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Chapter 2
Amy's eyelids fluttered, and she caught glimpses of sea green and chrome. Her body hurt, though her head was surprisingly clear. She sighed, and her eyelids closed again as the room began to spin. Sometime later, her eyes flickered again. This time, she managed to hold them open.
She was in a hospital; that much was clear. For one, blissful moment, she couldn't think of why that might be. And then, it all came back. She sat up like a shot, much to the dismay of her aching body, her heart pounding in her chest. Her right hand jerked back, and she looked down to see it handcuffed to the rail of her hospital bed. She pulled on her arm again, but the chain just pulled taut.
Trying to quell the panic quickly rising in her chest, she looked around the room. It was small, with a window next to her bed and two large windows next to her door, with the curtains pulled in front of them. Through the thin white material, she could see two people standing in front of the windows outside of her door.
The door to her room opened, and an older nurse entered Amy's room. She paused for a moment, looking at Amy as though she were surprised to see her sitting upright. A dark look passed over her face before she smoothed it out again, and her eyes turned from Amy's face to the monitors she was connected to.
"Please," Amy said, watching her, "please tell me what's going on."
The nurse ignored her, lifting one of the IV bags before dropping it back down. It was as if she couldn't hear her, but Amy could see her stiffen with every word she said. Tears filled her eyes.
"Please, just... just tell me what's wrong with me?" she begged, beginning to cry.
Still, the nurse said nothing. She turned and walked toward the door, her back as stiff as a board. Amy sobbed. "PLEASE!" she yelled.
The nurse paused, and then turned. Amy recoiled at the look of blind anger and hatred on the woman's face. "As if you didn't know, mutant," she spat. Amy's sobs shuddered to a halt as she stared back at the nurse, who abruptly turned on her heel and jerked open the door of the room. She slammed it shut behind her, and the lock turned audibly.
Mutant?
Amy felt her chest constricting more and more tightly. Mutant? It wasn't possible. She had seen some of the reports on the news in the last few months. Reports of destruction and chaos from across the country. One girl had spontaneously erupted fireworks inside a mall on the east coast. Another used super speed to rob banks across the country. There were even tales of mutants who could impersonate other humans.
It wasn't possible... was it?
Outside of her window, Amy saw the nurse talking with the two men who had been standing beside her door. One of them gestured, and the nurse rushed off quickly, and she saw their silhouettes turn to glance at her window.
Frantically, Amy started yanking at the handcuffs again. She had to get out of here, she just had to, there was no telling what they were going to do to her after what she had done-
Suddenly, she cried out in pain. Her wrist was suddenly in searing pain, and she looked down at the handcuffs, which had begun to glow orange as though they had been heated over a fire. In the middle of the chain, the link glowed even brighter, until they were white. Molten metal dripped onto the hospital bed, and suddenly, her arm was free.
Her wrist still burning, Amy leapt out of the hospital bed and ran to the sink inside the adjoining bathroom, turning the cold faucet on full blast and sticking her arm beneath it. The silver cuff cooled quickly and dangled on her arm like a bracelet, rubbing uncomfortably against the now raised, shiny pink burn.
The men outside of her room seemed to have noticed the commotion inside, and she heard the sound of a key in the lock. Amy looked around the room, looking for anything she could use to defend herself. There were no surgical tools or easily wieldable objects within arms reach. There was nothing.
The door opened, and two men in dark suits burst in, guns drawn.
"Stand down!" one of them yelled, hoisting his gun meaningfully.
Amy put her hands up. "Please-"
"STAND DOWN!" the second man yelled.
Throwing her arms out in front of her, there was suddenly a blast, and the two men were knocked backward into the door and wall, and the windows of her room shattered. There were screams in the hallway of the hospital, and Amy saw nurses and doctors in scrubs diving for cover.
Dressed in only a paper gown that was tied down her side, Amy began to run. She jumped over the two groaning men in the doorway, and into the hallway, which had devolved into chaos. No one seemed to be paying any attention to her. She ran down the hall until she found the doors to the stairs. Shoving it open, she ran into the stairwell, a sign notating she was on the third floor.
Quickly, she made it to the first floor, crowded with nurses and doctors who looked like they were beginning to evacuate patients from the hospital. Keeping her head down, her hair shielding her face, Amy entered the melee. She needed to change; she couldn't go out into the world in only a paper gown.
After a few tries, Amy found the shift changing room, empty. Each tall, blue locker had a padlock on it. She had a thought. Slowly, she approached the nearest locker, and took the padlock into the palm of her hand. Closing her eyes, she concentrated really, really hard, imagining the lock melting like the handcuffs in her hospital bed had. After a moment, she opened her eyes. The padlock remained, shiny and whole, in her hand.
The noises in the hallway were getting louder. In the distance, she could hear police sirens. Amy closed her eyes again. "Please, please, please," she murmured, gripping the lock.
Nothing. The only heat in the lock was from her sweaty grip on it. Amy threw it down and turned, running her hands through her hair. She could have wept in frustration and anger. She turned back and slammed her fists into the lockers, trying to resist the urge to give up then and there.
