Chapter 30: Fight or Flight

“Alright, rest time,” Jack called out, panting and struggling not to double over. They’d run almost three miles, and now they were making their way through a shopping district, with stores on both sides of the street. It was just before ten p.m. so activity was dying down. There were still quite a few parked cars pulled up to various Delis, video stores, and laundromats, though far less than there would’ve been an hour earlier.

“M-maybe this … maybe, maybe this was a bad … bad idea,” Jack panted. He gasped for breath. “You know what? It totally was.” He stopped running and leaned over, sucking in air through giant breaths. Jack hoped they’d catch the criminals within a few blocks, yet here they were, three miles away and still in pursuit.

Jack yelped as Melissa unexpectedly kicked him in his butt. “This was your idea, Jack, you made us chase after you, and now you just want to give up? No way—you picked your poison, now drink it.”

Paro nodded in approval. “We’ve already broken protocol by leaving the scene of a crime with injured to pursue hostile Psychs, so now we’re making the best of it. Jack, we’re here because of you, got it? Now move it, Harris!”

Jack inhaled one more giant lungful of air, enjoying his brief respite, before he forced himself to charge forward yet again. At first, he had outrun all of them except Melissa, his legs fueled by his use of Reinforcement. It lasted for a good mile, but when the power ran out, he found that he couldn’t draw more of it while running, like everyone else seemed to be able to do. Also, unless it was an emergency death situation, Jack needed to “work” himself up to the draw. It was because of that awful feeling, forcing him to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable discomfort. The team wasn’t giving him the time to work up to it, and so now they were practically dragging him along.

They ran through the shopping district, making an echoing, clicking sound as six sets of feet kicked down on the concrete. It was now the only thing that could be heard besides the occasional passing of a car. Sarah claimed to be following the trail of the three Psychs, but Jack could see no sign of them. She was sweating profusely with her face turned downward to stare at the ground.

“Left,” she breathed.

Paro had once again taken charge, now in the lead of all of them. He directed them to the left, across a narrow one-way street. The rest followed close behind. Jack wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but seeing the way Paro was so quick to take command, Jack was coming to realize that Paro had intended this all along.

A team-leader, or captain, or whatever Paro was, wouldn’t be able to order his team to pursue fleeing criminals, not when there were injured around, that much Jack had gathered from listening to their conversations. But when Jack had started running away, Paro had more than enough power to stop him in his tracks. However, when Jack ran off he had only sighed and followed along. Paro needed an excuse, a reason to disobey protocol, and Jack had given it to him. Once again, Paro had outsmarted Jack, and now he couldn’t even complain about the exhausting run. He had basically asked for it.

Down the narrow street, Paro led them through yet another narrow street with three-story apartment complexes on both sides. The street was empty, save for an old homeless man wheeling a cart. He stopped wheeling for a moment and looked at them, before deciding that Paro and the gang were of no interest to him, returning to once again wheel along.

“Wait!” Sarah yelled. “Down there.”

Paro stopped short, causing Jack to almost bump into him. “Down where, Sarah?”

She pointed to a manhole cover that Paro was standing on. “They went into the sewers.”

Jack looked at the manhole cover under Paro’s foot. Even from where he was standing, he could smell the stench of raw sewage seeping out of it.

“Well,” Jack began, “I guess we’ll just have to let them get away this time.”

Melissa glared at him. “Don’t even start, Jack. You know damned well we’re going after them.”

Jack tensed. “Melissa, don’t be ridiculous. There’s peepee and poopoo and bacteria, and God knows what else flowing down there. I’d rather die than have to walk through that.”

She rolled up her sleeve and made a fist. “Well, you’re in luck, because I might just take you up on that offer.”

Kazou shook his head. “Jack, do you remember why we’re doing this? Keep that in the front of your mind at all times and the sewage will not bother you. Try and remember the faces of all the people those three have killed.”

Jack thought on it and found that in some way, Kazou was right. Thinking of Jonathan’s ruined dreams, the slaughter of an entire family, even the children … it was almost enough to make Jack leap down there ahead of everyone—almost.

Paro backed up. Michael made a squeezing gesture with his hand, and the manhole cover was ripped off, flying into the air and landing several feet away from them.

“Do all Psychs have their own like, thing they do?” Jack asked. “Like, Michael squeezes his hand into a fist, Sarah looks down, and that one guy … damn! I just knew his name like, two minutes go. Was it Rembrant? Whatever, that guy makes it look like he’s karate chopping the air. Do a lot of Psychs do this?”

