Crossing Shifting Parallels

Cold air crept its way around the room as Lacia slept; it wrapped her body in tendrils of iciness like climbing vines on a wall. The room was as silent as snow, pierced only by the steady hiss of air from a ceiling vent—a white noise paradise.

A nearby thermostat taunted her as she shivered in her sleep; she tossed and turned in the bitingly-cold, cage-like room. The thermostat had been set and forgotten about; it seemed the wall-mount was controlled externally—there were no buttons.

Dim light squeezed its way under the door, illuminating a haphazard pile of sheets and blankets that hung from the side of the bed. Uncovered, Lacia’s leg dangled off the edge, twisted in between the array of bedding and blankets. Goosebumps lined her skin; fresh waves of cold air swept over her, lips a faint shade of blue as she lay unconscious.

An armband attached to her wrist chirped, warning that her body temperature was approaching dangerous territory as footsteps clattered somewhere outside her room—someone must have heard the chirp. A small click came from the door, now unlocked. A silhouette stood with their back to the door, slowly turning Lacia’s arm over to check the band’s display.

“Any lower and we risk hypothermia,” a deep voice trailed off. “This will work, then. We’ll take her back to the lab and warm her up after blood draws.”

A wheelchair appeared in the doorway from out in the hall, accompanied by another, smaller, silhouette as Lacia was hoisted from the bed and into the chair. Her armband beeped a second time—a warning that her body temperature was still falling. An inaudible murmur rose from her lips, but she showed no signs of waking as she was wheeled down the hall toward the medical labs.

The second silhouette turned to face the doorway, illuminated by the orange glow of the hallway lights—a young woman. She looked to be about Lacia’s age. A gold-chain necklace dangled from her neck, promptly hidden by locks of brunette hair.

“Just place her on the table and disinfect the injection site,” the first silhouette said. “I’ve discovered something quite interesting. I’ll join you in the lab in a few minutes.” The new woman nodded as she wheeled Lacia out of the room.

The LED display of a phone dimly lit the figure’s face—it was the man from before. He placed the phone on the bed, sitting down as he hit record.

“I’ve discovered an anomaly in DNA samples taken from subject 009. It seems, with the inclusion of the neriolite, a peculiar energy is produced within the body, but only when she’s cold.”

He continued. “This is atypical energy, but it seems to cause the stone to react, as well. More research will have to be done regarding the relationship between subject 009 and neriolite,” he concluded. “No further tests needed at this time. Aria will proceed with blood draws.”

Lacia struggled to open her eyes, aroused by the harsh sunlight—not the most welcome sight after being asleep for God knows how long. She lifted a hand to shield her face from the sun as a warm breeze blew over her. Eyes finally adjusting to the sunlight, she looked down, first examining the wheelchair, then the open ocean before her—her heart sank. The tiny sliver of hope she’d so desperately clung to shattered before her eyes, dissolving like salt in water. She had hoped there was a small chance it was all just a bad dream, that she wasn’t stranded on a boat in the middle of nowhere. Unfortunately, she had to face the reality that she wasn’t dreaming. From here on, her freedom would have to come by her own hands.

She wondered why she’d been left all alone, though. There was trusting, then there was neglecting your job. Surely someone had been assigned to watch her? Unless there was a specific reason they’d left her unsupervised, it seemed strange she would be hanging out in a wheelchair. Either way, she appreciated the alone time, even if she was stuck on some boat. The open air filled her lungs as she inhaled the salty tinge of the humid atmosphere.

“Finally,” she thought. “No more bleach. What I’d give for a—” The salty spray from the boat’s wake interrupted her as she wiped the water from her face. “Ugh! It still beats being stuck inside that windowless room, though,” she muttered.

Regardless, there seemed no escape from the water: no land, no other boats—just an endless blue horizon dotted by the occasional white puff of cloud. She felt hopeless, looking at something so infinite yet so full of life.

“What would it be like to be a fish or a whale or something?” she wondered aloud, staring into the distance. “Would it be better than captivity as some human lab rat? No school, no job, no creepy experiments—just glub, like a fish.” Her eyes were full of longing.

