

"I don't think—," Cooper begins, but another voice interrupts his own.

"Where is Robin Green?"

I turn towards the sound of the voice, but see no one. "Who's there?" I ask. "Show yourself!" Then I quickly add, "But don't attack! Please don't attack!"

The person laughs. The laugh sends shivers down my spine—it's dark and, well, it just sounds evil. Like the laugh of a sociopathic killer. (Sorry, John.)

"Answer my question," the voice repeats, and all of a sudden I feel a hand grip my neck. Tightly.

"What the heck!" Cooper yells. "Who are you? Who do you think you are? Let him go!"

"Answer," the voice growls, tightening the hold on my neck, "my question!"

"No!" Cooper yells. "It's none of your business! We aren't selling out our friend!" Angered, he quickly points at a nearby tree and sends it flying at the source of the voice.

I gasp as it withers away and dies immediately, right before my very own eyes.

Cooper's mouth drops open. "Oh, crap." He looks over at me and says, "This isn't good, Jamal. I think this guy's dangerous."