Powers Enhanced

CHAPTER THREE-1

CHAPTER THREEThe Dream

I am so tired.

The thought echoes in my mind, but it’s not my own. I experience a moment of confusion, but my mind clears as my body moves under someone else’s direction.

Once more, I’m inhabiting the body of my dream-self, or Rett as I’ve nicknamed him. I feel our legs steadily lifting upwards, and experience the fatigued state of his muscles. I check his consciousness and our surroundings and immediately see the reason.

He’s been climbing stairs for over an hour. I see a sign on the wall that says Floor 38. No wonder he’s sore.

Sweat runs down our forehead and drips off our nose. I want to lift my hand to wipe it off, but as usual, I have no control over this body. I feel everything as if it’s happening to me, but Rett’s the one in control. So, it feels like it’s my legs about to fall off, but instead of resting, we’re plodding on.

The stairwell is dimly lit, with fluorescent tubes that flicker as we go by. The air is stale, like no one has breathed it in a decade. And even though I know it’s springtime outside, the temperature in here is a nice eighty degrees. No wonder sweat is pouring off our face like we’ve dumped water on our head.

We reach the thirty-ninth floor landing, and Rett turns to survey behind us.

The stairs spiral down for hundreds of feet, until they’re too small to make out. I can’t even see where they end.

Right behind us, Greggor and Elizabeth are still climbing. They’re still wearing those horrid blue-gray jumpsuits, that don’t seem to make anyone look good. The clothes are all sweat-stained around the necks and armpits. It looks like Greggor and Elizabeth are just as tired as Rett.

They both reach the landing we’re standing on, and Greggor leans heavily against the wall. “Are... we... sure... that ... this... is... the... right... address?” he wheezes slowly, his breath leaving his body in huge gasps.

“That’s what... the message... said,” we respond, our breathing coming a little easier. We’re in better shape than Greggor.

Elizabeth has her head down, hands on her side, also trying to catch her breath. “How much... further?”

We crane our head up, sticking it out beyond the railing. “Looks like... ten more stories,” we groan.

Greggor heaves out a huge sigh. “I really hope the entrance is closer than that. But knowing our luck....” He trails off, instead struggling to raise himself from the wall. We step forward, but Elizabeth reaches him first. She pulls on his arm, allowing him to leverage himself up. Rett smiles in response.

I have to mentally smile as well. For as long as I’ve been having these dreams, it’s been a not-very-well kept secret that Greggor has had a crush on Elizabeth. And now, it’s finally being reciprocated.

It probably started when Greggor saved Elizabeth from being horribly burned in the attack on our last base. Which is why we’re climbing these stairs instead of working on the mysterious Project that everyone is always talking about.

I reflect on the last few dreams I was in. Soldiers dressed in black uniforms with glowing purple armor, called the Shock Squad, had attacked our base. A lot of people had died in the attack, including Elizabeth’s mentor, Alice. Rett’s leg had been injured, and Greggor had covered Elizabeth when a fiery grenade had gone off.

Neither of us are injured now. Once we got out, we had gotten some supplies from a hiding place. That’s where we got the clothes, but we also used some medicine that was miraculous in how quickly it healed our wounds. It was almost as fast as my healing power.

That fact, along with the other dreams I had had, lets me know that I’m in a different place than where I’ve gone to sleep. We had walked out amidst the city, trying to find the safe house that would tell us where our next assignments were. I had viewed the aftermath of city-wide destruction. And then I had realized where we were.

Chicago. Or, really, New Chicago, as Rett calls it. Almost a completely different city than the one from where I had seen pictures. The Willis Tower had been knocked over. And a large black skyscraper dominated the shoreline of Lake Michigan.

The people are different, too. Masses of people walked the sidewalks, or crowded onto rundown buses. But there were also nice cars on the streets, driven by people Rett called Elites. People that received perks from the government and allowed certain freedoms. Like not needing to watch out for pedestrians.

We saw an expensive car slam into an older man and then take off. The driver didn’t even crack a window to see if he had just killed someone. And no one else stopped to help either. Rett had wanted to, but he would have stood out too much.

Instead, a van driven by two soldiers came by. I thought this would be the EMT response, but instead of administering any care, they had simply tossed the old man into the back. I was aghast at the lack of compassion. Big cities generally have a reputation for uncaring people, but I knew that no US city was this bad.

That was when Rett had had a flashback. And I had seen the attack on Chicago, of a younger Rett fleeing with his parents. Of them being separated while thousands of lightning bolts struck all around them. The memory had been terrifying.

And it told me who the head of the new government was. A man named Krysis, who could control energy. He was the one that had sent the lightning storm against a helpless population.

Rett had never found his parents. Instead, he had lived on the streets of Chicago, eking out a life as part of a gang of other lost kids.

Until Jarom had found him. The leader of the Resistance in Chicago had pulled him aside, and asked Rett to come work for him. Rett doesn’t know why Jarom picked him out. But he’s eternally grateful to him.