She understood all life faced challenges in the fight for survival, and she truly considered herself privileged, living a life that held so many different experiences: bad jokes at sleepovers, the savory aroma of her favorite foods, the pounding of her heartbeat…

Even if these people did get what they wanted, she had no reason to believe they would just let her go. Sure, she could try to reason or cut a deal with the strange man, but would he even be open to negotiations for her freedom? What did she have that she could even offer in return? There was no way they’d risk her reaching out to Law Enforcement and detailing her experience. Maybe they never get caught… She shook her head. She’d seen too much. At this point, if she wanted to escape this hellhole, there was only one thing left to do.

“No one will know if I go overboard, not until it’s too late, at least. I’ll just swim until I get tired and slowly sink beneath the waves.” She shook at the thought. “This is really it. I have to keep whatever it is they want from me from them. Maybe I’m overthinking things, but what other options do I have? A watery coffin beats being used for experiments that could turn me into a mindless zombie or something.”

It seemed strange no one had come to retrieve her in the time she’d been outside, though, and why was she wheeled to port, of all places? Did they really think she wouldn't try to jump over the railing or wave for help if another boat appeared?

“None of this makes any sense, so why should my lack of supervision be any different?” She shrugged. “Their mistake, I guess.”

She took a long, deep breath. Jumping was a crazy idea, but it was all she could do. The chances she’d be able to bring anyone to the negotiating table were slim, and even if she could negotiate for her freedom, there were no guarantees these people would keep their word. As much as she feared deep, open water, she feared being a human test subject more.

She willed herself to get it over with, gripping the side of her wheelchair as she hoisted herself out, but, to her surprise, she fell back into the leather seat.

“Um, ok… Maybe I’m just not fully awake yet?”

She gripped the chair, harder this time, and took another breath, lifting herself from the chair once more. A weary smile crept onto her face.

“This is it. No turning back now… If there’s a God out there somewhere, please let my friends and family know I’m ok. I know this seems totally crazy, but I don’t want to be used to bring about something that may or may not hurt someone else.”

She began to count. “One… Two…”

Her legs gave out before she made it to three. The fall felt surreal; one moment she was sitting in the wheelchair. The next, she was falling through the air with no way to slow her descent. Her thoughts raced:

“What happens next? Even if it’s ‘not my time’, what am I supposed to do? I can’t be someone else’s doll to run experiments on and keep locked up forever!”

Unable to break her fall, she landed on her arm, wallowing in pain. She struggled to crawl away, gasping as the air was expelled from her lungs. Her chest felt tight, spots swam in her eyes. A sharp, stinging pain shot through her body; she became physically ill. Her mind swam with pain and confusion, intermixed with every possible scenario she could think of that ended in her favor, but the pain was too much. She lay writhing on the deck like a fish out of water.

The smell of wax wafted into her nose. Catching her reflection in the glossy, wooden surface, she noticed dark circles under her eyes. Perhaps even more striking were the masses of bruises that ran between her neck and shoulder—enough was enough. She decided that, if she couldn’t jump, she’d lay there and take her chances at being a human guinea pig.

“God, I hate this so much,” she said, crying. “Stuck on some boat in the middle of nowhere and now my legs suddenly just don’t work? I’m so pathetic.”

“Lacia…” Someone was calling out to her, but the voice was raspy, barely audible, and she was pretty sure water couldn’t speak. “Allow me to handle things from here. You’ve done well,” the voice sounded. “Reach out your hand.”

Subconsciously, she extended her uninjured arm. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but she grabbed something tangible. No… Whatever she’d grabbed was different somehow. The only way she could think of describing it was like grabbing air; she knew it was there, but she couldn’t explain how. It felt… inviting.

“I cannot give them a sign, but I can do this,” the voice remarked.

She was lifted from the deck as a warm wind caressed her body. She floated in the air for a moment, unsure if she was hallucinating from the pain or if she truly was airborne. A part of her knew her world was about to collide with something she never could have imagined—ready or not, the moment was now.

A makeshift portal, shimmering like glass, appeared before her; she felt weightless, pulled into the void, watching as the boat retreated from view. She floated through the open abyss for what felt like eternity, yet the flow of time seemed contested—a place where gravity was nonexistent, and time had no meaning. How long had it been since she entered the portal? Minutes? Hours? Perhaps even days? The darkness was profound, but she remained steadfast.

