Intuition

Doom.

Impending doom.

That’s what Luke had been feeling all morning long. He hadn’t had a vision yet, and he couldn’t shake the feeling. It was making him twitchy.

He always felt off before a vision, but it had never been this sharp, this all-consuming, this distracting. Usually he had a slight sense of everything intensifying. It would wash over him, all his senses suddenly heightened, as if a veil had been lifted to reveal what’s truly there. His vision was more focused, his hearing more sensitive, more precise. He was more aware of everything he touched—the feel of the chair he sat in or the ground under his feet, how the wind slid across his skin. Smells became more dimensional, more distinct.

He and Sera half-jokingly called this intensity of his senses impending doom because his visions were almost always about something bad. But the term didn’t only refer to the imminent event—it was also about Luke, that he was doomed to failure. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop anything from happening. Which drove him nuts.

And today, he’d woken up with this feeling so strong, this impending doom, and had fully expected a vision to take him right away.

But it hadn’t.

He’d waited, laying still for as long as he could, but then he’d had to get up, had to move. He’d had to see, hear, smell, and feel the world with his magnified senses.

He adjusted the strap on his backpack so it wasn’t cutting into his shoulder. Their hike up the mountain today was just what he needed. Clear his head, take the edge off.

But even as he stood in the parking lot at the bottom of the trail, he still couldn’t help wonder what it meant, why it was taking so long for the vision to come. And wonder if this time the impending doom was going to more fully live up to its name.

His intuition was telling him something was coming. He just didn’t know what.

Luke shook his head, shook off his thoughts, focused on where he was, what he was doing. Maybe this enhanced awareness was just a new aspect of his gift, rather than an omen. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to worry about it. At least, that’s what he told himself.

It was a perfect morning—bright, clear, and cool. Just the way he liked it. If not for the feeling of impending doom, he’d be completely stoked. Even so, it was good to be on a mountain with his sister. He tugged the zipper of his navy fleece jacket down halfway and looked at Sera as she climbed out of their car.

This was a favorite escape for them, particularly in the fall. By the very beginning of October, Vermont was in full color-spectrum splendor, and there wasn’t a better place in the state to take it all in than the top of Mt. Mansfield. It was becoming tradition for he and Sera, this hike. Just the two of them. They could let down their guards, not worry about having to hide their abilities from everyone else. It was a relief—Luke could already feel himself relaxing into the day, and it had barely begun.

His grin just got wider at the thought.

“What?” Sera said. Her brow furrowed like she thought his smile might be laced with teasing, and she glanced down at her clothes. That almost made him laugh.

“Just glad to be here. Nothing like fall.”

Sera looked at him for a minute and her face broke into a matching grin. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” she said. “Let’s go.”

The first part of the three-mile hike to the top was a mile-long access road with a gentle grade. Luke breathed in the early morning autumn air. It smelled like a forest—dirt, damp, and green. Within those smells he could detect all the distinct scents of the inhabitants of the surrounding wilderness—plant and animal. It was an exhilarating rush experiencing the world like this, all his senses abuzz.