Rewritten

Chapter 5: Revelations

Alteration (n.) An genetic mutation evident in approximately ten percent of the human population. Gained after the resource wars, these fall into the three categories of scrambler, rewrite and traveller. 

"So what did he look like?"

   "He was Caucasian. Dark brown hair. He had mismatched eyes -one brown and one green. About six foot tall. He sounded northern."

    John McLean nodded, then flicked over another page to continue writing. "Did he give you any other details? A name maybe? What was he wearing?"

    "He wore a cap. When I asked him what his name was he said he was called Nathan. His clothes looked pretty worn, like he'd spent time on the streets."

    John nodded again, then closed the notepad. "Thank you, Athena. We'll do everything we can to catch him."

    I echoed his movement, nodding like I agreed. Beside me on the bed, Connor squeezed my hand whilst Christie smiled at me reassuringly. I remained quiet as John packed his things to go. In the small and crowded space of my bedroom, Christie's father was tall and imposing. He wore a suit like the businessman he was known to be, but you weren't inclined to consider the businessman when the bulge of a gun on his hip was clear for the world to see. An array of knives were obvious from a belt at his waist and he carried an object that looked like a magnifying glass, but clearly wasn't. I knew from my own personal research into the hunters that it was a tracker. They were devices that enabled a hunter to see small particles in the air that were left as a residue whenever a traveller teleported. From the device, John McLean would be able to tell how far Nick had went, provided that it was a distance within a hundred miles.

    "Well he must've gone pretty far from here, because this thing isn't picking him up." John tapped the notepad against his thigh in frustration. I let out a small breath I hadn't realised I was holding, relieved that Nick had had the sense to go far away from here before he returned to wherever he'd originally been before he came into my life and messed up everything.

    When I'd first got back and headed downstairs to find dad, he'd been frantic as he spoke to Art on the phone. Lyann had been sitting on the sofa drinking tea in a futile attempt to calm down. Both had jumped up and started plying me with questions about what had just happened. Before I'd known it, Art, mum, Daniel and Connor had also been squeezed into the small apartment, swiftly followed by John and Christie McLean. I was glad that I'd at least had the insight to pack away my diaries before they got there.

    When John started questioning me on Nick, I'd purposefully changed every detail about him. I'd even told them Nick had heterochromia, which was a common physical trait of most altereds, and the reason I covered my green eye with a contact lens. Despite my lies to cover things up, I felt like a traitor as I seemingly ratted out Nick to the hunters.

    John packed his things up to leave, and I was glad to see him go. Christie followed him, but not before making me promise to call her later. "We'll find him, Fee. I swear."

    I nodded, biting back the reply I wanted to give to that. Nick had saved my life. Why was it that instead of trying to give him a medal for good work to the community, they were trying to track him down and kill him? Saving someone was hardly something that constituted as wrong.

    The door shut, leaving me and Connor. Straight away, he pulled me close. "You had me worried there. I mean, shit, Fee! You could have died."

    I leaned against his chest, letting myself finally release the tension and stress. It was only when Connor started stroking my back that I realised that I was actually shaking. "It's okay, Fee," he murmured, kissing my head. I couldn't even get worked up enough to get annoyed at him shortening my name. "You're okay."