Flux (The Flux Series Book 1) Read online

  Chapter Seven

  I waited until we’d made it around the corner before I stopped and turned to Hunter. I put my hands on my hips as I faced him. “What was with all the stalking and sneaking around? Why couldn’t you have just come up to me and spoken to me like a regular person?”

  “Well, for one, we’re not regular people. But the main reason is some people don’t react too well to the change.”

  “What do you mean ‘they don’t react too well’?”

  “They don’t deal with the change in how their brain works.”

  I cocked my eyebrows. “You mean they think they’re going insane?”

  He gave an awkward half shrug.

  “Or thought they were being haunted by their dead sister’s ghost?” I added.

  He winced. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  “So, who do you want me to meet?”

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” he said without cracking a smile.

  “Har har,” I deadpanned back. A jolt of unease jerked through me. “Seriously, though, you’re not actually planning on killing me?”

  “No, Ari. I’m not.”

  He probably wouldn’t have told me if he was, but I guessed if I planned on going with him, I’d have to wait to see if he was telling the truth.

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s not something I can accurately put into words.”

  I lifted my eyebrows. “Seriously?”

  “This place is a secret. You can never tell anyone about it. Ever.” His tone had grown stern, and he held my gaze with his own, making me feel like I was shrinking in its strength.

  “Ooh … kay.”

  He must have caught the hesitation in my voice. “I mean it, Ari. You can’t even tell your father. This is purely about us.”

  “Us?”

  “Yes. You, me, and all the others like us.”

  “I won’t tell, I promise.”

  I wasn’t sure exactly what I was promising not to tell, but it felt like the right thing to do. I hurried along beside him as we left my street, him taking long strides, so I practically had to break into a jog to keep up. We joined a small group of people waiting at the cable car stop. At this time in the morning, people were already heading in to work, and more joined us in the short time we waited.

  Barely a minute passed before a car arrived and we all got on. I looked up at Hunter’s face, trying to get an inkling as to where we were going, but he ignored me, instead hanging on to one of the poles. The bell dinged above my head, making me jump. The route took us down the steep hill toward the ocean. I hoped we weren’t going to be heading back to the piers, where the bombing had happened. The thought of being so close to the location had my heart doing that panicky little flutter I’d almost started getting used to.

  The car came to a stop and Hunter grabbed my hand. He pulled me through the group of people hanging like monkeys from the leather loops from the roof, and down the couple of steps and out onto the street. Still not speaking, we walked a little farther, keeping the bay on our right, and then jumped on a bus.

  “Where are we going?” I tried to ask Hunter again, but he ignored me. I tried to piece things together myself, but, other than knowing we were heading toward the bridge, I had no idea. A part of me was tempted to refuse to go any farther until he told me, but if this came down to a stalemate, he was going to win. He had all the answers, and I had nothing.

  The bus was packed, so we stood near the front, jammed in with all the commuters. I faced the front of the bus, with Hunter directly in front of me. Our bodies were merely inches apart, causing heat to bloom in my cheeks.

  Hunter glanced behind me, over my shoulder, then ducked his head away, a frown marking his forehead.

  A prickle of unease ran up my skin. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “Don’t look back, but I think we’re being watched.”

  Automatically, I twisted to glance over my shoulder. I caught sight of a serious-looking man in his mid-thirties, dressed in a black suit, who was staring directly at us.

  Hunter grabbed my arm and yanked me back around. He leaned in and spoke low in my ear. “Don’t let him know we’ve seen him. We’ll get off at the next stop.”

  Having him so close sent my heart racing. That, together with the fact someone was watching us.

  The bus pulled in at a stop, and Hunter snatched up my hand again to tug me off. My feet hit the sidewalk, and he didn’t even give me time to pause, but hurried down the street, dragging me with him. I had to break into a trot to keep up.

  He glanced back. “Ah, shit.”

  “What?” I twisted my neck, following his line of sight to see the man in the black suit also disembark. He was focused on us, his walk hurried.

  Hunter paused, so briefly it could almost have been mistaken as a stumble, and dropped my hand. His face took on a stern expression of concentration. From outside a café lining the road, a sandwich board flipped into the air, as though caught in a high wind, and flew toward the man, forcing him to leap out of the way.

  “Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand again. We broke into a run.

  “Did you do that?” I asked between gasps of breath. I was fairly fit from all the waitressing—not that I’d even done that for the past few weeks—but I didn’t run anywhere, and it showed.

  He shot me a look. “What do you think?”

  “Shit.”

  Things suddenly felt like they’d gotten real.

  We were on the Shoreline Highway now, running along the sidewalk that would shortly turn into the walkway across the bridge. The vast expanse of the Golden Gate Bridge stretched out across the water. It was an unusually clear day, bright blue sky reaching across the horizon, out to Lime Point and beyond. The Golden Gate National Recreation Area was below us, on our right hand side, and we were about to run over Fort Point.

  “Did we lose him?” I gasped.

  “I don’t know, but there will be more. We can’t let him see where we’re headed.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Across the bridge.”

