Chapter 42—Earth

I don't know what he intends until the blocky man grabs me by my shoulders and drags me to the ground. He holds my arms and back flat against the ground while the man in the black coat looms over me, his hands on the button on his jeans.

Jesse moans. “Stop.” He draws up to a sitting position, his eyes filled with a helpless rage. “Stop right now!”

The man in the black coat doesn't listen. His pants have dropped down to his knees and he leans over me. I lift one leg and kick at him, but he dodges me easily. “Sometimes my job isn't so bad. Not so bad at all. You’re nice to look at, and I like young ladies.”

Bright blue light floods the parking lot and the man flies backward, his head cracking into the concrete.

“Bravo,” Devlin says, “but your idea worked on the wrong sibling, Phillip. Even so, I'll take any progress.”

The blocky man releases me and steps back.

Jesse crawls toward me, dazed. “What just happened?”

“You Lifted him off me,” I say, “just like I've always described. You're telekinetic, J. I think that's what they're talking about when they say they want me to Wake up. They want me to access my powers here, on Earth.”

“Try, Alora. Please.”

Devlin's listening with interest. But I've tried thousands and thousands of times to use my powers. Of course I have. I've done everything the same way I do it in Terra, only here, nothing happens.

Devlin pulls his gun back out. “I worried this might be the only way.”

“Don't shoot me,” I say. “I'll try harder.”

“The problem, princess, is that I think you already have tried your best.”

“I can do more,” I say.

“Go ahead, then.”

I look at Devlin. He has a nicely shaped face, commanding champagne eyes, nice hair, and a powerful build, especially for his age. He’s gorgeous for an older man, if I’m being impartial.

And I've never wanted to hurt anyone in my life as badly as I want to hurt him.

I focus on the world around me. The concrete beneath my fingers, sticky with Jesse's blood. Devlin, the blocky man, Jesse, and Phillip's slumped form are obscured by shadows, but they’re all visible.

But I can't sense them. I try, but it's like nothing is there, not like I can feel things around me on Terra. I focus on Devlin's head and will it to Lift from his body, but nothing happens.

“We've wasted years already. We're out of time.” Devlin motions to the blocky man, who approaches us. “Besides. If they don’t already know, Isis will know who you are any day.”

Jesse's eyes flare again, and Devlin's gun flies away from his hand. Devlin laughs. “You've been Awake for ten seconds, son. You're no match for me. If I want to kill you, I don't need a firearm to do it.” Devlin's eyes shine with golden light and the gun flies right back into his hand. “I use a gun because it's easier for law enforcement to explain the injury. That makes cleaning up the official reports less messy. It amuses me that humans have created such ways to kill, in the absence of the powers God gave us. Powers that were taken to shift the course of humanity, to bring peace, allegedly, and look what we've done without them. We removed the claws from the monsters, but the monsters still have teeth. No one can save the wolf from himself.”

I’m beginning to think Devlin’s insane.

Jesse's eyes flare again, and Devlin's gun zips through the air and into Jesse's hand. “I don't care how effective it is, as long as it works.” Jesse fires the gun at Devlin's head.

The gun kicks as the bullet flies out, almost knocking the firearm from Jesse’s hand, but I think Jesse's aim was true.

Only, the bullet doesn't ever connect with its intended target.

It stops and then drops to the ground. Jesse fires off three more shots, and Devlin smiles at him the entire time. Clink, plink, clink. All three bullets fall, harmless, to the asphalt.

“Go ahead,” Devlin says.

The blocky man walks up behind us, grabs Jesse by the shoulders, lifts him up and bashes his head against the wall. Jesse slumps down to the pavement, blood oozing through his hair and down his neck. His eyes aren’t tracking anymore.

I stand transfixed, unable to move, unable to process anything that's happening. Everything around me, the night sky, the stars, the monsters who came with Devlin, the man himself, the concrete beneath me, it all falls away. My focus narrows to the one person in the universe whom I really care about. My anchor in a dark ocean.

Jesse's body spasms at first, and then slowly goes still.

My world narrows again, to a tiny pinpoint, to Jesse’s face, blood marring his beautiful nose, his big blue eyes staring blankly at nothing. Then, just as quickly, the world snaps back into focus and I see and feel everything.

Thousands of tons of concrete. Cars, so many cars for this time of night. Dumpsters filled with garbage a dozen feet behind me. Two disgusting men staring at me intently, and the heartbeat of my brother.

It stutters. I sense it in a way I never have before.

Maybe I can take his injury on myself. Maybe I can Heal him.

I lean over and feel the bump on his head, slick with blood. It's the size of a plum, and I feel for it, for the injury, but his heart is barely beating, and I don't know what I'm doing. His heart pumps in a staccato rhythm and then stutters and then beats again.

