The Silentless

Chapter 9

"So you're telling me that all of you," she gestured around the room at the blurry purple figures that she could vaguely see moving through her grogginess. "Have 'powers' and have been recruited by this dodgy group to fight? Fight what?"

"Umm. I'm not really sure."

Crossing her arms she raised her eyebrows. "I'm not buying it."

"It's true." The calming voice of James cut through her annoyance.

"Prove it." She said coldly. Watching unimpressed as they whispered quietly among themselves. Eventually, Simon sighed impatiently but stood up.

The concentration was obvious on his face. His eyes were closed. Anticipating. Visibly, particles came off his body. Becoming a mist that made its way to the floor. It started to form a four legged creature.

Slowly the exchange between human and fox was complete. A painful sensation that he had got used to from the demand of skinners- people who could hunt, track and sleep outside. Saving space and food.

The fox trod carefully. He hadn't been in this space before. But the familiar scent of his mate was near; he calmed down. Looking around with ears up listening for humans.

Tatty was astonished. Witnessing her best friend turn into an animal, one that was currently nuzzling James which was making her incredibly uncomfortable, was the widest thing that had happened to her so far. But it explained the tattoo. They were both Simon, in different forms.

That made her wonder if she could do that. Her wings were in her skin, able to become physical. Shouldn't it stand to reason that she could become a fox too?

She was broken from her train of thought by Simon's hysterical yips. She grimaced as James snuggled into the coarse orange fur.

"Can you please not?" Disgust laced her voice. She hated seeing the love that other people felt. Because she didn't have the capacity to feel like that.

"Sorry." Simon had turned back into his human form and had the decency to look embarrassed by his display. James' expression was annoyed and a bit offended, though. But Tatty didn't seem to notice.

"So why don't you just escape?" She was turning heads now. Even the people who were tactfully ignoring the three younger kids on the floor looked up sharply. "You could run. Get away from here - you're wasting your time doing  . . . whatever you do."

Simon looked puzzled, pondering Tatty's suggestion.

"We help," James said firmly.

"Help with what?" She asked exasperatedly. "Why can't you just leave?"

"Tatty we can't talk here! Please, can we go somewhere safe?" She glared at James but nodded. They walked through the numerous halls and corridors that made up the warehouse she was in. Positive that this building must be close to the one she had spent the last four years, a plan of action was forming in her mind.

Over the years she had narrowed down where they could be into a few cities. Based on the number of people who were from London or the surrounding area she had decided that they were in an industrial part of a local city. Now she had the ability to escape and could out run (or out fly) anyone who tried to stop her.

She could fight. They all knew that. Even without her precious katanas.

Doubtfully she surveyed the people they passed. Running her hand through her hair, which seemed to take longer than usual, she grinned. She could take them.

Eventually, they arrived in a room. The scent of James and Simon wafted out into the corridor. Heightened scenes had their advantages. She had an animal's hearing and sight she figured when she was in the hall. Every single thing that was said she could hear.

Gratefully she placed a hand on the aching tattoo. Her hand came away sticky with congealing blood but she didn't care.

Inside the room was typical; a messy double bed with thin sheets and pillows, clothes were scattered around the room (Simon's) and against the furthest wall were neatly folded piles of purple (James'). The walls were bricks of hard stone and an effort had been made to cover them up with blankets, tarpaulin and stained dust sheets.

There was no decoration apart from a picture hanging in between two grey hospital issue blankets. It was without a frame but the edges weren't curled. With a closer look, Tatty realised it was a picture of her. From before. A happy innocent child smiling at the camera. Half of the picture had been neatly ripped out. All that was left of the person who had been next to her was an arm snaked around her neck. Poppy.

She remembered the day that she had given that to Simon when he was sick and definitely about to leave - it was the only thing she had been able to take with her when she was kidnapped. It seemed fitting to give her only possession to the only person who understood her and what she had been through. Then he left her and took the photo with him.

Her eyes glossed over at the tear. Her hands ran down the rough edge. It symbolised how separate she was from her family. Her cousin. Mother. Sister . . . Father.

"Tatty? Are you ok?" She jumped at the cold hand on her shoulder.

Quickly wiping away the few tears that had left a streak of clean skin on her grimy face. "I'm good."

Turning around she saw her two best friends sitting on the bed, watching her worriedly. Faking a smile she went and sat down in between the two and lay down. Looking at the cracked messy plaster job.

"What do you do then? What's your power?" Absently she started fiddling with a long strand of hair that fell into James' eyes.

"I'm a teleporter." He replied looking her in the eyes.

"And?" Tatty pressed.

"I -," he couldn't look into those eyes and tell her his greatest regret. Sensing his mate was conflicted and scared Simon answered for him.

"He helps with extraction. Taking the group to different locations Adi senses."

She was sitting up now, incredulous with anger. "You take people?" Her voice laced with betrayal.

"No, I get the people who do to the right place." He was defending himself, arguing his case. She couldn't believe it.

"You help with the thing you know ruined my life and Simon's."

"Well-" Simon tried to protest but Tatty cut across him.

"You took people away from their families, their homes, their friends."

"No," James said angrily. "You and Simon were the exceptions, the only ones to be taken from a place they were loved. And even then he was only taken because he was vaguely connected to you."

"What, how?" They were both shouting now.

"Your aunt had a child with a man named George Fletcher, Simon's father. Every other member of The Silentless was taken from the streets or a foster home. Somewhere no one would miss them."

"But why me?" Voice cracking she asked the question that was always at the back of her mind.

"I don't know." He answered.

So overwhelmed with emotion her wings came out, flooding her with another wave of adrenaline that calmed her nerves with its familiar hold but made her angrier.

"Either you go or I do." She told him calmly not blinking even when his eyes flickered to her translucent appendages.

Slowly he got up. Gathering a few items of clothing from the pile and leaving without another word. Knowing that Simon had only just completed his little family, he couldn't take that away from him. A fox always finds his mate.

Triumphantly she turned to a melancholy Simon still looking at the doorway hoping his boyfriend would come back in.

But he didn't.

"So, what were you saying about escaping?" It seemed his mouth was moving of its own accord. Asking the self - sentencing question.