Suddenly, the doors on the lockers began to swing open. The only things holding the doors onto the lockers at all were the padlocks closed around the handles; it appeared the hinges themselves had melted.
The sirens were closer, now. Amy didn't have time to wonder what had happened. In the first locker was a brown sports coat and a pair of khakis. In the next, a blouse and a pair of jeans that were much too big for her. However, in the third locker, Amy found a pretty floral sundress and a pair of flats that were fairly close to her size. Stripping out of the paper gown, Amy dressed quickly, shoving the gown in a trashcan.
There was a purse in the locker where she found the dress. Biting her lip, Amy reached for it, opening the wallet inside. She found twenty-three dollars. Tossing the ID back into the locker, Amy went through the rest that had opened, looking for anymore cash. She had seen enough cop shows to know to leave the credit cards behind. When she had finished, she had just a little over $100. It would have to do.
She saw her face, lip split, bruised cheek, in the mirrors next to the showers. Mutant. Cringing, she turned away.
She slipped from the locker room into the crowded halls of the hospital. There seemed to be a general flow of people moving toward the main doors, and she fell into step in the middle of the crowd. The police standing at either side of the doors didn't see her as she left.
Evee didn't know what to do, she just kept running. She couldn't explain what just happened, what took over her. She just remembered the fear she had felt… and the screaming, the blood. The darkness. But that hadn't been the worst part, the part that had Evee running for her life. It wasn't the sudden flashing lights or the piercing sirens, either, although she kept trying to convince herself that was why she was running. But deep down, she couldn't deny it. And that was what scared her more than anything.
She had enjoyed it.
The darkness, however she was controlling it…felt…good. It made her feel better than she had in a long time. She had felt power and control, something sparked in her, a click. Somehow…she turned something on.
Evee didn't understand it, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. She just wanted it to go away, just forget about it and go back to her boring, mundane life.
No, you don't.
She stopped running and put her head in her hands, catching her breath. She dropped her hands to her knees and leaned against an alley wall, trying to think of what to do. The sirens had quieted some, she knew that by now they would have found Tyler and taken him to the hospital, try to figure out what had happened to him.
Then they would be looking for her.
Or would they? Evee couldn't even fully remember what had happened let alone make sense of it. Maybe Tyler wouldn't be able to, either. Maybe she would be safe.
Evee shook her head again. She might be, but he wouldn't be. Ever again. Whatever happened, whatever she did to him, Tyler would never be the same. That much, Evee knew for certain.
"I have to get home," Evee said to herself. The sun was setting - it was starting to get dark. Evee pressed her lips together. Maybe not straight home.
A small smile formed on her lips as she started to walk. She buried the fear and worry, saving it for morning. She could face her problems with the rising sun. But right now, her headache was gone and her nerves were calming. She took the long way home, just enjoying the crisp autumn air.
Evee slid the key into the lock and turned it slowly, quietly entering the third floor, two-bedroom apartment. It was after two and she didn't want to wake her mother, who worked early mornings. She snuck in, closing the door behind her quietly. Evee stopped in the kitchen and opened the fridge. There was a plate with ham, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Not bothering to warm it up, Evee took the plate over to the dining room table. There was a note at the table where she normally sat.
Evee –
There's a plate in the fridge. I'm going in early tomorrow morning and staying late, but I will be off Sunday and all next weekend.
Love, Mom
Evee sighed and began to eat. Her mother rarely took a day off; it seemed she was working all the time. They both did. If Evee wasn't at school, she was at the diner, nights and weekends, except for when she had the headaches. She was sure Mom had thought she was getting some extra hours in at the diner.
Evee's stomach dropped. She couldn't bury it anymore. The hair on her arms prickled, goose bumps traveling up her arms and down her spine. She could feel it climbing up her throat. She could literally feel it. Evee jumped up and sprinted into the bathroom, throwing herself over the toilet as she started to retch. She gasped for air in between heaves.
Finally, she could sit back. She took a deep breath and wiped her mouth with a piece of toilet paper. The temporary cool her walk had given her was long gone and the horror of what had happened was staring her right in the face.
What did I do?
A few minutes later, Evee washed up and threw out the rest of her food. She quickly loaded and started the dishwasher, and then went into her room, closing the door behind her.
What did I do? she thought again, sitting on her bed. She stared down at her hands, trying to put together some sort of explanation. But she couldn't come up with much. Whatever she did, it wasn't good. Evee sighed and kicked off her shoes. Whatever it was, she would have to figure it out in the morning. For now, she needed to try to sleep. There was a lot to do in the morning.
Evee slept like crap. She woke up nauseous, feeling exhausted, and with another headache. You'd think by now I'd be used to this shit, she thought sullenly. She stretched and sat up pulling the hair out of her face. She squinted at the light, her curtains were open. She whipped them closed, blocking some of the sun. That's better.
Before worrying about anything, the first thing Evee did was head to the shower. There wasn't a window in the bathroom, so the shining sun wouldn't bother her. She didn't bother waiting for the water to warm up before getting in, the cold always helped her wake up.
