Gifted Ones

Chapter 5 Haven

"Will she be alright?" Someone, a girl, asks.

"Probably. We healed her concussion, but there isn't anything we can do for the pain." This second voice belongs to a man.

"That's good. About the concussion, I mean." The girl says.

"You're going to have to give her some space, Kara."

"Why?"

"She's been through a lot."

"What does that have to do with me?" The girl sounds a little bit offended.

"You can be a little bit. . . Overwhelming. Her mother died a few hours ago. She doesn't need to be pushed and prodded like a new puppy."

My mother. . . Dead. Suddenly I feel an aching sense of loss in my chest that stings like the blade of a knife. Colorado. The hotel. The gun. Her blood. I shrink away from the painful memories in favor of unconscious. Seconds later I'm back in the mind numbing void of dreams. . .

I stand beside a street lamp, the brightness surrounding me in a pale yellow glow. Everything outside the ring of light is swallowed up into an inky black void. I look around, searching for something visible. Someone clears their throat from behind me. I whirl around to see Katherine, her pale face intense. "Brandon gave me his number back when we met the first time," she says. "I'm working in the police department, so I used their files to search it. It wasn't hard having my . . . talent."

"What talent?" I ask her.

"If I could find you in two weeks, he could find you in a matter of days."

"Who could? Gabriel? Who is he?"

Katherine disappears, replaced by the form of my mother. "We left that world s long time ago, when Haven was born." She says vaguely.

"What world? Gabriel's world? Who is he? Mom, I don't understand!"

She parts her lips to speak, but inside her mouth is a raging inferno. The flames spread to her skin, making it shrivel and turn black. I try to go to her, but I am frozen in place. I close my eyes, trying to block out her helpless screams. . .

I awake thrashing and screaming. Someone is shaking my shoulder, calling my name. "Wake up! Haven! It was a dream. You're okay. Wake up!" I look up to see a pair of light blue eyes staring back at me. It's the boy from the parking lot. The one who was flying. The other boy, the one who created the Lightning, stands quietly behind him. Immediately I scramble back, rolling off the bed and landing on the floor. Briefly it registers that I'm in a bedroom with a desk, a mirror, a window, and a bookshelf on the far side of the room. Suddenly my head spins and I blink black spots out of my vision with a groan. I have a massive headache, like something is inside my head, pounding on my skull to get out. My whole head throbs.

"Haven, it's okay. We're not going to hurt you," the boy with the blue eyes tells me.

"How am I supposed to know that? People who intend to kill other people just don't come out and say it!" I snap.

The boy seems quite taken aback. "Well, I suppose not, but we won't."

There is a snort of laughter from behind him. "Matthew, I think that's her point. We could be lying to her. She doesn't know who we are. She has no reason to trust us." The dark haired boy offers me his hand. "I'm Chase. This is my brother Matthew." I stare at his hand like it's a venomous snake. The memory of the lightning that ringed his wrists will will forever be branded into my minds eye. He's right. I can't trust them. But for some reason I'm not afraid. They don't seem all that threatening.

"Who are you?" I ask. "How did you. . . Do those things you did back at the parking lot?" The memory makes me shudder with fear and pain, but I continue. "The lightning. . ."

The boys share a look. Finally Matthew says, "you truly don't know about the Gifted world?"

I shake my head. "What is that?"

Matthew turns to his brother. "I knew that Brandon and Gail went into hiding, but I thought that she would at least know about us."

"My parents?" I ask, "What did they have to do with this?"

Chase's brow furrows. "For that we'll have to start from the very beginning."

"How do I know that you'll tell me the truth?" I ask him. His mouth shifts into a half-smile. "And how would we prove that?"

"I guess you can't." An image of my mother flashes in my mind. "This may be hard to understand," she said, "but you have to trust me." I gasp slightly as my chest aches again. "I. . . I think I need to be alone, for a minute." The two boys nod and shuffle out of the room quietly, shutting the door behind them. Before Chase passes out of my sight, I see him shoot me a look of understanding. This alone makes me feel like they aren't my enemies.

As soon as the door shuts I throw myself back onto the bed and give into my sobs. I let the waves of grief wash over me as my whole body trembles. She's gone. My mom. Never coming back. This wasn't supposed to happen, not until I was at least a proper adult. My brain replays the time of her death over and over. I dissect every second leading up to it, trying to create a scenario where she could have survived. Most of them end up with me dying. I watched her be murdered by people I didn't know, and I couldn't do anything about it. And the horrible part is, I don't even know why! To make matters worse, my dad is off who knows where, possibly dead as well! This thought sends me into another fit of tears.

It takes nearly half an hour for my tears to run dry. I stare at the ceiling, not moving. I don't want to ever move again. My head aches horribly. I reach around my head to feel the gauze there. Every breath sends another pang through my skull. I wish that I could have been the one the General shot. Then I wouldn't have to live on. My problems would be over the moment she pulled the trigger. I feel tired, so tired, like I haven't slept in a week. My eyes slip closed, just to let myself rest for a minute. . .