PART II

Chapter 10

Corrin

I grasp the gun from the ground, fingers locking around the trigger.

“Back off!” I point at the man, instinctively clicking off the safety. I had no idea these guys were tracking me. The kid who worked at the second-hand tech shop definitely will receive a beating as he seemed distracted by a game on his cell while I appropriated a next gen tablet minutes before the shop closed. As I snuck out the half-drunk owners must’ve seen me. Chances are it’s not their first case as they didn’t launch into pursuit but tracked me and only lost me when I turned into the alley leading to the restaurant. They must’ve hoped to track me to a buyer.

With a step back the leaner man of the two curses and the second one straightens from Sevina, slumped on the ground at his feet. He flashes a mocking smile. “It’s not loaded—”

I fire into the ground next to his feet, sending him aside. I aimed closer, but my shaking hands prevented the accurate shot.

“I said, back off!” Resolute, I step forward, lifting the gun but aiming past their heads. Both men grumble, swearing at each other for not checking the weapon as they remove their frames out of the alley. A passerby promptly makes his way across the street and away from the commotion.

Once the men are a distance away I squat next to unconscious Sevina. “Sevina?” I slip the hood from her hair and check her head. It’s bloodless. I shake her shoulder. The man struck her with his fist. There’s no way I can leave her here, not with the threat of those intoxicated scoundrels returning and not with the condition she’s in.

I scoop her up, taking a decent amount of strength. She’s not heavy, but I won’t be able to carry her in my arms across the entire district so I place her limp body across my shoulders in a soldier carry.

“What the heck was your address?” I whisper. It was on the other side of Coats. Five, maybe six, subway stops from here? I saw it on Mrs. Brice’s computer and I noted it on my cell. I remember the street, but not the building or flat number. 550-18? 558- 81? Maybe the hospital would be better, but they ask a myriad of questions there. I could bring her to the doc near the safety blocks. No. None of those are secure enough to carry an unconscious girl to.

As I trudge through Coats I strain to recall the address. I keep to the alleys to avoid suspicious looks which I still get. I create a lie in case someone approaches; I’m carrying her from a wild party and I have no money for a cab. Though I doubt people will trust me as I don’t appear like the partying kind and more like a homeless molester.

I reach what I hope is the right building and ease Sevina onto the stairs to find the keys. I slide my hands into her pockets, find nothing and feel around her back. I haven’t patted down any girls in a long while and can’t help but notice the feel of her curves. Heat rises in my cheeks, but I ignore it and focus on the task at hand until I find the keys, then leave her downstairs and climb to the fifth floor to check if I was right. The key doesn’t fit. Better yet, someone cracks the lock from the inside. I rush downstairs, scoop Sevina up, and try another combination.

As I navigate the alleys I notice how at ease I feel here. Two months homeless turned Havason into my new home. The streets grew on me while my guilt and self-pity diminished. I began stealing. I forced myself to stalk people— elderly, kids with coins for candy, or filch an apple from Coats market stalls. In the thrift shop I’d slide on clothing underneath mine in the fitting room, stuff a shirt or two in the backpack I also appropriated from one guy.

Life fell into a groove.

Still, all it was, was mindless surviving.

I worked construction for a couple days but was fired after I had a panic attack and swung at one of the workers who approached from behind. After I failed my trial something snapped inside me, something I don’t know how to fix. I thought about finding a job in one of the shops, but for all I knew the one I’d have chosen might’ve belonged to my family. What if, against all odds, someone recognized me? I’d be taken back. Then what? I doubt Father would talk to me. Not to this version of me. He’d be disgusted and likely end me himself, then kill Dan and continue on as the heartless mob boss that he is— killing innocent people like the two I saw our men execute. Who were they? Another two victims among the hundreds who disappoint him?

The restaurant… I must’ve walked past the place at least a dozen times in two months.

One day you’ll go back in there, or so I told myself. But whenever I stopped in front of the windows all I faced was my leaner face and longer hair, until I barely recognized myself. Gone was the neat looking boy, replaced by a fatigued face and scraggy clothing. A growing layer of dirty shirts, covering me, created an illusion of a healthy build. It was often hot as the summer temperature remained high, but I kept them on to appear bigger and intimidating to whoever might want to harm me. Underneath I’ve lost all my muscle—most of it anyway.

With false hopes to elevate the load from my chest I broke into the restaurant. I kept my eyes on the white outlines where the bodies fell. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, God, I’m so sorry— endless chant rang in my mind until a more coherent thought crept in. The trial, what my father forced Dan to do— all of is wrong. If only I could prevent the violence, the pain from happening ever again.

