“What was his gift?” I ask, eagerly wondering if that had something to do with the reason why my gift had no affect on him.
“He has an enhanced sense of touch. He’s able to control anyone he comes in contact with,” Alexander says shortly.
“A Controller?” Zavy asks and her eyes widen.
“What’s that mean exactly?” I ask her.
“A Controller is someone who can control the minds of any human, but not someone that holds the same gift,” she says shortly. So still no explanation of why my gift didn’t affect him.
“So he could still control some gifted, but not one’s with enhanced sense of touch?” Alexander asks and Zavy nods.
“You know, you would think King Renon would have something that would allow a person to be unaffected by someone’s gift. That way him and the other regular people could be protected from their power,” I say, hinting at the fact that Paylon did.
“Well they do,” Alexander says. Bingo I think. Then he continues, “It’s a green stone that the guards wear as a necklace. The guards can’t have it on at all times though. If they wear it too long it will start to kill them. It’s a pretty poisonous substance. It’s not perfect. It can only block out a certain amount of force, but it’s definitely something.”
“So gifts have no power around them?” Zavy asks.
“No, gifts still work,” Alexander clarifies. “They just can’t directly affect the person wearing it.”
At the mention of the green rocks, I’m reminded of the guards who wore them when I tried to escape. I hadn’t noticed if Paylon was wearing one or not, but he must have been. We grab our share of the meat and eat it with some of the ray berries as we continue discussing.
“So why weren’t you taken under control of Paylon?” Zavy asks, scanning Alexander up and down.
“Well, I think it’s because I never actually worked for him. I was just someone that ate lunch with him, so I guess he never thought he needed to control me.” Alexander says through bites of food. We finish our meal in silence and once we are done the sounds of the woods surround us.
“We should be more prepared in case Paylon finds us,” I mumble to myself, but my group nods, agreeing. “Alexander and I each have a sword, and Zavy has the bow, but that’s hardly enough. We should look in the bunker for anything else we can use,” I say. Alexander puts out the fire and we file back into the bunker for the night. Zavy pulls the heavy lid closed and my heart jumps to my throat. My breaths come short and I have to lean against the cool stone walls to steady myself.
Zavy relights some of the candles and Alexander is at my side. “Are you okay?” he asks me and his strong hand holds my shoulder tight.
I take in a few more short breaths and try to get my words out, “It reminds me of.” I don’t have to finish my thought because Alexander knows exactly what I’m trying to say.
He quiets me and motions for me to take slower and deeper breaths. “You aren’t locked up anymore, Adaline. We are free. It’s okay.” Alexander helps me to one of the soft couches in the bunker and sits with me. He pulls out his water and tells me to take slow sips between my deep breaths and eventually I feel my heart slow back down.
“You good?” Zavy asks in a not so concerned voice as she leans over the back of the couch. I catch Alexander shoot her a disgusted glance, clearly annoyed with her tone.
“I’m fine,” I start to say and Zavy stands and interrupts me.
“Good, help me find some more weapons we can use,” Zavy commands and moves around the bunker.
“You don’t have to,” Alexander begins to offer, but I stop him short.
“I’m better, really,” I say, even though it’s not true. My stomach still threatens to give up what little food I’ve eaten today, but I’m hoping that searching the bunker will take my mind off the thought that I am currently several feet below ground. We dig through the bins throughout the bunker, looking for anything useful. We don’t find much except for a set of four kitchen knives.
“It’s something,” Zavy says, twirling it through her fingers. Toby is far more interested in the bin of toys than looking for weapons. His favorite seems to be a little family of colorful squishy frogs. While looking for the weapons I do come across a crate full of bags. We distribute a backpack to each of us and fill them with the extra knife, and food rations.
“Have you tried these yet?” Alexander asks, shaking the ration. He tears it open and similarly to the one I had earlier, it is filled with white powdery chunks. Alexander pops one in his mouth and wrinkles his nose.
“Not good?” I ask with a light laugh.
“It tastes like nothing,” he says. He turns the bag over in his hands and the word EGG is printed on it.
As I suspected Alexander continues eating the dried rations, not use to the lack of food. The difference in our reaction to the rations is obvious. I saw them as a miracle, an endless supply of food that could keep me alive. I’ve lived off of prison food for years so this white powder seems like a luxury. He’s always had the privilege of getting to choose what he wants to eat.
Additionally, I move over my mother’s journal, the gold coin, and my photograph to my new bag and scrap the old one Alexander gave me. After we’ve sorted our things we settle in for the night, each getting our own bed.
“I’m blowing out the candles,” Zavy says,