Paro answered, “I never thought I’d say this to you, Jack, but you truly are very astute. In fact, it’s almost hard to believe, considering how … lacking you are in other areas. Yes, many Psychs, myself included—but not all—have their own little quirks. It helps them focus.”

Jack didn’t seem to have any quirks, but he knew he wanted one. His mind raced with ideas. Maybe he would do a back flip before using Telekinesis?

No, he thought. I know what would be so totally awesome! I should call out my attacks like in an anime. But wait, then they would know what I was gonna do. Oh, I know! I’ll clap my hands together and slam them into the ground, like on that show ‘Full Metal Alchemist’. But wait, that takes too long. Ah well, I’ll figure it out later.

Michael winked at Jack. “Bud, I reckon you should cover your nose,” he said, tipping his cowboy hat. He was the first to leap down.

Paro followed, but not before he turned to look at Melissa. “You go last, Melissa. Make sure Jack actually follows along. This’ll teach him not to volunteer himself on cases.”

She nodded. “Got it, Paro.” Paro leaped down, followed by Sarah, and then lastly Kazou.

“Remember, Harris,” Kazou said, placing one hand on the ladder leading into the sewer. “Keep your mind on why we’re here.” He let go of the ladder and dropped down.

Jack walked over to the sewer entrance—and tried not to vomit. Looking down into the darkness, he felt the first pinch of fear. Even from above ground, the stench was too much to handle. Jack thought of something funny, and being the impulsive person he was, he said it without thinking. It was something that, if given even another moment’s thought, he wouldn’t dare say.

“Hey, Melissa,” he joked. “It smells like you down in that—”

She pushed him, and he screamed, flailing his arms as he barely had time to catch onto the slippery ladder. He slid down to land with a thud on the moist sewer floor. The smell was horrible. “Pee-yew!”

Melissa didn’t bother to use the ladder, and much like Kazou, she jumped down landing softly on her feet. Jack wondered if anything could hurt a Reinforcer.

It was dark, almost blindingly so. It looked like an underground maze to Jack. The sewers connected and ran for miles, twisting and turning, occasionally leading into other sewers. He really hoped the team knew what they were doing.

“Hey, did you guys ever notice that just about every Final-Fantasy game had a part where you had to go through sewers? I always got lost on those parts and had to fight a million random encounters, I can’t tell you guys how many times I used to call Adam over for help.” No one responded to him, making Jack feel sad and unappreciated.

“How far, Sarah?” Paro asked.

Sarah pointed. “They’re about a half-mile ahead of us. They know we’re still chasing.”

Paro tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Alright, let’s go.” Paro ran into the distance, taking out his phone while he sped through the sewers.

Jack was exhausted. He didn’t think he’d make it another half-mile, especially not in this disgusting place. Michael turned to him. “Jack, you need to draw some more power, and quick. You don’t want to get left behind down here.”

Jack moaned. “Just go without me. I’m exhausted. I’ve got nothing left to give.”

“Nonsense, bud. Go on, I know you don’t like it, but give it one more go. I promise ya there’ll be no more running afterwards.”

Jack closed his eyes and prepared himself for the sickening feeling. He hesitated and realized after a moment that if he didn’t do it soon, he’d never work up the will again. He drew the power into himself, feeling the nauseating, uncomfortable sensation. It was worse than the feeling of a thousand spiders crawling on your face.

Once again he searched for the trigger. He’d been lucky the first time, but now he remembered where to find it. It seemed that some things were easier to locate than others. Some Telekinetic stuff was easy, like pushing things, but grabbing was harder to find. The thing that let him draw power into his legs was the easiest thing Jack had discovered so far. For a moment, it almost seemed worth the disgusting draw, as the wonderful feeling of empowerment went through his legs.

“Michael, how do you keep yourself going? You’re not a Reinforcer.”

“There’s a reason they send us to boot-camp, Jack. There are things we need to be able to do without using our natural Psych affinities. I can only do very basic stuff in the other affinities, which is usually the case for most Psychs, excluding only you and Paro that I know of. I’ll never be able to run as fast or for as long as Kazou or Melissa, but I reckon I can still keep myself going longer than the average human.”

“What’s boot-camp? Actually, you know what? I don’t even care. Let’s just get out of this yucky place.”

