Syra

Chapter 7

I wasn't sure how long I was unconscious for, but I couldn't think or focus on anything. I could barely open my eyes.

When I came to, I remembered what happened at Gram's house. I looked at my stomach and saw no wound, but someone had changed my outfit and put me in a hospital gown. I was strapped to a chair somilar to Dad's in my latest vision.

"There she is," said a deep voice from the corner of the room.

My vision was foggy and everything around me was blurry. I did recognize that voice. It was Paul.

"Which Paul am I talking to?" I asked.

"The one and only," he replied. "Most of my clones have been turned off."

"You got what you wanted. Now, where's my father?" I demanded.

"Let's just say he's currently indisposed," Paul replied.

"If you killed him, I'm gonna make you regret it," I said.

"Oh, no, he's not dead. I just wanted to get what I was after, and then you'll both be dead," he said.

"You underestimate me," I said. "I'll get out of here with my father and you'll never find us again."

"All this talk, but I don't see you doing anything to prove it," Paul said.

With my powers, I undid the straps keeping me in the chair and threw Paul against a wall. However, as soon as I took a step, I fell. My legs were weak.

"What did you do to me?" I said angrily.

"It's not what I did to you, it's what you're doing to yourself," Paul replied, struggling to get up.

I put my palms to the ground and focused all my power and strength into the destruction of the building. "What'd you do to my family?" I asked.

"I left them home. They all think you're dead," Paul replied.

"Bad idea," I said. The building started to rumble and small cracks crept along the floor. "Where's my dad?"

"You're gonna kill us all, Syra. You just made the biggest mistake of your life," Paul said.

"Where is he?" I demanded.

"Figure it out yourself," Paul said.

"You shouldn't have brought me here. You should've known you were planning your own death," I said.

"I planned on it. This is only the beginning for you, Syra," he teased. "And your father's not even in the building. I sent him to a friend. Call it a gift."

I managed to get to my feet. I left the room without another word. As soon as I stepped out the door, my head nearly exploded. The commotion of the building falling apart, the people trying to evacuate, the alarms and flashing lights. I still wasn't myself and nearly fainted from the sensory overload. I held onto the walls and followed the people who were on their way out.

After I got outside where it was quieter, I managed to regain my full senses. I hurt from the energy it took to destroy the building, but my vision was clear. I stood among the government officials who worked on the project as over a decade of work crumbled to the ground.

Paul Jordan never left the building, so I assumed he died with his work. I didn't have to worry about him anymore.

But my dad never left the building, either. I could only hope Paul was telling the truth.

I got another vision. It was exactly like my reccuring dream about Mom finding Dad on the beach in the eye of the hurricane.

Mom knelt beside Dad, who was laying still on the beach. "Patrick, come back to me. Please," she said.