Suddenly, a small, compact ball of light drifted towards her; it seemed eager to reward her strong will and determination, for making it so far on her own, but it also felt sad and lonely. She held out her hands as the light nestled itself into her palms, subsequently creating an explosion of color that fanned out in every direction—the birth of a new galaxy; she dove through the atmosphere of an exo-planet, brushed against the icy body of a comet, and witnessed the collapse of a star.

“Harmoniously symbiotic... There's no other way to describe this,” she said, bathed in the beauty of the universe.

“You are not yet ready to understand, but the universe holds many secrets,” the voice came again. “There is still much for you to learn. Now, go. They still need you.”

Another portal shimmered before her as she drifted to a halt before it. The luster of the universe transformed the portal into a multicolor rainbow—beautiful didn't cut it; this was something she’d only ever seen in pictures and movies—to stand before such cosmic magnificence filled her with an unfamiliar sense of calm. The pain in her arm melted away, her heartrate slowed, and a transcendent warmth eased her weary mind.

Peering through the newly formed portal, she felt like the omniscient narrator in a story: she watched as a businessman walked across the street for a morning coffee; a teacher compiled her lesson plans for the day; a pilot climbed into the cockpit of his plane, ready for another day of flights.

The scene shifted once more. This time, a pile of desks had been strewn across a classroom. In the center, a girl lay sprawled out onto the floor. Was that her? Another portal opened to her right where she could see Mana, Brendan and another person she didn't recognize. Excitedly, she called out, but to no avail.

“You are needed in both places, child, but your friends are not yet ready for your return. There is still much you have left to do and much yet to learn,” the voice explained. “You have crossed great distances. Your two worlds are separate, but you must learn how to cross these parallels on your own… The future is what you seek the most. I will not be able to help you again.”

“Wait, what? What am I supposed to do, then? How do I get back? Where do I actually belong?” Desperation seeped into Lacia's voice. Questions bombarded her brain, but answers continued to elude her. “The future?”

“You must find those answers yourself. I am out of time, but I bid you good luck, Lacia. Do not forget: the answers you seek await discovery.”

A gust of wind slammed into her, forcing her through the first portal in a dizzying spiral. She held out her hand, watching as the cosmic colors slipped through her fingers. She understood very little of what had happened, but one thing was for sure: she would never forget the magnificence she’d been graced with.

Spinning herself around, she managed to glide to a stop as she stood before a strange red door. A glowing key manifested in her palm, but it was ice cold. She looked at the door, the key in her hand, then back to the door.

If she could stay in this place forever, she would. Her mind was at peace, her body felt lighter than air, and she felt focused, but the weight of the world and her decisions had fallen upon her shoulders; she couldn't neglect the people who were relying on her, whether they knew it or not.

“I suppose this is the metaphorical key to my destiny, then?” She turned the key over in her hands. It had no physical form, yet it glistened like metal. “Everything from here on, I’ll have to figure out myself, but I don’t even know where to start… I know I'm here for a reason, but how am I supposed to bear the weight of two worlds? She sighed. “In any case, it looks like my entire world just doubled in size.”

She turned the key in the door and was immediately bathed in light so pure she wondered if she was on her way to meet God. An endless sea of emotion swept over her like a tidal wave. From fear and anxiety, to hope and determination, myriads of emotions enveloped her like a loving hug.

The scent of oak desks slowly began to fill her nostrils as a slew of voices arced through the colorless void, illuminating the path before her in arrays of vivid color. While her heart ached, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl under her bed covers, that life was no more.

As the light began to dissipate, she found herself on her back, blinking in surprise. “Oh, I'm back,” she groaned.

Faint amber light peered through the windows casting shadows into the corners of the classroom as the sun began to set. A light breeze blew across her face from an open window, gently rustling her silvery-blonde locks.

She looked around the room, attempting to sit up, thoroughly confused. She felt as if she’d been somewhere and nowhere at the same time, but she couldn’t explain why—at least, not right away, but it seemed she had bigger problems on her hands now; a handful of students stood around her, nervously whispering.

