Chapter 27: You’ve Made a Big Mistake

“Melissa, please, you’ve got to let me go. Get out of the way!”

Melissa wasn’t budging, no matter how much Jack pleaded. It wasn’t just because she was doing her job—the reason she was even there in the first place—but more, she had made a silent promise to Alana. If she had to knock Jack over the head, she would, but so long as he stayed on the other end of the room, he could beg and plead as much as he wanted.

She stood with her back to the door, her arms spread out in a wordless refusal of passage. Jack paced back and forth between his bed and the dresser, running tense fingers through his messy black hair and over his eyes. His boyish features covered with worry.

“Everything will be fine, Jack. Paro and everyone will be here soon. You just have to believe in them.”

She hoped that was the truth, she really did. It would break her heart to see anything happen to Jack’s mom. Since meeting the woman, Melissa had really taken a liking to her. From the bottom of her heart, she didn’t want to see any harm befall Alana, but she would be willing to do anything to keep Jack safe.

Paro’s voice came through the device in her ear, which she’d snatched from Jack after dragging him upstairs. She never would’ve expected Jack and Michael’s stupidity to turn into something that could save their lives, as without the device they’d be forced to use cell-phones, unreliable in a life or death situations. They were able to speak with the team in real time.

“Just hang tight, you two. We’re coming as fast as we can.”

******

Alana was not willing to be insulted. She watched from a small opening in the window above her front door as five people attempted to approach her home in silence. Alana didn’t like snakes or people that acted like snakes. If they wanted to start trouble, they’d have to meet her face to face. She had to admit, though—without her son’s warning, she’d never have noticed them. Things were easier to spot when forewarned.

Jack.

Why did her only child have to be an Unrestricted? They would never leave him alone now. Was there anything in this world she could do for him? Alana clenched her fists and took deep, relaxing breaths, forcing the worry and sadness from her mind. To live, she’d need to remain focused.

She threw open the front door and shouted at the five dark silhouettes across the street. “I know you’re there! You want to talk? Come here then. Don’t sulk in the darkness like cowards.”

The five shadows ceased moving. What Alana assumed was the leader turned to her and walked towards the nearest streetlamp, revealing her face in the scant light amid the darkness. She was around Alana’s age but she looked hardened, brutal, and a great deal sadistic. Under normal conditions, she’d be an attractive woman, but with a gaze like hers, even the dirtiest-minded would stand clear.

“I’ve never been one to appreciate being called a coward, Mrs. Harris. Very well, I’ll oblige.”

Alana led the woman into her home then asked her to take a seat at the kitchen table, where just hours before she’d been enjoying small talk with Melissa. She grabbed a pot from under the kitchen sink and boiled water, preparing tea.

Four men entered the home, following behind the woman in the same gear that Alana knew was used by recon officers. The woman was the only one dressed in casual clothing, with blue-jeans and a black-knitted sweater. The men were Psychs, no doubt. Their recon gear fooled no one.

“My name is Cemmera Wilson. I am both a team-leader and Captain of the Operations Department. Your son, Jack Harris, age sixteen, Telekinetic—we are here for him. Please stand aside and let us do our job.”

An Op. team? An Op. team is in my house for Jack! Alana’s thoughts turned frantic.

She had no idea why an Op. team would be after her son and probably neither did Paro, or he’d have warned her. Something like this shouldn’t even be possible. From what Jack had let slip, it sounded like he had already been signed up to a team, which meant he wasn't suspected of any criminal activity.

Alana forced herself to smile, adding cheer and merriment to her voice. “Ah, you want to see my son? Okay then, no problem at all! Just show me the signed kill-order, and I’ll bring you to him myself.”

Cemmera snarled and bit her lip. Oddly, two of the men behind her gave each other worried, acknowledging looks, almost as if they’d expected Alana to respond the way she had. One was a muscular, middle-aged man, also around Alana’s age. The other was a short and stocky man, appearing to be of Spanish descent.

“You’ll be happy to know, Mrs. Harris, that we do not have a kill-order. We are just going to take him and ask him some questions.”

Alana grinned. “You are, are you? I’m sorry, which department did you say you were from again?”

Cemmera slammed her fist down on the table and stood up, pointing a threatening finger at her. “Do not make a fool out of me, Mrs. Harris. I have an abundance of evidence linking your son to a series of murders.”

Alana pretended to be captivated by her words, and with obvious mockery, she nodded like a child listening to a fairytale. “Whoa, that sounds awful. You should go and tell that to an Investigative team right away!”

The woman trembled with what was obviously rage. In two quick strides, she crossed the distance from the table to the stove where Alana was making tea and came to stand nose to nose with her.