One last time.

I close my eyes and imagine my own head swelling up and his healing, but nothing happens. I imagine his heart beating and nothing happens. I take his face in my hands and try to force him to see me, but his eyes are empty. Is his soul already gone? I focus on his heart and squeeze, and it moves. I repeat that over and over, but it just makes blood evacuate faster from the hole created by the bump on his head.

My soul is shredded, my mind shattered. My heart—explodes.

When I look around, Declan is the first thing I see. Declan, who killed Jesse just to Wake me up. Fury floods my entire body, every cell of my being writhing with a rage so intense I don't know where it can possibly go.

Declan won't just die. He will suffer. He will writhe.

I Lift him off the ground. He shoves against me pitifully, like a puppy pawing at my shoe. I laugh. The sound that emerges should frighten me, but I'm beyond that. I Lift him a few feet into the air, hovering over me. I shove his arms and legs apart, as far apart as I can.

“Have you heard the phrase 'drawn and quartered'?” I ask. I don't wait for an answer, since he’s screaming and barely conscious. “It's an old punishment. I thought it was barbaric when I studied it in history, but I think I’ve gained a new appreciation for its purpose.”

I focus on his hand. “Do you have any idea what you stole from me?” I snap the bone of the smallest finger on his left hand. Then I Lift his ring finger, and snap it too. His screaming is entirely incoherent, which bothers me. I release him for a moment. “You killed my brother. You will pay for that, and I want you aware of why.”

He thrashes around in the air. “I had no choice. If you didn't Wake, hundreds of thousands of people would have died. It's in the prophecy. You loved your brother and I commend you for it, but the world needs you. This is bigger than any one person.”

Except he's wrong. It's not bigger than one person. The world and all its occupants can burn. What has the world ever done for me? I'll raze it all to the ground, now that the only person I've ever loved is gone. Actually, forget making him suffer. Every second Declan lives feels like an affront to justice, like a luxury he doesn’t deserve.

I snap every bone left in his hands, and every bone in his feet, and I smile as Declan's body contorts soundlessly.

“He wouldn't have wanted this to happen,” Declan moans. “What would your brother want you to become?”

I stop, caught by his words. Jesse wouldn't want me to become a monster like this man I’m torturing. What would he tell me to do, if he were still alive?

A sharp blow hits me on the side of my head.

Splitting pain radiates outward from it.

I forgot about the blocky man. How could I forget about Declan's goon? I try to think around the drilling feeling inside my skull and realize through the throbbing that my face is being dragged across the ground. I didn't Bind Declan in place, so he's no longer hanging in the air. Where did he go? I force my head up from the ground and look upward at my assailant. Instead of the blocky man, I'm being dragged along the concrete by a shaggy brown bear, his paw wrapped around my ankle.

No time to think further, and I can barely lift my head, much less search for Declan.

Concrete surrounds me. The dumpsters, the cars. My hands shake, and the ground around me begins to vibrate. From the corner of my eye, I see Declan, collapsed in a heap on the ground. His broken hands and feet won't hold his weight, so he's slithering away from me on his belly as quickly as he can. Fitting, actually. Writhing, wriggling, like the snake that he is.

I Lift the bear-man away from me and slam him against the wall. At the same time, I reach for everything around me. The concrete, the building, the dumpsters, all of it. I crawl over to my brother, and pull him onto my lap. I cradle his head in my arms, and then I tear the world apart, piece by piece.

Chunks of concrete, light poles, I pulverize it all and hurl every last bit of it at the monsters who destroyed me, piling the debris up so high that it reaches the same level as the top of the theater.

When I'm sure there's no way anyone could have survived, I stop. Everything I've Lifted and haven't used falls to the earth. I lean over my brother's body, draw it close, curl around it, and close my eyes, ready to leave this world, too. No point in staying here when my heart has already stopped beating.

Except I can’t just do nothing. It’s not in me to quit.

I close my eyes. I feel my brother’s body slowly, quietly, calmly, until I can feel his heart, his lungs, his stomach. I gently reach for his heart and squeeze. I squeeze it again and again, until I can feel the little blood that remains pumping through his veins. I'm still doing that when the ambulance arrives.

The woman who hops out of the back of the ambulance looks at me, and then takes in the rubble and the piles of concrete. Luckily, she can't see the three dead bodies. “What happened here?” she asks.

“His heart,” I say. “It stopped. Can you help him?” I feign CPR.

She nods. To her credit, she jumps to work without any more questions, which is good, because I’m lightheaded. I slump backward as spots dance in front of my eyes. I can't seem to remain conscious, so I hope what I've done is enough.

I fear it isn't.