If I could go back… somehow…

The back door creaked. I wasn’t the only one to hunt for solace at the crime scene. Silhouetted by the streetlight was a girl. She sprung back and ran. I leapt after, wondering who she is and why she’s visited the place. In her panic she fell right into the arms of the drunks that were tracking me. I wasn’t certain it was Sevina and was ready to leave her until the man grabbed her neck, exposing her face.

It was her—

“Huh?” The opening door dispels my introspection. “Finally.” At the flick of a light switch an apartment gains a form, no bigger than my bathroom and in worse shape than me. I close the door with my foot and lay Sevina on the sleeper sofa, then plunge on the chair by her desk and allow myself to catch a breath. It’ll take an innumerous amount of calories to restore the energy I burned, gallivanting from one apartment to the other. Another two combinations were wrong and now that I think about it I could’ve waited for her to wake, but I was too lost in my thoughts. Good thing I still have that tab. It’s worth an entire month of food. It’s not my first one, but the riskiest. I should’ve executed the theft smarter, checked for anyone. Usually no one bothers with cheap goods, and during my time on the streets, I rarely met kids or teens who steal. Only two in fact. Do most of them end up in gangs? Places like Terrel took me to?

Sevina remains out cold. I open her refrigerator. Ice cream and frozen instant-noodles? Who keeps noodles in a freezer? I take the frozen noodle pack, reluctant to hunt for a towel to put the ice cubes into, and snatch a pack of open crackers from the counter. I wash my hands in the bathroom, then pull the chair closer to her sofa and sit. I tilt her head to the side and feel around the back. A bump has already started to form and I press the frozen noodle pack against it, grabbing a cracker from my sweatshirt pocket. I check her neck and it seems all right. The man wasn’t choking her, I think.

How did she know? Did she rely on a hunch, hoping the gun would be there? A bold move. I was convinced it was impossible to see it under the man’s jacket.

The window above the sofa is open, curtains billowing in the wind. I inhale a lung full of gas and try to remember how my home smells like during hot summer nights when I left the windows open; a dry and piney scent with a hint of chlorine from the pool…

I squirm, my muscles tingling. I can’t ease. My head keeps jerking sideways to the door or window, and I itch to end my day on the street in a nice open spot with means of an easy escape should harm come. After all, I haven’t sat in a chair for two months and spent time in such a small place besides the occasional restroom. Here, among these purple walls, I can’t help but shrink lower and lower in the chair until I’m on the ground by the sofa. I straighten my legs, throwing them wide before taking off two of my five t-shirts, then I have a stare-off with the bathroom door, desperate for a shower.

A loud yelp causes me to shoot forward and flatten to the ground, whipping out a knife. I blink and scramble up with sloppy movements. Sevina jumps from the sofa and backs against the wall, drawing herself away from me.

“Sevina, it’s me.” I hide my knife and near her, steadying her by her shoulders. “It’s Corrin.” Panting in disoriented frenzy, she rests her hands on my arms and squints at me as I gaze into her golden eyes. Her pupils contract into two tiny dots and her eyes widen. She gasps, shivers bolting through her, and gasps again.

“It’s all right! Do you remember me?”

Her pupils dilate sharply and her knees bend under her as she collapses in her spot. “Sevina!” I catch her waist, lowering her to the ground. “What the heck?” I shake her. She looked at me… and fainted? What? “Hey?” Nothing.

Grunting, I lift her and place her on the sofa again. When I straighten she opens her eyes and I fall into a crouch in front of her. “Sevina?”

Her eyes slide to me, almost painfully, and I look away, trying to evade a wave of hostility that follows.

“It was you.” Her lips part as her eyebrows curl. “You killed them.”

If I had to predict what being struck by lightning feels like, this would be it. My entire body heats up, a prickling sensation crawling under my skin. My breath stuck in my throat, I lean back. “How… how do you know that?”

She huffs as if realizing the fact herself. “Oh, God. Get away.” She pushes past me, swaying to the bathroom. The lock clicks and I can’t move as I glare at the spot where she sat. Numerous possibilities of who she might be and how she might’ve discovered this amass in my head.

“Sevina?” I shed the initial stupor and step to the door. “How do you know? Please, you have to tell me.” I do my best to keep my composure.

Silence. I idle, endlessly speculating. She might be dangerous. She could be working for my father. What if he hired her to track me? Am I paranoid? Still, she kicked that drunk hard in the knee and had enough guts and self-control to do it while pinned against the wall. Was it adrenaline rush?

I reach for the gun on the table I had left there earlier and check the magazine. If she’s dangerous I have to be armed and ready to defend myself. I could grab her and interrogate her before she jumps at me first…

Corrin, what are you thinking?