Rett, Greggor, and Elizabeth have all been working on a secret Project. I don’t know much about it, but I do know that it relates to my adrenal powers. They’ve discussed how certain frequencies can unlock hidden potential in the brain. They specifically have mentioned greater speed and strength.

I wish we had that now. It would make climbing these stairs that much easier. Of course, the power I’d want the most right now would be my new floating ability. I would just slide up the ceiling.

In a flash, I remember a previous dream. Rett had descended in an elevator below the normal floors of the building where the Resistance was hiding and working, and had found a new lab with an amazing discovery. It had been the power of antigravity.

I feel like pumping my fist in celebration at the connection. Now I know what’s causing my body to float. Somehow, I had been implanted with those antigravity devices that Amanda and Marcos had created.

Almost as if he can hear my thoughts, Rett begins worrying about Amanda. I had only seen a few interactions between them, but I know that he harbors more-than-just-friend's feelings for her.

He still doesn’t know if she had made it out before the Shock Squad locked down the entire building. He fervently hopes that she did, but he’s still worried. With my new gift from the fruit of her labors, I’m pretty confident she succeeded.

Rett doggedly shakes his head, dispelling the morbid thoughts from his brain. Worrying about Amanda won’t solve anything. To take his mind off of her, he starts trying to figure out how many stairs they’ve climbed.

We’ve just passed Floor 48, and he had counted off thirty-two steps to a flight. From my past experiences with him, he’s usually quick at doing mathematics. I saw him solve an equation in a few seconds that took three people the better part of a day to do.

But this time, the drain of so much physical exertion is making him sluggish. Using my yellow-cylinder intelligence, I could have told him that the answer was 1,536 stairs, but he wouldn’t have heard me anyway.

I can hear his thoughts, and access his memories when he has them in the forefront of his mind, but I’ve never detected a hint that he could hear me. I’m merely along for the ride.

Rett finally comes to the same number of steps that I did. He shakes his head, wondering if they’ll have to climb all the way to the top.

I return to my own thoughts. So, now I know how I received two of these powers. But I don’t know the why. Why had I been a baby? Why was I growing so quickly? And why was I chosen to receive these cylinders?

My life is still one big mystery. Add to that the fact that I never remember the dreams when I wake up. I’ll remember everything I just figured out the next time I visit Rett, but I’m left in the dark when I’m awake.

We turn the corner to go up yet another flight of stairs, but a large concrete wall halts us.

What should have been the first step of the next floor is instead a gray obstruction. All three of us stop, perplexed. There doesn’t seem to be a door or anything in the wall, and Rett’s confused as to what we should do.

Suddenly, we’re bathed in a harsh cyan light. We instantly shut our eyes, but I can still see the blue through our eyelids.

The light shuts off with an audible click, leaving us all temporarily blinded. And then we hear a voice behind us.

“You must be from Cell Eight.”

We all turn around to see an older woman standing on the landing below us. Her silvery-gray hair reflects some of the fluorescent lighting, and her purple blouse and black pants shout of home and comfort. I can tell that Rett is looking forward to changing out of this hated jumpsuit as soon as possible.

We slowly make our way back down the stairs, muscles aching. We draw even with the woman, who welcomes first Greggor, and then Elizabeth with a large smile.

However, when she looks at us, her blue eyes widen. Her hand goes to her mouth, and Rett and I both realize that it’s been badly burned in the past. Scar tissue and graft lines are still visible, though they’ve faded with age.

The woman takes a step backwards, obviously shocked at our appearance. “What’s the matter? Have we met before?” we ask, puzzled.

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. You just remind me strongly of my brother when he was your age.”

“Is he still around?” we ask compassionately. I’m surprised that Rett can muster that much emotion, considering our level of exhaustion.

The woman smiles sadly. “No, he died a long time ago. He was killed protecting a family from being murdered.”

“Oh, we’re sorry,” Elizabeth replies. “He sounds like a hero.”

The woman nods. “It’s true, he was. But you don’t have to feel pity for me; I made my peace with it long ago.” She looks each of us over. “In any case, I know you’re tired. Please, this way.”

She turns to the wall, and pushes open a door. It’s been set flush with the surrounding wall and painted to match. It’s no wonder we hadn’t seen it on the way up.

“What was that light?” asks Greggor, his face drooping with fatigue. I’m surprised he has the energy to be curious.

“That was our x-ray,” replies the woman. “We had to make sure you weren’t carrying any Shock Squad weapons on you.” She looks us over, taking in our obviously exhausted state. “Since you had nothing on you to set off the alarms, and you fit the descriptions that Jarom gave me, just follow me. We’ll get you to your new rooms so you can rest.” She leads us through the door and down a dark corridor. “By the way, my name is Jamie.”

“Is Jarom here?” we question. Rett had worried that he’d been captured.

“He was, but he had to leave again.” Jamie takes a deep breath. “There are still over fifty people from your cell that haven’t made it, and he’s hoping to find them.”

We glance at Elizabeth and Greggor in alarm. There could be potentially fifty fellow Resistance members, dead. Rett hadn’t seen anyone else at the safe house, or while walking, but he had pegged that to the fact that we were all supposed to take indirect routes.