“You’re going to learn I don’t like to be mocked, Mrs. Harris. Now, I tried to be civil, I really did. So here’s how this is going to work. You can either A, lead me to Jack, B, sit here and do nothing, or C, you can run away screaming and flailing your arms. I will accept any of these options, but get in my way, and I will turn you into something that can slide down a sewer grate. Do we have an understanding, tramp?”

Well, Alana thought, no one can say I didn’t at least try to keep my cool.

Alana kept her cheerful smile on her face and even paused to pour herself a small cup of tea, sipping at it with delighted ease. It was underneath this appearance of nonchalance that burned inside her a fiery pit of rage so massive that even the surface of the sun could not compare to the heat of it.

“You know, Mrs. Cemmera, umm, Wilson—was it? Before you go and retrieve my son, I was wondering, do you know anything about me? His mother?”

Cemmera scoffed at her. “I know you’re some kind of lowly Psych, probably worse trash than the Carebears you seem to revere so much.”

“Did you know that I used to go by another name? Besides Mrs. Harris, that is. It was a name I heard the most when I was asking someone a question.”

Cemmera crossed her arms and laughed. “I suppose you’re going to tell me something that will impress me? Please, then, by all means, what oh what did they call you?”

Alana’s grin became wider, almost maniacal. “They used to look at me and say, ‘As you command, General Harris.’”

Cemmera wasn’t given enough time to let Alana’s words dawn on her. She got as far as raising a single eyebrow before Alana grabbed at her with a tremendous Kinetic force, lifting her into the air and sending her crashing through the kitchen window. For a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of the glass shattering, followed by the sound of a crash outside as the woman landed on—and probably broke—most of Alana’s flowering pots. From beyond the window came a scream of agony and rage.

For almost ten full seconds, the four men looked at each other with their mouths hanging open before snapping out of their disbelief and surrounding her. Alana knew then that she was probably going to die.

She understood right away that the real problem, the nail in her coffin, was going to be the Reinforcer. As soon as the four men snapped to attention and launched their assault, Alana realized just how messed up of a situation she was in.

To call it dire would be an understatement—it was catastrophic. For one, the two Telekinetics were already after her with what could only be called a fanatic desperation as they attempted to grab, push, or otherwise cripple her. Alana had to draw on every last bit of power she could, down to the smallest drop, just to fight off their grabs. If a single one made contact, it was over.

This led to the second problem, the Telepath. The short and stocky man disrupted her. His head was face down, looking at the kitchen table. He was seated, his entire concentration bent on breaking hers. She could do nothing to stop him, because to divert even a single moment of attention from fighting off the two Kinetic’s grabs would spell out instant death. She was doing everything she could just to hold them off.

It was for these reasons that the Reinforcer was the icing on the cake, but there was nothing she could do about him. To make matters worse, Alana could already hear the groans from outside the window as the Cemmera-woman recovered. She would be rejoining the fight soon.

Alana ripped open her topmost cabinet drawer and grabbed the sharpest knife she could find. Her chances of survival were almost zero, but there was still one possible way she could make it out alive. It was close to impossible, yet Alana wouldn’t die without at least trying.

She needed to kill the Telepath—it was as simple as that. If she could stick the knife in his throat, she could handle the other three. Alana was a powerful woman, counted at one point among the greatest of her affinity. She was almost as good as her husband.

She lived Telekinesis, she breathed Telekinesis, and it was more to her than just her affinity—telekinesis was her life. It wasn’t her power that had once caused her to be considered among the best. There had been Kinetics far more powerful than she, who’d never made it to the rank of Captain, let alone team-leader. Power could only bring you so far. Even a Psych with a fraction of another’s power could emerge the victor in a fight, if the power was well used.

Much like the way a locked door can be opened if you have the proper key, or a gigantic knot can be undone by simply tugging at the proper string, there were always vulnerabilities in the affinities, and there was always technique. Alana wasn’t the strongest, but she was the embodiment of skill. Even with the Path weakening her to such a large extent, she could still brush aside the grabbing attempts made by the two Telekinetics, regardless of their overwhelming force. It was almost a matter of pride with Alana. No Telekinetic, especially not ones that were Op. team animals, would bring this gal down.

The Reinforcer rushed her, trying to decapitate her with a down-handed swing. She leaped to the side, rolling on the white-tiled kitchen floor. The man’s fist exploded through the sink, ripping all the way through to the cabinet underneath, spraying water and debris in every direction. The odds were so stacked against her that it was almost comical.

She charged forward, knife-end pointed downward, ready to kill the Telepath. The Reinforcer was faster, as she expected he would be. He jumped off the back of his heels and tried to tackle her. Alana kicked out her legs and threw herself to the ground as the man flew just an inch over her head. He landed on his stomach, and in an instant was back on his feet, only now he was in front of her. He knew what she had intended—it was obvious. He wasn’t going to let her get to his Path.

