I keep myself as heavy as possible, because that's the only thing I can do.
The Soldiers continue to pull me along with them, my body like dead weight on the stretcher, heading for the one place they put all the dead Freaks. I seem to weigh nothing to them, like they've had to do this a thousand times before with the others. They probably have. I'm sure I know where they are taking me.
I'm supposed to be dead.
They're taking me away to make sure of that.
Instead of letting the rope around my neck strangle me to death, the Freak mixed into the crowd, staying inside my head as he saved me from my execution. Why would he save me? That's what I can't seem to pinpoint.
"That's another one taken care of," one of the Soldiers say to the other, laughing lightly like this is some big joke only they understand. "Only fifty-four left."
That's interesting. I didn't realize there were so many Freaks left in the prison. I was never allowed outside of my cell until I turned eighteen, so I guess I understand why the number surprises me. It doesn't make my anger dissipate, though. I see spots of red in my eyes even behind this dark material.
"As soon as we dispose of this waste," the other Soldier says, shaking the stretcher slightly to emphasise his point, my body moving with it, "then we can hurry and wait for the next Freak to turn eighteen."
The other Soldier hums deep in his throat but they don't say anything else to each other and I try so hard not to move, not to fire back a retort or something that would really get me killed should they hear me.
As soon as the Soldier opens the door to the next room, I feel the heat intensely, like the flames are already licking at my body and head.
Then I really start to panic.
"Hurry up and throw him in there," the first Soldier says, his voice quiet over the roaring of the incinerator. "I'm dying in this heat."
As they pull me further into the room, the only thing I seem to notice is that they don't take my restraints off my wrists. Maybe the Soldiers have too many of these stupid things to spare. They don't have to worry about them being burned up. But regardless, it would be nice to take them off, to use my own powers against them and run.
One of the Soldiers yanks the sack off my head, pulling some of my hair in the process. My heart pounds and pounds against my chest and I try not to breathe too heavily or look to be in pain but I feel myself failing and I exhale by accident and—
"What the—?" a Soldier says.
I force myself to stop breathing.
"Did you see him move?" the other replies.
"Did you hear him breathe?"
I am so dead.
"Check his pulse," the first Soldier snaps at the other. I feel one of them come closer and closer to me, his body heat making me uncomfortable as he steps even closer. Then he presses his finger under my chin, and—
"Oh my God," he says quickly, his voice rising with each word. "He's—!"
His sentence is cut short and all I hear is a quick whoosh as the fire gets hotter and I suddenly smell burning flesh all around me, and the only thing I can think of is, what just happened?
I want to snap my eyes open but I don't because the other Soldier might still think I'm actually dead.
"Hey, stop!" the remaining Solider shouts over the roaring, and I hear gun shots being fired at somewhere I can't see—once, twice—and then I hear the many bullets hit the ceiling, parts of the roof crumbling down onto the ground and covering us in thick dust that gets stuck in my throat.
It's only then that I open my eyes.
And I happen to do it at the right moment as the other Soldier swims past my clouded vision, hovering a few feet above the ground, and straight into the incinerator. I know he's dead when I smell the burning flesh again, when I see and feel the flames shoot from the opening, slowly dying back down a second later as his body becomes nothing.
I hear footsteps shuffle into the room and I sit up, staring blankly at the two figures who are coming down the four steps to meet me here on the floor, still on the stretcher. So there are two Freaks, not just one. The boy wasn't the same as—
"Are you hurt?" the male says, crouching down to where I'm sitting. He's the voice that was in my head.
"It's you," is all I can say back to him, staring into his half-hidden eyes with the hood over his head.
"Yes," he replies carefully. "I'm the voice inside your head." Then, without a warning, he doesn't open his mouth—he just says, And we're here to get you out, inside my mind.
"You really are a Freak," I say quietly, almost not believing it.
"In the flesh."
I don't have time to say anything else as a quick force lifts me off from the stretcher, onto my feet in seconds.
"We don't have time for this," a girl says from just next to the boy, lowering her hand that she used to get me up from the ground. "Let's go."
As we start to head back up the stairs, I notice that these two are wearing the same thing, with large hoods to cover their faces from the view of everyone when they were in the crowd.
I still can't wrap my head around the fact that two Freaks are here with me now. The other ones I knew were always at an arm's length away from me in the cells. We were forbidden to speak to them, to interact with them in any way. But now there are two with me. Two of them came to save me.
