Ablaze »»DARKEST MINDS««

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY
HANGING ON
Ψ

At the sound of footsteps approaching, my head shoots up, muscles tense, abilities alert.

The horizon slowly swallows up the sun in the West, creating dark orange streaks of light that filter in through the front windows and the holes in the ceiling of the grocery store. It had been a quiet day full of endless trudging through the woods to stay out of the way of Skip-Tracers and Clancy. There's a constant inkling of trepidation at the back of my mind that fingers the loose trigger on my supernatural powers. Any small trace of danger puts me on edge, puts my powers on high alert.

Thankfully, the footsteps don't belong to a soulless bounty hunter or the bastard who turned me into a guinea pig.

"Can I keep this?" Bo asks, holding up a blue robot toy of some sort holding little plastic swords. He attempts to win me over with his puppy-dog eyes, but joke's on him; his hair blocks his begging's full power. I stand from my pile of expired packaged foods and ruffle his mop of hair, bringing it out of his face.

"Sure. What is it?"

"I don't know. I think he's a warrior." He twists the robot's arms so the swords create an x. "A warrior from the future." He stares at the toy in wonder. A smile graces my lips.

"You need a haircut, Bobo," I murmur, sweeping his hair off his forehead again. He swats my hand away and messes it back up stubbornly.

"Dane says it's cool." He dodges my hand as I reach for his hair again.

I huff and place my hands on my hips. "Of course he does. What does Marcy say?"

He looks down. Quietly, he admits, "I need to cut it."

"So it's two against one."

"Nu-uh," Bo disagrees, "Falcon likes my hair too."

At the sound of his name, the dog peeks his head around the corner of the aisle. His head tilts as he watches us. Marcy suddenly appears beside him, holding three plastic bottles.

"Freckles, heads up." Marcy tosses one of the bottles my way. Instinctively, I hold a hand up and suspend the can in midair with my Blue powers. I let it drop into my open hand and turn it over to read the label. Gatorade?

"What is this?"

"It's a sports drink," Marcy replies. She holds it closer to her face and reads the label. "It's full of electrolytes, whatever those are. All I know is that it's also full of sugar." She twists the cap on hers and takes a sip of the artificially blue drink. "It just tastes like water, basically. With a little bit of flavor."

"Cool. You think it'll help?" I study her face carefully, wanting nothing but the truth. I don't have the energy to read her mind. Ever since returning from Clancy's torture palace, I've found that it's harder every time I try to use my powers. It's like he overworked my brain's capacity all at once and it's still healing, but it's mostly just my Orange and Red that are the most physically taxing. Marcy did some reading in a book she found at the last shop we stopped at, and she found that said sugar is essential for our bodies to create energy. She thinks that might help me regain my powers' energy.

"It's worth a shot." Marcy shrugs. "And, even if it doesn't really do anything, it still tastes good."

"That's good enough, thanks." I send her a genuine smile and stick the drink into the open backpack hanging on one of my shoulders. I crouch to sit on my heels and clasp my hands in front of me as I stare at the mess of pill bottles splayed out in front of me. "You think it's worth taking these expired meds?"