Sons of the Earth

Southern coastline of British Columbia, February 8th, 2020 0900

     Joel rematerialized again, cradling the boy's body in his arms. Still unconscious. The boy was limp as a broken toy, one arm across his chest, the other dangling. His head rested on Joel's shoulder while his legs hung over Joel's arm. Joel clutched the boy to his chest as tightly as he dared. His stomach churned, sickened by what he'd done. He'd attacked a high school kid, a boy about the same age as his nephew Terry, whose grave he'd just been visiting. This boy bore no resemblance to his adoptive sister's son. He appeared to be around sixteen, healthy yet scrawny, with the gangly limbs of a young man in the middle of a growth spurt. His smooth face bore only the barest stubble of a scant beard. The boy was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a quilted jacket. If he hadn't known better, Joel might have thought he was just a kid out for a stroll in the wrong place at the wrong time. The phone in his coat pocket was typical for someone his age. The elaborate sword he'd been carrying had been odd, the blade coated with some glow-in-the-dark substance. Still, it wasn't that noteworthy if the boy was a role player. But the tablet in the sling pack had been troubling. Joel glanced at it and saw his own face. Bad enough the boy had been distracting him in the cemetery before he'd been attacked again. This was even more proof. Whoever the mysterious boy was, he was somehow connected to NARD. Even so, Joel couldn't help but see Terry's face when he looked at the boy, perfectly dry as he was despite having just traveled through the ocean. Sometimes, his mysterious powers came in handy.

     Joel shuddered. Today, he'd once again flat-out murdered people. Now, he'd added kidnapping to his resume. Glaciers would return before he got out of prison at this rate. Even so, despite all the crimes he had committed, hurting this boy was the one he regretted the most. Worse, he'd hurt the boy twice. He still couldn't believe that he'd panicked and lashed out the way he had, with the boy nearby. At the time, Joel had been so terrified at the thought of being taken again, tortured the way he'd been, that he hadn't even stopped to think. When he'd finally escaped, Joel had made himself a vow that he'd die before he let NARD or the Foundation take him prisoner again. His unusually fast healing had removed the marks of the tubes he'd had shoved into his body, but nothing could remove the memories. The drugs. The restraints. Uncaring hands holding him down while sharp needles and blades dug into his flesh. He'd lost track of how many samples had been taken from him. He'd had his blood drained to the point where he'd fainted. Over and over, he'd fought back, only to be forced back down again. No. He would never go back. But as soon as he'd realized the boy was still alive, Joel hadn't hesitated to take him. Now, he'd make sure this boy was safe, too.

     At first, everything seemed to be going well. Joel scooped the largely unconscious boy up and carried him into what Joel thought of as the other-water. The short, slender boy was no real burden to Joel at all. Even moving as quickly as he could move as part of the water hadn't been difficult. They'd been making good time. Joel had even started to plan his next steps. But then, the boy unexpectedly started struggling while they were still in the other-water, deep beneath the ocean's surface. In his haste to restrain him and calm the boy, Joel had inadvertently quashed something. He'd sensed power building and instinctively reacted to lock that power down. The result was that the boy seemed to convulse before lapsing into unconsciousness. If Joel hadn't hated himself before, he certainly did now. He despised everything about his power, but nothing more than how easy it was for him to hurt people. Ironic. All his life, all he'd wanted to do was help others. Yet he was capable of drying flesh until it cracked with barely a thought, and by now, he'd lost track of how many people he'd killed.

     What could he do? Joel desperately wanted to take the boy to the hospital, but if he did, they'd both end up right back in NARD's clutches. No. Even though his medical training was limited to CPR and basic first aid, Joel still firmly believed that the boy would be safer with him than back with NARD. Now, he again checked the boy's pulse and breathing. Both were steady. Despite being unconscious, the boy didn't seem to be injured. Joel prayed that was the case. He'd already done what he could to make sure they wouldn't be tracked. Joel had no idea what, exactly, had happened, what the source of that power was.