They caught up to Melissa, Kazou, and Paro. It was now so dark that Jack couldn’t see more than a foot or two in front of him. They were following Paro based on sound alone and listening for the audible splashes as feet smashed into what Jack prayed was only water.

There was a squeak, and Jack knew that there were rats around. He hoped they’d reach wherever they were going soon. Somewhere in front of him, Jack heard Paro mumble into his phone, but he couldn’t make out what was being said.

He felt something touch his shoulder, and he came close to screaming.

“Jack,” said Melissa. “How are you holding up? I never thought I’d see you use Reinforcement. If you’ve got any questions just ask me.”

“I thought you were a rat, Melissa. No, wait! Don’t slap me—that’s not what I meant. I’m just kinda afraid of rats, and I felt you touch my shoulder.”

She laughed. “Oh, is that what it was?”

Even having run for miles, Melissa didn’t seem to be breathing heavily. There was not a single bead of sweat on her face, which Jack could barely make out in the scant light as she ran beside him in the dark sewer. Jack was no longer sweating either, now that his legs were wrapped with the power of Reinforcement.

“Jack, there’s something I want to ask you, and I want you to tell me the truth,” Melissa said. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I really need to know.”

Jack turned to Melissa and looked into her eyes. There was something different about her. She looked worried, like she was bringing up something painful. She even slowed down, holding Jack’s arm so he’d slow down with her. Whatever it was that was bothering her, she was taking it seriously.

“What’s wrong?” Jack answered in a whisper. He kept his voice low, just loud enough for her to hear it. She clearly didn’t want them to be overheard. Melissa looked both ahead of her and over her shoulder before continuing.

“Do you remember when we fought back in H.Q?”

Jack smiled, and he almost regretted it, because he kicked on the ground too hard and a splash of murky sewage water rose almost to the level of his mouth.

“Yeah,” he whispered back. “Don’t think I forgot about that date, either.”

She smiled for a moment before her expression turned solemn. “How much … of your power were you using?” she asked. “Towards the end, I mean, before Paro told us to tone it down. Was it close to half?”

Jack tried to remember. He recalled that he’d allowed just a drop more power in than he usually did, and with a shudder, he remembered feeling like it would kill him.

“Hmm,” Jack whispered. “I’m not sure how to answer.”

Melissa glanced around once again to make sure they were far enough away not to be overheard. Then she spoke, but in an even quieter whisper, and Jack had to strain to hear her.

“I’m pretty powerful among Psychs, Jack. For the average Psych, they draw power from a source that’s something that’s like a cup of water. For me, it’s more like a bowl. For someone like Paro, I’d be willing to bet it’s almost as large as a puddle. How much did you draw, Jack?

Jack thought about the question and realized that it made a lot of sense to think about it in those terms. “I see what you’re asking. I’d say it was only small drop, like what comes out of dripping faucet. Just a tiny amount and even that felt terrible.”

There was a long pause before Melissa spoke again, during which she and Jack ran side-by-side in the darkness. For the first time, she was breathing heavier and sweat was finally beginning to show on her forehead. Somehow, Jack didn’t think it was because of the run.

“Jack,” she said in a nervous whisper. “A small drop, but out of how much? Tell me, please.”

Jack decided there was no reason to lie. “I don’t know how Psychs normally measure these things, but I guess, hmm, maybe the ocean?”

“What!” Paro’s voice shouted from ahead of them. He had stopped and within a few moments, Melissa and Jack had caught up to him. There was an awkward silence as they stood in the darkness, but through the occasional shadows cast from the streetlights above, Jack could see a look of disbelief on Paro’s face. Michael and Sarah seemed as if they were about to faint, while Kazou kept his usual stern, stone-faced expression.

Paro grabbed Jack’s shoulders. “Are you serious, Jack? About what you just told Melissa, I mean.”

Jack frowned at him. “I don’t know how you did it, but eavesdropping isn’t polite, Paro.” Upon hearing this, Sarah turned away with a look of guilt, glancing at something in the distance. “You’re going to learn that everything is my business, Jack, especially when it comes to Psychs on my team. Now, answer me, was what you just said the truth?”

Jack shrugged. “I guess.”

Kazou walked between them. “Is now the time for this conversation?” he asked.

Paro flinched and shook his head. “You’re right, Kazou,” he said, releasing Jack’s shoulders. “Sarah, how far?”

“Just ahead, make a right here and head up the next ladder.”