I’m not hurting her, nor anyone else ever again. I place the gun on the table.

After what feels like an eternity, the door cracks open and I’m next to her as close as I can be but still a few feet away. Her dark hair is loose around her shoulders and her head hangs low as if burdened by the world. “Sevina?” I step to the side as though there is a force field guarding her. She stops by the window. All the inquiries I made beforehand vanish, leaving my head weathered and empty. I mindfully step forward; close enough to look into her eyes which won’t meet my gaze. “Please, I have to know. Do you know my father? How?” She shakes her head and sits on the sofa, now strangely calm around me. I lower myself next to her as far as I can, but it’s not far at all. “Tell me.”

“It’s the eyes.” I discern her whisper. “Whenever I look people in the eyes I see things. I see all of it.”

Unsure if I heard it correctly, I blink a few times and straighten. “You see peoples… lives?”

She tips her chin twice.

“Bullshit.”

My astonishment doesn’t concern her as she pulls her knees to her chest and lies down, forcing me to stand. “Leave me alone.” She curls into a fetal position and faces the window.

It wasn’t a trick. She has mental problems or is pulling a flawless act. I let out a suppressed and vexed growl and slide to the ground against one of the walls. That can’t be it. I have to know the truth. I’ll find it out.

I watch her, waiting, expecting her to do something harmful to me, but she falls asleep, and soon enough so do I.

…

A clinging sound from the kitchen awakens me. The morning sun has lit the city outside but I’m as tired as I was when I fell asleep. At least I’m in once piece, still alone with Sevina in her apartment. I stand. Sevina notices me as she’s putting some ice into a towel in the kitchen.

“I still have to know the truth,” I say softly.

“It’s true.”

“Uh… Can you prove it?”

She puts the towel into the bowl on the counter, props her hands against it and sighs. “Dan shot you twice, pretending to kill you.” So she knows Dan and he told her. “I have to look again to remember it all.” She turns, her voice almost apologetic. I stand unmoving and she rolls her eyes up, thinking. “You are a better person for being yourself… For not following.”

My feet root to the spot.

“You also cut your arm, from when you were thrown into the trunk. You haven’t told anybody about it. And the shot leg.” She glances at my calf. “But it’s nothing compared to the wounds in your mind—”

“Don’t.” I sniff, uncomfortable. “It’s enough. You’re not kidding, are you?”

“No.”

She has abilities? I’ve never heard of people having abilities. Sure they flaunt a myriad of fancy tech at exhibitions; eye lenses you don’t have to take out, genetic modifications, holograms, hover-cars, blasters, most advanced military aircrafts, droids, and so on. Dan once told me Father knows people who can erase your memory or mess with your brain in ways I can’t imagine. But I would never think someone would take it this far. Is she even human?

She presses the towel to her head and cringes.

When it begins to sink in I holster my amusement and ask. “But who made you like this?

She turns her head to the side. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”

“What do you mean? You have a gift and you never wondered where it came from? You could—”

The bowl clangs as she throws the towel into it, her body tensing. “No, I don’t. Because every time I look into those eyes I see a person’s entire life. I know every detail of them, every dirty secret. Their guilt. Their pleasures— all of it. For the first five seconds I can feel all you feel and have ever felt. I can feel your existence, and it’s terrifying.”

I waft a short breath through my nose. “All the secrets?”

“Yes, all the secrets,” she confirms. “Hips too.”

I cover half of my face with my palm and cast my eyes to the side. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re a man. I get it.”

I want to change my identity and relocate. It’s not just that. It’s everything! My life exposed on a sheet of paper, my failures, my hardship— all is at her disposal. My weaknesses are open for her to use… I tremble with discomfort, feeling naked. It is terrifying no matter how you look at it. She knows I killed the people she loved. Why isn’t she angry?

“You can take a shower.” She takes the ice towel again. “No. Go take a shower.”

I almost form a smile, lifting my head, but lower it. Just standing next to her, knowing she’s munching on my life in her mind is worse than the interrogation. Worse than talking to my father. Now, I wouldn’t even want to know what he’s thinking of.

But she mentioned she has to look again. Does that mean she doesn’t remember it all?

I turn away and lean against the wall in the corridor so I don’t have to face her. She has powers… After two months a little switch in my head clicks at last and I know what I have to do.

Sevina struts to the bathroom and brings me a towel and a pair of weathered, dark combat pants. “These should fit.”

“Thank you.” I take them from her hands and crack an apologetic half-smile. “I ate your crackers.”

“I know.”