  I wanted to ask a million questions—who was the man in black? Why were there going to be more of him? What did he want? What was on the bridge? But instead I found I was running again, with Hunter pulling me along by my hand. I hadn’t even had the chance to grab coffee yet this morning, and my body was not up to this, never mind being able to talk while I ran. Instead, I concentrated on trying to breathe and stopping my heart from bursting out of my chest like something from an Alien movie.

  Wisps of fog like smoke crept across the bridge in front of us.

  Fog on the bridge was far from unusual, but the rest of the bay was still a stretch of blue sky. As I ran, I glanced over at Hunter. He had that slight frown on his face which he had when he’d made the sandwich board move in front of the black-suited man, though he continued to run alongside me.

  The wisps had thickened into a cloud, so it trailed around our feet then rose higher. It entwined around the struts and cables, growing denser by the second.

  I glanced at Hunter, confused. Where was this coming from?

  The drivers on the bridge began to switch their fog lights on so they were able to see the way. I threw a hurried glance behind me, partially to see if the man in black was still following us, but discovered the view of the city behind had vanished. Now all I saw was a white cloud.

  How far had we run? Were we even halfway across the bridge yet?

  “Hunter,” I gasped. “What’s happening?”

  “We need the fog,” he said back, but his breathing wasn’t as labored as mine. I guessed he’d normally be able to run faster if he didn’t have me holding him back. “So they can’t see us doing it.”

  “Can’t see us doing what?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Had he somehow made the fog? Called it in, or something? This was insane, I thought for the hundredth time that week.

  We kept going. It was unnerving t
o put one foot in front of the other when I wasn’t able to see more than a few feet in front of us. I heard cars go by us on the bridge, saw the fog turn golden from the headlights, but nothing more.

  Hunter suddenly pulled me to a halt and dragged me to one side. We were at the edge of the bridge, standing right up against the railings. Below us was the drop to the San Francisco Bay—not that we could see it due to the mass of swirling fog around us. I wondered if the fog was localized to the bridge, or if the whole bay was covered. I had the feeling it was just here, only where Hunter wanted it to be.

  “Come on,” he told me, and lifted a leg to climb onto the top of the railings.

  My heart stopped. “No way.”

  “This is the only way. It’s safe, I swear to you. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

  “What are you suggesting here? That we jump?”

  “We have to.” He gave my arm another tug, encouraging me up. “That man will be here soon, and I guarantee he’ll have company. If he gets hold of you, jumping off the side of a bridge with me will seem like a walk in the park.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  I considered telling him no and making a run for it, but I’d seen the man in the black suit coming after us, and I definitely didn’t want to be caught by him.

  “We’ll die,” I squeaked.

  “We won’t. I promise you. I’ve done this a hundred times before. You’ll be fine.”

  My legs trembled beneath me. All I could think of was the icy water below and the jagged cliff face beside us. I couldn’t see what we were about to jump into, but I knew from the number of times I’d walked over this bridge that it is what I’d see if I could. We were so close to the other side; we could be off the bridge again within minutes if we kept going.

  I said as much to Hunter, but he shook his head. “They’ve probably got people waiting at the end for us, and if they don’t, they’ll still catch us. This is the only way.”

  “They?” I yelled at him. “Who the hell are they?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled me up so I stood on the railings beside him. My legs felt wobbly and weak beneath me. His fingers tightened around mine. The wind buffeted my body, threatening to push me over. Fear brought tears to my eyes, my heart lodging like a rock in my throat. I couldn’t believe I was actually considering doing this. Was I suicidal? No, I wanted to live, but I couldn’t live with myself if I walked away from this. Besides, by the look of the man who had been after us, there might be far worse danger waiting for me.

  “We have to jump, Ari. Are you ready?”

  I stared down into the nothingness before me. All I could see was a rolling white cloud. The city on the other side of the bridge had vanished, and the bridge itself was only visible via the few struts right beside us. The rest had been swallowed in the fog.

  “Yes,” I managed to squeak. “I’m ready.”

  “Then jump!”

  I held tight to his hand and we both launched ourselves forward into the blank void. I had a moment where I thought, ‘I shouldn’t have done that,’ but then all thoughts were overtaken by the pummeling of air against my face and body, snatching the breath from my lungs. My clothing rippled around me, flapping in the wind. The noise was overwhelming—like being caught inside a bed sheet in a storm. I’d only been falling for a matter of seconds and I braced myself to hit the water, knowing it would be so cold it would make my body go into shock.

  But that didn’t happen. Instead, the air rippling around my body no longer blew upward around my face. I seemed to be on a kind of invisible slide, the fog still obscuring my vision.

  Then my feet hit solid ground.

  Hunter was obviously more prepared for this than I was and landed with a couple of running steps forward, staying on his feet. I lost my grip on his hand and pelted forward, curling my body inward so I ended up doing a roly-poly across the stony ground. My breath gasped in and out of my lungs when I finally came to a standstill—or at least a sit still. I felt battered and dizzy and confused, but very much alive. The fog was still present, but it wasn’t so dense down here, and I could see I was sitting on the tiny cove of beach at the bottom of the cliff that led up to Lime Point.