Time was running out. It had only been a few seconds, yet it in another few the Cemmera-woman would return. Whatever affinity Cemmera was, it would be too much for Alana to handle. In fact, what she was already facing was too much for her to handle.

“Nice try,” the Reinforcer said. “But you’re not going near our Path.”

He charged at her again, and this time Alana had nowhere to run—he was just too fast. If he collided with her, she would die. It would be like getting hit in the chest by a speeding bus. She had no choice. She had to divert all of her power towards stopping the large man.

The two Kinetics looked confused for a moment as they no doubt felt her resistance fade. Taking advantage of their momentary surprise, Alana poured her rage into the Reinforcer, throwing her Kinetic energies at him. Alana flung him in the opposite direction at an even faster speed than he was charging at her with. The Reinforcer was sent soaring just overhead of the concentrating Path. He crashed through the wall behind him and landed with a groan on the living room floor. Dust and paint chips were scattered on impact as Alana watched her house get destroyed. The home, however, was the very least of her concerns at the moment.

The Kinetics grinned. Now that they had an opening, they were able to grab at her. Alana cried out as she found herself slammed to the floor with a thud, only to be picked up yet again and tossed around like a child, skimming along the counter-tops, knocking plates, napkin-holders, and glass cups to the ground, breaking just about everything in her kitchen.

The pain was intense, and she struggled to once again regain control. They threw her all around the room. Each intense collision weakened her, causing her to shout out in pain. She screamed as she desperately tried to regain her focus and fight off the two. It wasn’t easy, and the Kinetics managed to toss her two more times before she was once again able to reassert her dominance. She landed on her back against the hard, tiled-floor. The attacks had stopped, but they had done their damage.

“Damn you all.” She coughed, and trickles of blood fell out of her mouth, landing on the floor beside her.

The Reinforcer was back on his feet. Alana didn’t know if she was crazy or simply dazed from the beating she’d received, but when the Reinforcer returned to the room, he didn’t use the door, choosing instead to enter back through the wall she’d sent him crashing through. This caused Alana to burst out laughing.

In what was Alana’s biggest surprise of the night, each one of the men began laughing along with her.

“It is kind of funny,” the Reinforcer said, covered in dust. “But hey, at least you get to die smiling, Mrs. Harris. I think everyone should know the name of the man who killed them. My name is Neil, and it was nice meeting you.”

Alana was still lying on the ground and struggling to keep the Kinetics off her. As the man towered over her with his left hand gripped into a fist, Alana knew it was going to be the last thing she’d ever see.

“What’s everyone laughing about? Can I get in on the joke too?” asked a voice.

The man, Neil, turned his head to face the voice. He only faced it for a moment, though, because an instant later his head snapped in the opposite direction. With a crackling, crunching sound a fist collided with his jaw, sending him soaring with a bang into another set of cabinets next to the sink, rendering more of Alana’s kitchen destroyed and useless.

“They say when two of us fight, one of us dies. I’ve never killed a man, so I guess you’re going to be my first.”

Alana couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Melissa, with a look of tremendous fury, hovered over Alana with her arm still extended from where she’d decked Neil.

“Melissa, why did you come down here? It’s dangerous. You could die.”

“Because,” she said. “If I let his mom die, Jack will never forgive me. I can’t live with that.”

The two Kinetics gaped at the girl who’d just sent their Reinforcer scrambling face first into kitchen furniture. It was just the opportunity Alana had been waiting for. It was finally her chance to fight back. She was exhausted, badly injured, and at the very least had a few broken ribs, if not other bones.

Telekinetics could only move what they were able to see. Lying down, Alana tilted her head as far back as it would go, almost until it hurt. In the corner of her eyes, she spotted it—the two utensil drawers left of the now broken sink, which was shooting up water like a fire hydrant.

The two drawers sprang open, and in an overwhelming display of Alana’s fullest, unhindered power, every last knife, fork, and even spoon zipped across the room, flying at tremendous speed towards the Telepath.

Melissa stood frozen in terror as almost thirty knives threatened to skewer her. Alana coughed a victorious laugh, and the knives changed direction in mid-air. They swerved and flew above Melissa’s head without causing the girl any harm. The Telepath only had time to look up in confusion, as he was turned into a human dartboard, pierced from head to toe by knives, forks, and the reverse end of spoons. His death was instant.

Cemmera burst into the room, wearing a broken flowering pot as a hat. She looked like an enraged demon out of hell. Alana didn’t think she’d ever seen anger on someone quite like Cemmera was wearing at that moment.

Her hands were shaking. Her tongue hung from her mouth. She craned her neck sideways and moaned.

“Kill you … gonna kill you all … Gonna make it hurt!”

Alana was too exhausted to even respond. She had done her best, and now she had to trust that Paro would arrive on time. She laughed at the foolish-looking woman with the flower-pot-hat before she passed out. She prayed that when … if she woke up again, all would be fine.