Paro led them down one last stretch of sewer, until finally they arrived at the ladder that would lead them out of it. Never in Jack’s life had he been so glad to see a ladder. Before any of them could make a move, Jack was already charging at it, scrambling up. As the distance between him and the sewer grew, he felt more and more at ease.

They emerged into another part of town, about a mile away. It took Jack a moment to get his bearings, but he realized they were in Anker town, not far from where Jonathan had died.

Jonathan, Jack thought. I’m sorry you didn’t get to be what you wanted. I’ll try to make things right.

Paro looked at his watch and then turned to Sarah. “Now how far?”

“They’re moving much faster than before, so they’re definitely not on foot anymore, but if we don’t hurry up we’ll lose them.”

As if in answer to their desperation, bright headlights approached in the distance, almost blinding Jack. Pulling up alongside them was a van very similar to the one Requiem had gone inside of to fetch him the rabbit.

The Rabbit! We left it on the side of the road.

The side door to the van slid open, and Paro rushed everyone inside. Nineteen recon officers in full T.A.C gear, armed with assault rifles and bulletproof vests were waiting for them. Each one gave Jack a dirty look for some reason. He recognized quite a few of them. They had been there the day Andy was captured.

The van only remained motionless for about fifteen seconds, as Paro threw everyone inside and ordered the driver to get a move-on. “Hurry!” he yelled. “Sarah is going to lose the trace—drive as fast as you can.”

The sudden lurch of acceleration was far more than Jack had expected. He tripped and fell then braced himself for a rough fall on his back. When he didn’t hit the ground, he smiled up into the face of Melissa, almost carrying him in her arms.

“Thanks, Melissa.” She pushed him off, and he sat down to fasten his seatbelt. The vehicle picked up even more speed, and Jack prayed they didn’t get into an accident along the way.

*****

“Where did they go?” Deven asked Alana while the medics patched her up and placed an icepack on her forehead. The Harris residence was now teeming with activity, over twenty emergency personnel, all ‘normal’ men who worked for the Psych-organization. They did their best to help collect evidence, care for the wounded, and clean the place up. They were the General’s own personal men.

Alana grabbed Deven’s shoulder, gripping him by the tattooed general’s insignia and pulling herself up into a sitting position. Deven had to admit, she was one tough woman.

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” she said with remorse. “But it was life or death.”

Deven looked over to the massacred Op. team member, Julian Santos, once a powerful Telepath, now nothing more than a dead body.

“Alana, where did the rest of Cemmera’s team go? They aren’t here.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Hopefully, they went to hell.”

Deven laughed uproariously. “Still with the dark humor I see, Alana.”

She grabbed his other shoulder and lifted herself back to her feet. Deven watched as anger replaced her sadness. She looked around at her ruined home.

“What’s going to happen to me now? They’ll kill me for what I’ve done. I’ll be sentenced to death for sure. For a civilian to attack and kill a member of a Psych team … what crime could be worse?”

Deven tried to remain straight-faced, but he couldn’t help but grin. “How do you figure, Alana? It was him who committed the serious crime of attacking a general.”

Alana made a sour face. “General? I quit ten years ago. What are you on about, Deven?”

Deven’s grin widened. “Yes, you did quit ten years ago, and a wonderful retirement you had. I still wonder why you gave it all up, coming into my office yesterday and reenlisting. But who can tell?”

Alana gave him a reproachful look. “Deven, tell me you didn’t.”

He reached into his pocket and revealed the document, showing her the blood-seal. “But I did, General Alana Harris, welcome back.”

Alana’s face contorted, going from anger, to confusion, finally settling on unfiltered amusement. “It’s this or death, isn’t it?”

Deven shrugged. “Do you really want to find out?”

He braced himself. What he had to say next was going to sting. Most of the Psych Generals were serious, uptight people, lacking any sense of humor whatsoever. Alana and Deven had been the only two generals back in the day willing to mingle, and on occasion even party with those who’d served under them. He was glad to have the woman back—even if it was against her wishes—her playfulness and humor made her the only general he’d ever really liked—the only general that was similar to him.

When she saw his expression, she definitely knew what he had to say was going to be bad. “Out with it,” she demanded.

“Rose has had another vision, Alana. It was about your son.”

As he spoke the words to her, she fell to her knees and looked at him with pleading eyes. “That’s not the life I want for him,” she begged.

Deven spoke with genuine sympathy. “But it’s the one the world is going to need. Without him … God help us all.”