  Hunter’s hand on my back made me look up. “Are you okay?”

  I managed to nod. “What the hell was that?”

  “We’re telekinetic, Ari. We can control things with our minds, and in some of our cases that can mean our natural surroundings as well.”

  “The fog?” I said.

  He nodded. “Yes, and the air. I was able to use it to slow our fall and sweep us over this way. Think of it like a miniature twister I was able to control. It formed a tunnel around us and I nudged it in the right direction.”

  My mouth was open. “If I hadn’t seen what I’d already seen, I’d be calling bullshit on you right now.”

  He grinned and offered me his hand. “And I wouldn’t blame you. Now, come on. We’ve still got a little way to go.”

  I wondered how we were going to go anywhere. The only people who would be able to make it round to this side of the cliff were people in boats or the occasional surfer. The fog was starting to clear now—though it still clung to the bridge. I figured that was down to Hunter as well. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see how we made our getaway.

  My legs were still shaky beneath me as I took his hand and allowed him to pull me to my feet. I brushed the sand and stones from the seat of my jeans with my other hand.

  “So, where now?” I asked.

  He nodded toward the cliff face. “Right there.”

  “Huh? It’s just a cliff.”

  He grinned knowingly. “No, it isn’t. You’ll see.”

  He led the way and we clambered over the rocks. To me, it looked as though we were walking directly into a sheer cliff face. I hoped he wasn’t going to make me scale it, or conjure up some other weird weather phenomenon to throw us back up to the top of it.

  “Where are we going? I can’t see anything,” I asked again.

  “It’s right here.”

  I moved farther forward, clambering over more rocks, my feet slipping, especially as my legs were still shaky. But then, when I was almost nose to cliff-face, I saw what he was talking about. What had previously looked like a part of the cliff, was actually a small cave with a large chunk of rock overhanging the front, which hid the cave from view of anyone who might be passing—not that there was much foot traffic around here.

  “We’re going in there?” I asked.

  “Yep.”

  I couldn’t see what could possibly be interesting about a cave. In fact, cave was probably too glamorous of a description. It was barely head height, but did appear to be deep.

  “Who the hell are we supposed to be meeting in there?”

  “Just follow me.”

  Hunter led the way, slipping behind the overhanging rock and ducking to enter the cave. I followed, peering into the dark, not wanting to lose sight of him. The roof was jagged and uneven, and though it was above my head in height, I found myself curling forward, worried I’d crack my skull on something.

  As he moved deeper, I realized my assumption of this being a cave had been wrong.

  It was a tunnel.

  We were in almost pitch black now, and I reached out both hands either side of me, my fingertips skirting cold, damp rock, terrified I’d trip and crack my skull open. The panic of claustrophobia rose inside me.

  “Hunter …” I said, a tremor to my voice.

  “It’s okay,” his voice came back, echoic and hollow. “Just a couple more steps …”

  I’d hoped that would mean we’d emerge wherever it was we were supposed to be, but instead I heard the scrape of flint, and a flame lit the narrow space. There were candles in holders attached to the rock walls, and Hunter took one down, lit it, and handed it back to me.

  “Here, it’ll be better with a couple of these lit.”

  He was right. It was better, but only marginally.

&
nbsp; The candle flame flickered and guttered, casting menacing shadows across the rock—looming shapes that could have been monsters, but were actually just our own distorted shadows. Hunter still looked good, perhaps even more so in the candlelight. All brooding dark looks and mysterious powers.

  We kept moving forward, keeping our heads ducked low, though it was easier now we could see. I tried not to let myself be distracted by Hunter’s rear end being quite so close to my face, focusing instead on not tripping again and landing on my face.

  “How much farther?” I asked him, my voice not much above a whisper. I didn’t know why I felt the need to be quiet, but I did. I tried not to think about the millions of tons of rock above our heads, how, if we had the slightest earthquake, we could end up crushed in here and no one would ever find us. My thoughts went to my father, and I felt a sudden desperate need to let him know where I was and that I was safe. I had a feeling my cell phone wasn’t going to work this deep in the rock.

  “Another five minutes. Maybe ten.”

  “How far into the rock does the tunnel go?”

  “All the way,” came the reply.

  I didn’t know how to answer that.

  I continued to follow Hunter’s back, then a light brightened ahead of us and my heart leapt.

  “We’ve arrived,” he told me over his shoulder.

  I had no idea what we’d arrive to.

  Chapter Eight

  We emerged from the tunnel, Hunter leading the way.

  I stopped short and stared at our new surroundings, my eyes bugging.

  “What is this place?” I hissed at him.

  We’d stepped into a large space, brightly lit with synthetic light. In contrast to the natural rock we’d made our way through, this place was all chrome, glass, and polished concrete floors. It appeared to be one main room, with a number of other rooms adjoining it.

  “This is our training center—the Cavern. It’s the place where we learn how to use our skills.”

  “Our training center?”

  “Yes, the training center for me and the rest of the Kin.”

  I looked at him, knowing my face was a blank. “The Kin?”