Trace

Fourteen

Pain streaked her dreams, red against the darkness, hot against the cold. She was floating in a sea of knowledge, knowledge she shouldn't know, knowledge she didn't want to know. It was like she was slowly working through history, making her way through the endless waves of wisdom.

She saw the deaths of some of the most iconic figures in history- Einstein, Leonardo Da Vinci, Isaac Newton, Marilyn Monroe, James Cook, Mother Teresa, Nelson Mandela, Elvis Presley, Rosa Parks, Walt Disney, Barack Obama, Queen Elizabeth I and II. She saw the births of herself, her brother, her parents, the current King William, their children, everyone she'd ever known. It was disorientating because she had no time of place or time, just a sense of being.

What's going on? She thought, as she felt a tugging in her gut. Trace felt herself being pulled somewhere and soon, she could see light beneath her eyelids. She felt a warm, blast of air on her skin, a flare of pain in her leg and a cracking sensation around her head.

Slowly, she forced her eyelids open, flinching as the light pierced her eyes. She moved her mouth, tasting blood as her chapped lips cracked and bleed but heard no words, only a moaning sound. Her sight focused and she realised Glint was crouched next to her, speaking softly. She had removed her top, keeping her singlet and jeans, her red hair drying in strands around her face. Her hands were on her arm, warmth flooding from their fingertips and she smiled briefly before wincing as her leg throbbed in pain.

A blanket was over her, helping keep her warm but she shivered. What happened? She couldn't remember the details but vaguely felt a sense of cold, pain, confusion and something else. A blade in her leg. She remembered that. Someone had cut into her leg with a knife.

That explains the pain then.

"What-" Trace whispered, her voice hoarse and dry. "What happened?"

"You ran into the Barrier." M's voice said and she looked upwards to see him standing over her, a purple, woolen blanket in his hands. He'd changed appearance again, now to a black-haired, blue eyed boy, his black singlet clinging to his chest and stomach. His hair was damp and curling in the humidity. Trace wondered why it looked like they had been caught in a storm.

Her memories flooded back, replacing the dream she'd had before with every inch of detail she could remember. The rain. The mud. The army. The...Barrier. And then, the pain.

"Splinter removed your Monitor so you could be taken here." Glint said as M threw the blanket over her. "Mine was removed too."

"The what?" Trace asked, curling the blankets around her and propping herself up on one elbow, the other resting absently on the bandage wrapped around her thigh.

"Dunno." M replied, leaning over the top of the couch so his head was above hers. "They left us about an hour ago, after cleaning your leg up. Said they were going to see some people."

Trace opened her mouth to ask who they'd gone to see but M cut her off with a sharp hand gesture. "They didn't say who. They just left us with one of these." He picked a small, oblong pill up off a table and handed it to her. "I think they want you to eat it."

The pill felt weird in her hand, too smooth and too small but she placed it on her tongue all the same. The worst taste she'd ever known filled her mouth and throat; a taste like tar and burnt rubber and rotten eggs and sand. She coughed and retched but the taste stayed in her mouth.

"Oh, yeah, about that. It taste's horrible." Glint smirked knowingly, biting back a laugh. Trace glared at her as M chuckled, handing her a glass of water.

"Thanks. The taste does go away, right?"

"Um," Glint sucked her mouth. "No. Not as such."
"Great."

***

About an hour later, Trace was sitting up straight, holding a cup of hot chocolate Glint had made. She'd found it in one of the cupboards in the cabin's kitchen, among jars of non-perishables and some biscuits. Now, she was whistling while she cooked a meal of pasta and some sort of cream sauce.

For the past half hour, M and Glint had been explaining what had happened after she'd blacked out. How Splinter had removed her Monitor, how Serpent had removed Glints, how M had gone through the Barrier without experiencing anything. How they'd made the slow journey to this cabin, crossing the dead plains in the gradually gaining heat through the morning. Then, finally, how Serpent and Splinter had left them to go find some other people.

"There weren't any other cabins, as far as I could see." Glint had said, glancing out one of the small windows at the far off mountains.

"So, our guess is that they left for those mountains. It'd make sense- out of the City, the Barrier, far away, hidden from sight. Yeah, if I were a rebel, I'd set up  camp there." M had replied, tapping his fingers on the edge of the couch and jerking his head towards the horizon.

Trace sighed and lifted the hot chocolate to her lips,relishing the warm liquid flowing down her throat, easing her worry a little but doing nothing to cool her down. It was getting hotter as the day went on and the sun reached its peak. She pulled the thick blankets off her legs, feeling the relief of a sombre, cool breeze blowing through the open window. She'd removed her bandage about ten minutes ago and the slash had scabbed over but that didn't stop the breeze from cooling her.

Her leg began to tickle around her wound, like an itch she couldn't quite shake. She reached down absentmindedly and felt her fingers brush over... skin? Trace looked down at her leg and screamed.

"M! Glint! Get in here! Oh my gosh something's wrong! Guys!" Trace yelled, her eyes fixated on her leg.

Glint ran in from the kitchen, a streak of white sauce on her cheek while M charged in from outside, the front door banging  to the wall.

"What's wrong?" Glint cried.

"My leg is growing!"

"What?" M yelled, his eyes darting to her leg.

Glint followed his gaze before yelping, "What the heck?"

Trace stared at the wound. Pinkish skin was creeping across the dried blood, slowly eating away at the redness. It was a slow process but not slow enough that it couldn't be seen and, as Trace watched it, it started to speed up, gaining speed as the spreading skin closed in on each other. It didn't hurt but watching it sent her mind into a spin.

She looked away quickly, before looking back. The skin had now covered the scab and a second layer was forming over the top. This time, it went a lot faster, turning a shade of cream when the edges touched. The process repeated once more, eating away at the cream skin at such as speed, Trace almost missed it. In no time at all, her skin had returned to normal like nothing had happened. Even the few freckles on her skin had returned.

For a few minutes, it was silent. Three pairs of eyes were trained on the newly created skin. The air was so thick with confusion, you would have to slice a sword through it to cut it.

"Well," M said dryly, finally breaking the silence. "That was interesting."