Why would they risk their lives to save mine, though?
The boy takes the backpack off his shoulders and pulls out something that looks similar to what they are wearing. He shoves it at me and I slip it on before he has a chance to say anything. It's massive on me, too long on the arms and almost hitting my knees.
But I pull the hood over my head anyway.
And follow behind them.
* * *
Our feet pound against the rain-soaked floor as we run out of the dark prison.
Despite the hood covering our heads, the rain continues to pelt our faces. The footsteps we leave behind almost disappear as soon as the water mixes with the wet mud, but we don't turn around to see as we continue onwards, leaving the prison at our backs, hopefully forever.
The hood flies off my head but I make no move to shove it back on; instead I continue forward, letting the rain soak up my already-wet hair and seep down my neck. It's difficult to run with the cuffs still around my wrists, but I ignore the discomfort, eager to get as far away from the prison as possible.
Move faster, I hear the boy in front of me say in my head, and I do as he says, the ache I suddenly feel in my legs getting worse.
I hear distant shouting coming from the prison, along with the faint blare of an alarm, but I ignore it as I quicken my pace, staying on the boy's heel. I dodge the large dilapidated buildings and weave through the throng of broken vehicles no longer in use. The rain, dust and ash cover everything, making the buildings around us darker and somehow scarier than how I remembered them.
But it's been like this since I became a Freak.
Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand shoots out in front of the girl from the alleyway beside us, and it grabs hold of her upper arm. The boy that was in my head grabs a fistful of my shirt and pulls me closer to him and the girl, pressing us together uncomfortably tight.
I touch this new figure's skin.
And the world around me drops away.
It only lasts a second and the next time I open my eyes, the rain has stopped and everything around me is dry and different and I think I must be dreaming because my head feels strange and my body feels lighter than normal. I'm inside. My mind actually feels like it has vanished from my body, but then I see all the others that were with me a moment ago outside, and I know I'm not dreaming, because they too are all still wet, the rain dripping onto the faded tiles below our feet.
"Come on," the boy says to me, almost snapping the words at me as he releases the front of my shirt and continues forward, his footsteps echoing in the expansive space. He slaps me on the back once and pushes me forward, keeping me at the same pace as him, even when my legs protest from the movement.
The other man, the teleporter, stands next to the girl as they walk ahead of us, then around a small corner and they're gone from view.
The boy and I turn the same corner a moment later, the breath leaving my lungs as soon as I see what's there, waiting for us.
People. Everywhere. Some are sat at different tables, playing card games and laughing, while at another table they are arm wrestling, a small group of people crowded behind one, and another crowded behind the other. They shout names that are too loud for me to understand, raising their fists in the air and cheering for one to win.
They are Freaks.
The teleporter goes off to somewhere I can't see, leaving the girl as she continues walking forward, towards a dimly-lit tunnel at the bottom of some stairs. The boy and I follow her, but I keep my eyes locked on the Freaks in the larger room before the tunnel cuts off my view. I turn around to face the front again at what's in front of me, a vague memory springing to mind, like I recognize them from a dream or when I was a child, but for the life of me I cannot remember what they are.
"These are trains," the boy says after he sees the expression on my face. "They're all over the place, stuck on the tracks and blocking the tunnels. They don't work anymore."
I walk up to the large vehicle cautiously, the palm of my hand touching the cool but worn exterior. I peer around the open door of the train and catch sight of multiple bedrolls, pillows and a few other personal belongings scattered around the floor and on top of the benches. It seems like people live in here.
When I push away from the train, I notice the boy staring at me with his arms crossed over his chest. "Not what you were expecting?" he asks, head tilting to the side as he considers my expression.
I simply shake my head as I continue to look around.
To my left and right is a large platform that ends at a wall on either side of the room. I see the girl open a door on the wall behind us, just opposite the train, and slips inside. I stare at the ∑ scratched onto the door before I pass through the frame. The bright lights in this room feel like they're burning my eyes when the boy closes the door behind him, making sure it clicks before moving away, farther into the room.
The boy slumps into a chair at a table in the centre of the space, indicating for me to sit on the seat opposite him. As I head for the seat, I notice the girl is not in here. She must be in the doorway just ahead of me. I can hear some noise coming from there. It sounds high-pitched but not; it sounds aggressive but not—almost like it will explode. What the hell is she doing in there?
