“Lehen?”
No response.
“Lehen, its Trea.”
Still no response.
I hear the front door open and shuffling steps heading in my direction as a light turns on in the hallway outside my chamber.
Rabaan unlocks my cell door, allowing the old man from earlier to enter. He wears a ragged brown suit and tie, and is still clutching his brown leather book in his right hand.
“Trea,” he says to me, getting really close to my face, “I’m Parson Mathan. Rabaan, would you mind releasing this young woman from her binds?”
Rabaan unlocks my chains, removing them from my aching body. I rub my wrists and then my head as the pain has increased again. Parson Mathan takes my hand and escorts me to a chair where I’m made to sit down.
“Let’s see it,” he says, more to Rabaan than me.
Rabaan walks over and pulls up my right sleeve, revealing the Quantum Stream. Parson Mathan’s eyes grow large at the sight. Rabaan forces my hand palm side up to show the port marks.
“Interesting,” the Parson says. “I want to see the full extent of her powers. Quin has advised me they’re far more advanced than Lehen’s.” He calls to one of the guards and asks that the prisoner be brought inside.
“Where’s Lehen?” I ask them.
“Don’t worry, my dear, he’s in good health. You’ll see him shortly,” Parson Mathan replies.
A young man, who looks to be my age, is dragged down the hall, the tops of his feet scraping against the concrete. He’s carried by two guards who affix him to the wall using the chains I’d been held with.
“Kill him,” Parson Mathan says, pointing to the young man as the guard fastens the last lock.
The man begins to scream, thrashing his body violently. The restraints around his neck pulling tighter with every movement. Rabaan offers me a Levin gun, but I refuse to take it, so he forces it into my grip. I feel heat begin to rise in my arm. He holds my hand tightly around the grip of the gun, but I still refuse to pull the trigger.
“Fine, have it your way,” he says and lets go.
He escorts Parson Mathan out through the cell, locking the door behind them, but remains standing on the other side. I place the gun down onto a small wooden table next to the chair and walk over to the young man, who’s finally stopped screeching. He looks at me with terrified eyes as I begin to unchain him. As I bend down to release his right foot a force pulls me up off my feet and into the air. I hit the far wall hard, cracking my nose against the dusty cement block. Shaking my head free from stars, the man frees himself from the rest of his bindings.
It seems the guards hadn’t secured the man as tightly as I’d believed.
Why am I not thinking clearly? I’m being set up, but I can’t grasp on the reality around me. Is Trea messing with my mind?
I begin to scour the room for a weapon other than the gun, but I waste too much time and he’s now freed himself, charging at me. We both go down violently, smashing the table into shards. He reaches under his shirt and comes up with a knife that was hidden in his waistband. I block the blows that he swings at my face, managing to only get nicked in a few spots before I use my legs to propel him off me, but I can’t get the correct leverage. I twist my body to better my position and wind up taking the blade in the left shoulder. I cry out, but secure my feet against his stomach and push him up and backwards. He slams into the wall, knocking him out.
Looking over to the large mass on the floor, I slowly stand. His eyes begin to flutter slightly then open wide, he lunges at me again. I have little time to react as he drives the knife deep into my chest. The steel penetrates my heart. The electrical current making it pump stops. He removes the blade; blood begins to pour down my chest.
I fall to my knees. Inhalation has become very difficult, my breaths becoming shorter.
My hands reach out to the ground in front of me as I fall forward. I notice out of the corner of my eye the Levin gun as it lays just a few inches away amongst the broken shards of table. The ground before me is thickening in a pool of blood as it continues to pour from the gaping wound, my heart pumping again.
I reach cautiously for the weapon as I feel myself beginning to heal, my breathing restoring to normal. The young man thrusts himself forward, determined to finish the job. I grab the handle of the gun, firing multiple times into his upper body. He falls onto his back, dropping the knife. I stand, completely healed, and kick the knife into a corner.
I hear applause behind me as my cell door swings open. Parson Mathan’s huge grin tells me he’s satisfied with the outcome. It’s only at this moment that I realize why I’ve been set up.
The intention wasn’t to demonstrate my abilities with the Quantum Stream, but how I heal.
I’m still holding the Levin gun, but before I can take aim at the Parson, Rabaan removes it. The young man’s body is carried away by the two guards. One of Rabaan’s men enters the cell with a smaller man in bent wire-framed glasses, wearing a white coat covered in red spots, and carrying a heavy black leather bag. The man sets the bag down between his feet, reaches inside, and removes a small syringe. Rabaan grabs my arms, pinning them to my side.
“Now my dear,” the man says, as he approaches me, “this won’t hurt a bit.”
I try to shake off Rabaan by thrashing my body around, kicking around me, but his grip is surprisingly strong. The