“What… happened?” she asked. Her voice was slow but steady.

Lyra was the first to answer. “You suddenly passed out and hit the desks on the way down. You hit them really hard. Are you ok?”

Lacia patted herself down from head to toe before realizing she’d mysteriously changed clothes. Her memory was foggy, but she remembered the woman on the ship had given her a nightgown and leggings.

“Well, maybe it was more like she threw them in my face, but—” she cut herself off. “Um… Have I been wearing this the whole time?” she asked, pulling at a cream-colored cross-knit sweater and knee-length skirt. “No, uh, leggings or anything else?”

The classroom was full of blank stares. “Lacia,” Mana said, pushing her way to the front, “did you maybe hit your head a little hard? Maybe we should get you to a hospital, just to be safe.”

“Please, just humor me. I literally don’t remember changing or where I got these clothes from…” Her face suddenly turned red. Her skirt had slipped at the waist, giving any spectators an unexpected sight.

“Lacia?” Lyra said.

“Err… Sorry, Lyra. I didn’t mean to ignore you,” Lacia said, using the fallen desks as cover to pull her skirt back up. “I’m just a little confused…”

Lyra shook her head. “No worries, really! Let’s talk later, though. I really think there’s something we should discuss.”

“Yeah… When my brain is working a little better,” Lacia laughed.

She began to lift herself off the floor, slowly at first. The aches and soreness were manageable. Thankfully, the tumble didn’t seem to have broken any bones. Strangely enough, she’d escaped without injury. Hoisting herself back onto her feet, she was quickly overcome with a flood of memories: Brendan, the now-closed gift shop in Azalea—even her nightmares. It was almost as if she’d forgotten about her “normal” life entirely; the way her memories came flooding back made her feel like a computer with too much information—her brain was fried.

Mana raised her voice. “Lacia—"

“It’s fine, Mana. I’m fine,” she insisted. “My memories… they’re suddenly all here now, because that’s totally normal,” she said sarcastically, “but I feel like I’m living a double life. How do I even explain this?”

“She doesn’t exactly look ‘fine’ to me. Are you sure?” a male voice came.

“Again— I’m fine, but I don’t believe we’ve been introduced yet," Lacia said tensely.

Mana spoke up, hoping to defuse tensions. “That’s Kaden. He’s our group leader and the one in charge of everything right now. He’s, uhh, just making sure you’re alright,” she said, addressing Lacia as she stared daggers into him.

Lacia crossed her arms. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Kaden. You already know who I am, I guess, so I see no further need for introductions.” She steadied herself. “There’s actually a lot that I need to explain, though. At least, what I can, anyways…”

“Actually, can you take a rain check?” Lyra said. “I don’t know if this is connected to whatever that thing was we killed out there, but some suspicious-looking people just walked onto campus.”

Mana hurried to the window, but Lyra held her arm out in warning. “You can take my spot here,” Lyra said, using the drapes for cover.

Nonchalantly, Lacia positioned herself on the set of drapes opposite Mana and peered out; a group of three people had indeed infiltrated the school grounds. They were hard to see from the top floor, but she could make out two what looked like two men and one woman as they approached from the front gates.

The men were well-built, muscles bulging through their shirts. Something hung at their sides, but she couldn’t make out what it was. Were they contractors, sent to share blueprints of the school for renovation after the attack? She squinted.

“Those are definitely guns, but they’re… empty? The magazines aren’t even in them,” she half-warned.

“Alright… Then what’s the verdict?” Mana asked. “Do we stay, or should we sneak out around the back of the school maybe?”

“Great question, really, but let’s say we do manage to sneak out. Where, exactly, do we go? Won’t they just follow us?” Lacia countered.

“Neither,” Kaden concluded. “Let them enter the school first. There’s plenty of debris to navigate and that’ll make for noisy footsteps. This floor was untouched—our footsteps will be quieter, and we can use that to our advantage.”

“How so, Kaden?” Lyra mused. She seemed almost excited.