The boy presses his hands against the table and continues to stare at me, keeping his eyes on my face until I finally will myself to look at him. I think I should smile but think better of it; this boy doesn't look like the type to dole out smiles to anyone. Instead, I look at something beyond his head, hearing him laugh lightly.
"So, you got a name, green eyes?" he suddenly asks, his voice sounding different out loud than inside my head.
I look at him again, swallowing once before speaking. "I'm Luca."
"Luca..." He says my name slowly, like he can't understand why I'm called that.
"That's right." I raise my eyebrows. "And you are?"
He presses his wet hand against the table, palm facing the side. "Nox," is all he says. "A pleasure." His tone doesn't hold the sincerity of the word.
"Nox..." I repeat his name myself, suddenly remembering what I had learnt many years ago. "As in the Latin word for night?"
"As in obnoxious," the girl says as she comes into the room, leaning her hand on the boy's shoulder. Her hood is down and so is her dark hair, cascading down her shoulders in long, loose waves. I never realized the colour of her hair before. Or even the warm, light brown colour of her skin.
Nox turns to face the dark-haired girl. "You are hilarious." He shakes his head but he is still smiling at her. "You're being funny for once."
The girl smiles back and presses her finger hard into his cheek, making his head move to the side. Nox winces as he turns back to face her, giving her a view of his middle finger.
I almost laugh at these two, but I keep my face impassive, looking away from them, focusing on the weird dead plant they placed in the corner of the room.
"Don't mind my sister," Nox says when I turn back to look at them, but he is still glaring at her. He turns back to look at me, a wicked smile on his lips. "She can be a bit of a psychopath sometimes."
The girl—Nox's sister—crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. "Are you looking to get a black eye, Nox?" she asks. "If so, keep talking."
Now that Nox mentions it, they both do look similar: the same light brown skin and dark eyes. They even have the same shaped nose. But that's where their similarities end. While Nox has hollowed out cheeks and a square jaw, his sister has a smoother face, almost triangular. It's hard to tell, since her hair is obscuring it from me.
I snap my eyes back to Nox when I realize I've been staring for too long.
"Why did you bring me here?" I snap, interrupting their small conversation as I urge my voice to sound calmer, to sound nicer, but even that's failing me.
Nox turns his eyes to mine, his face losing the glare and the angry spark in his eyes from talking with the girl. "You're like us, Luca," he says simply. "You're a Freak."
"And you brought me here for... what reason? To hide in here with you all?"
Nox frowns at me and turns to look at his sister, exchanging a strange look before settling on me again. "Yes and no. But also for a couple of reasons, really," he says slowly. "First of all: because you were going to get executed for absolutely nothing."
"And the other reason?" I urge.
"We cannot tell you yet, Luca." He pauses. "At least, not until our leader gets back."
"When is your leader getting back, then?"
He smiles this time, like he can sense my frustration. "Tomorrow."
I sigh out of frustration, leaning back against the chair as I rake my hand down the length of my face, catching a small pool of rainwater still there. I shake off the liquid, watching it land onto the table. I ignore Nox's angry look as he stares down at the water staining the wood.
"What's with the hostility, Luca?" he snaps suddenly, the words harsh as they're hissed through gritted teeth. "We just saved you from death. The least you could do is thank us."
I breathe out a sigh as quietly as I can, staring into his dark eyes that are still burning bright with anger. The girl next to him looks calmer, but there's something in her gaze that I can't pinpoint as she searches around my face, seemingly looking for something.
"Thank you," I eventually say to them both, my eyes sliding back over to Nox. "And, in case you suddenly forgot, I just met you guys. How do you expect me to behave?"
He shakes his head slowly, his anger slowly dissipating. "Not like this, Luca." His eyes find the girl before coming back to me. "And there's a way to change that, I guess. Why don't you tell us a bit about yourself?"
Hundreds of stories and memories threaten to spill out of my mouth at once, some about my childhood, the others about what they did to me back at the prison. But nothing like that comes out. I push them all back down and lock them up tight as I say, "I just spent two years in a prison being treated like crap. I'd really rather not talk about it."
Nox seems taken aback slightly, like he really wanted to know my story, but he doesn't pry. "Fair enough," is all he says.
The girl behind Nox gives me a small smile before heading for the door on the other side of the room, then comes back a moment later with two steaming mugs in her hands. She sets one down in front me and one in front of Nox.