Unfortunately it helped her wake up to what was going on. Evee didn't really want to think about it, but she had to. She did something, something awful. She dreaded seeing the news, but she had to know just how bad things were. She hoped that whatever had happened, it was temporary. But she had a feeling that it wasn't. The thoughts brought up an image, a high school boy tearing at his skin, the bloodcurdling screams… it was going to stay with her forever. It would be the first thing she saw every morning.
Evee turned off the shower, grabbed a towel and dried off. She quickly brushed her teeth and combed her hair, and then went to get dressed. She dropped the wet towel on her bedroom floor and pulled on a pair of old, dark blue jeans, a dark blue lace tank top, and a fitted black button-up. She threw her hair up in a loose ponytail and sat at her desk, her laptop in front of her. Evee closed her eyes and took a deep breath. A moment later, she lifted the screen and turned it on.
It didn't take long to find an article: Local Athlete Admitted to Hospital - Police Seeking Witnesses. Evee's stomach dropped and she could barely breathe as she read the article. Being a minor, Tyler's name was left out, but it was obvious who they were referring to. An anonymous caller had heard the screaming and called the police. They found him covered in self-inflicted wounds, his screaming uncontrollable. He could not be consoled and resisted the paramedics. Eventually he was sedated and brought into the hospital, where he is receiving specialized care and is under evaluation. The police believed the incident was drug-related.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Drugs did this?" she muttered, reading on. The police did not have any other leads at this time. They were urging anyone with any information to come forward.
Evee sat back in her chair. So that was it. Whatever she had done, put a kid in the hospital. She took a deep breath and leaned forward, scrolling down the page to read the comments on the article.
There were a lot. Worried parents, concerned citizens. And high school gossip. There were a lot of people defending the drug comments, and a lot in favor of them. Evee scrolled through them, skimming them, searching. She froze, breath caught in her throat. Much to her dismay, Evee found what she was looking for. It was posted anonymously, but it had to be from one of the guys on the football team, friend Tyler had been with at the diner: "last i saw tyler he was leaving freddies after that freak left".
Evee could barely breathe. This was it. If one jock could make that connection, it wouldn't be long before the police did. They could be knocking on the door today.
She couldn't sit still. Evee stood and began pacing the room, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was racing, her blood pumping. It was difficult to breathe and the room was spinning. What do I do, what do I do!? She felt panicked, scared. And then the headache started.
"No, not again!" she exclaimed breathlessly, as her vision blurred and was replaced by something unexplainable.
A blonde teenaged girl running, panting. She was scared.
An older man yelling, grabbing her hair. Anger, fear.
A blinding bright light exploding, wiping everything out.
Green and chrome, a hospital. Metal melting.
Police searching, guns drawn.
The girl running, hiding. She's scared, so scared. Her face…blonde hair, bright blue eyes.
Evee gasped, falling to the floor. She took a moment to catch her breath, and then sat back. "What the hell?" she said aloud to herself.
She thought back to her vision, the girl. She wasn't sure why she had seen her, but knew they were alike, that there was something similar about them.
I've got to find her. Evee went back to her laptop and started searching. She didn't really know what she was looking for, or where she should be looking. This girl could be halfway across the country for all she knew.
"Oh my god," she whispered. She had found something. There was a house in Oregon that had been wiped off the map during an explosion. A teenage girl had been found unconscious on site and taken to the hospital, where she was in custody for questioning. A more recent article had the girl's yearbook photo and claimed her a fugitive, saying that she fled the premises after attacking several police officers.
Her name was Amelia Reed, and as of six hours ago, she was on the run.
The articles said one more thing. She was a mutant.
Mutant. Evee sat back and thought about the word. That had to be it. They were mutants.
Everyone had heard about mutants. People that had a variation in their genes, in their DNA, that gave them unique abilities or disfigurations. They were in the news on a daily basis. Some reports of mutants fighting for equal rights. Most reports were of dangerous mutants, mutants who were hurting people, even killing people. Evee didn't personally know any mutants, not that she knew of. But it seemed every day there were more and more of them. Her mom had told her some stories about mutants who came into the hospital seeking medical attention for difficult mutations, or humans who visited for mutant-inflicted wounds, but not many. She seemed to prefer to leave her work at work, troubling though it may be.
And she was one of them.
I have to find her, Evee thought. It was crazy, but she didn't know what else to do. It wouldn't be long before the police were looking for her, and she didn't really have anywhere else to go.
It was settled. Evee saw no other choice. She emptied the backpack she used for school and started filling it with clothes, her toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant and her laptop and charging cord. She took a large tote from her mother's room and filled it with things too. She didn't need much but she knew she needed to be well-prepared. She didn't have any credit or debit cards, but took her bus pass and passport. She emptied her glass bank and took the money from under her mattress and counted it. All together she had over $4000. She had been planning on buying a car in the next couple weeks. Evee hid most of the money deep in her bags and opened a notebook, scribbling a half-assed apology to leave for her mom to find whenever she got home from work. She left her about $600 with the note, her cell phone, and her key. She knew she could never go back.
Without a second thought, Evee left the apartment. I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought, closing the door behind her. Here goes nothing.