“We use the noise of their footsteps to determine their location.” He walked up to the windows, stopping several feet from the edge before angling a small mirror toward the ground until the trio came into view. “That woman has a thermal imaging camera. If she gets close enough, it’ll pick up on your fingerprints on the edges of the drapes—the residual heat. I have another idea how we get out of here.” Heeding his warning, Lacia and Mana retreated from the window, regrouping in the center of the classroom.

“Here’s what we’ll do: Lacia, Lyra, and Mana—you three raid the Crafting Club down the hall, grab all of the material you can find, and tie it together. Only pull drapes from the windows if they are out of the view of those people,” he said. “While we can try to go out the back, the amount of debris that’s laying around would make for a hazardous trip. If we leave footprints in the dust and plaster, they’ll be able to track us.”

“So, there is a brain in there,” Lyra teased. “In the meantime, Kaden, can you and Cilan barricade the stairs and doors to this floor? We want to buy time, don’t we?” She giggled before grabbing Lacia and Mana, pulling them towards the Crafting Club’s room.

Kaden sneered. “Real funny.” He turned to Cilan next. “First, by chance, I don’t suppose you can access the school’s network, can you? I’ve heard you StuCo guys get some pretty nice perks. Any announcements you can loop over the intercom would add a little chaos to the pot and confuse our guests.”

“Heh. Yeah, I can do that. I’ll have to run down to the Broadcasting Room, but it should only take a few minutes—just don’t completely barricade me out. This should work really well, but for it to work, they can’t be in the building yet,” Cilan explained. “It has to seem authentic, like it’s been playing since before the attack.”

Kaden nodded, giving Cilan the greenlight. “Try to work fast, though. We may not have more than a few of those said minutes.”

A couple minutes later, a loud warning blared across the school’s intercom: “All students and staff are to shelter in place. This is not a drill. All students and staff are to shelter in place.”

Cilan poked his head back into the classroom. “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Kaden replied, “but how did you do that so fast?”

“I didn’t get StuCo President just because I have good grades,” he smirked. “I’m kind of a tech wiz, too.”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side next time we game… Anyways, we just have to hope the girls got the message,” Kaden said, stepping out into the hall. “While we wait for those three, we need to finish the barricades because it looks like,” he walked back over to the windows, “our guests have entered the school. They’re probably just past the shoe lockers by now.”

“He—eey,” Lyra called. “Sorry to keep you waiting. This was all we could find!”

Swirls of various hues fluttered through the hallway; crimson reds, verdant greens, ocean blues, and sunset purples turned the hallway into a sea of color. Murmurs rose between Lacia and Mana, uncertain if they had an appropriate amount of fabric. Altogether, there looked to be enough for three-stories worth in length—short the length of one story, approximately.

“We’re just short,” Kaden said pensively. “It’s about a six-foot drop from the end of the fabric rope that means… It’ll have to do. Take the teacher’s desk and push it against the wall, then tie the fabric rope to it. We’ll use that to anchor us as we rappel down,” he ordered. “Thoughts on our barricade?”

“I mean, if you’re trying to stop a horde of baby bunnies, it’s perfect,” Lacia replied, sarcastically. “Real talk though, it could use a little more work. Those dudes were bulky, but what else are they capable of, you know?”

Kaden glared at her. “You make a good point about the two men, but who are you to criticize our barricade? Like, this is all we could come up with. Do you have a builder’s permit or something?”

Lacia shrugged. “I’m just a girl. What do I know?”

Cilan cleared his throat. “If you two are done, I’m tracking our uninvited guests—in the event you’d like a sense of where they are, that is.” A series of blips dotted the screen of his phone. “It really do be now or never,” he said. “We have about five minutes until they reach the stairs. If the barricade holds, it’ll buy us maybe another couple. If we’re rappelling down, that’s at least two minutes per person.”

Suddenly, all eyes turned to Lacia. She wondered what ever happened to democracy; she really did not want to be the first to go. It was one thing to take part in controlled experiments, it was another to trapeze down a rope of fabric without someone to catch her if she fell. What happened if she did fall? She understood that hesitation could cost them time they didn’t have, but she didn’t want to fall however many stories, break her legs, and everything be all for naught.

She sighed, giving in. “Fine, but, next time, I get a say in this kind of thing.”