"Thank you," I say to her, suddenly realizing what that noise was in that room as I catch her eye and nod once. She smiles back and goes to stand behind Nox again, keeping her hand pressed firmly against the back of his chair.
I watch as Nox takes a large gulp of the hot drink, drips of rainwater dropping off his chin and hand when he raises his mug too high.
With the cuffs still around my wrists, it's hard for me to handle the mug, but I take my own sip of the drink anyway, looking at the table over the mug. "So where am I exactly?" I ask when I place the drink back down, licking the amazing beverage off my lips.
"You are home, Luca," is all Nox says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
The girl behind him rolls her eyes when she sees the expression on my face. "We are in what was formally known as the London Underground," she begins, pulling out a chair from the table and sitting down opposite me. "We now call this place the Ghetto. We live here because it takes us off the radar from those above. The Soldiers." She pauses a moment to look up at the ceiling. "From above, there is no way into the Ghetto. When everything was destroyed, it also destroyed all the entrances as well. No way in, no way out."
"So that guy that we met outside...?" I ask, pondering aloud.
She nods. "He teleported us here."
I pause a moment, staring at her. "I'm sorry," I say after a while, "I didn't ask for your name."
Her smile is small as she offers me her hand. "I'm Serena."
"It's nice to meet you, Serena."
"So what abilities do you have currently?" Nox asks, leaning his chin on his palm as he changes the subject drastically.
"Nox," Serena warns, nudging him with her elbow.
"Excuse me?" I turn to look at him.
"Abilities," he says again, ignoring his sister as his head tilts, eyes shifting to my hands. "How many do you have?"
I lean forward so suddenly it makes Serena reel backwards, but Nox stays there, watching me intently. "How do you know about my multiple abilities?" I snap, staring at him, then her. "How?"
"Everyone knows about them," Nox says slowly, carefully. "You're almost a legend around here, except"—he looks me up and down—"you're not."
My hands ball into fists, ready to strike, when suddenly Serena glares down at her brother. "Nox," she warns once more, in a tone that makes me reel backwards. She slowly looks over at me, her expression turning kinder. "We only ask because we have never met a person like you, Luca. We've never seen a Freak with the ability to absorb other powers."
"How do you do it?" Nox asks, and I divert my attention onto him, my anger still fresh. "How do you take a Freak's ability?"
I slowly look down at the table, deflating since the conversation won't change. "I don't know," I say honestly, my shoulders lifting into a shrug. "I just... take them. Simple as that."
"Do you have our abilities?" Serena asks.
"That depends." I glance over at her. "What abilities do you have?"
"I can put thoughts into people's heads," Nox says, almost proudly. "It makes people crazy and I love it."
I don't respond, wondering what's wrong with him as I look over at Serena.
"I have telekinesis," she says, turning the palm of her hand to the side, letting Nox's mug travels across my vision towards her open hand, clasping her fingers over the handle.
"Impressive," I mumble, watching as she takes a sip from his drink with a small smile on her lips. Nox glares at her as he takes the mug back from her hand, setting it down on the table with his fingers wrapped around it.
Serena folds her arms on the table and pulls them closer to her chest, slowly shrugging her shoulders at me. "My ability is very common."
"But that doesn't make you any less special," I say back without thinking, watching as she looks up at me, no words passed between us for a few seconds. Her eyes search around my face until a small smile pulls at her lips.
"I guess you're right," she agrees quietly.
I can almost feel the glare coming from Nox as he stares at me, so I turn my head away and look at nothing instead. "So to answer your question," I say, glancing over at Serena. "I have yours, Serena, but I don't have yours." I finally point to Nox.
"So why haven't you got my power yet?" Nox asks.
I brandish my wrists at him, making sure he can see the restraints clearly. "These stop me from using my abilities." I glance over at the two in turn. "When those above found me, they put these on straight away. I didn't have a choice. They've been on ever since."
"That's interesting..." Serena pulls my hand towards her, running her thumbs along the surface of the metal band. She turns to look at Nox, her eyebrows furrowed as she maintains the grip on my arms. "Do you think Winston can manipulate these? Change them into something else, maybe?"
"It's possible," Nox says, reaching forward to touch the band for himself. He looks up at Serena again, eyebrows raised like a question is hanging between them.
Then Serena nods down at Nox and they both look back at me, identical smiles on their faces.
But it's Nox who speaks up next. He says, "I think it's time for you to meet some of the others."