A minute later, she was below the window line. The fabric was almost too silken—her hands slipped several inches before she could firmly grasp the makeshift rope. She dug her heels into the wall, trying to slow her descent, but she inadvertently rubbed her hands raw instead. Shrugging the rope burn off, she rappelled the rest of the way down, dangling several feet above the ground before hitting the grassy slope beneath her.

“Keep coming,” she shouted up. “I’ll, uhh…” She looked around for a landmark of some sort—a central location where they could all meet up. “I can see a school bus like a hundred away from here,” she said. “Let’s everyone meet there.”

She could hear Kaden and Cilan urging the remaining students down the rope as she ran for the bus. “This is crazy,” she said. “What’s real and what’s fiction anymore? Why is it I seem to be everyone’s target lately?!”

She stopped at the school gates, squeezing between the metal fences. “Ow!” she yelped. “But of course I’d get cut by a rusty gate. If those people don’t kill me, tetanus sure will,” she half-joked. “God, this is so insane. Zero out of ten—would not recommend.”

The metal was hot, radiated by the midday sun, but she would gladly take a few burns if it meant getting everyone to safety. She wondered what would happen if she couldn’t fit through the gates or, God forbid, she got stuck. Paranoia seized her mind; she pulled her sweater off and balled it up in her hands. If the knit snagged on some part of the metal or got caught on a branch, she’d have to spend time unhooking herself—better to just take it off.

The gradual patter of footsteps rose from the pavement behind her. How many people had been able to make it down so far? She stopped at the doors to the bus, panting, hands on her knees. With a little force, she pried the doors open with a quiet hiss and climbed inside. As luck would have it, the keys were even in the ignition.

She planted herself in the driver’s seat, shoving the sweater into the side as she turned the key over and over only to be met with a sputtering engine that refused to start. Her heart pounded against her chest, anxiety levels rising. If the bus wouldn’t start, they’d be in trouble; it wouldn’t take long for those people to push through the makeshift barrier Kaden and Cilan had created, though it seemed to be holding—for now.

“Lacia!” Lyra called, rounding the corner by the gates. “The woman made it up faster than we were expecting,” she said, catching her breath. “It’s just Kaden and Cilan left, but the rope started to fray after I made it down.” She seated herself on the entryway steps, exhausted.

“Are they okay?” Lacia asked, concerned.

“They’re boys,” she said between breaths. “If they have to jump from a little higher up the rope, they’ll be fine. More importantly,” Lyra moved to examine the bus’s dashboard, “is it not starting?” Lacia shook her head. “Then how about we give it a little boost?” She placed a single palm against the dash for a moment. “Okay. Now try.”

Lacia turned the key in the ignition again. One click… Two clicks… Three clicks… The engine roared to life, humming with a healthy machinery-like resonance. She relaxed as the engine continued to purr—they officially had a getaway vehicle. Now, all they needed were Mana, the two boys, and a plan.

The sound of Cilan’s voice suddenly pierced the air. “Go, Kaden. I’ll be right behind you!”

Lacia motioned for Lyra to take a seat before slamming the gas pedal to the floor, giving her little time to settle in before she was thrust into the cracked-leather upholstery. The plan was to park the bus in front of the gate; they could use the steel exterior as a bulletproof shield—it would block anyone who stood on the other side of it from view.

“Lacia! You could’ve waited until I was at least between the seats, you know?” Lyra scolded. “I literally almost fell over the back of the seat!” She blew a puff of hair out of her face.

“Sorry… But every second counts. I floored it because I knew the bus would lurch and it would throw you into a seat,” she said awkwardly. “It’s a physics thing. Don’t ask me how it works.”

Lyra pulled her window down as Mana squeezed through the gates, Kaden not far behind. “Come around the back of the bus—it’ll provide more cover for longer,” Lyra shouted. “We don’t want those people to know how many of us there are. If you slow when rounding the front of the bus, they could see you.” She turned back toward Lacia. “Park the bus so that the end is parallel with the gates.”

She did as instructed. Engaging the parking brake, she leaned over the back of the driver’s seat, beaming. The bus rattled and bounced before coming to a squealing halt, back end parallel to the gate. Lacia engaged the parking brake though she left the bus idling, prepared for a hasty retreat.

“You know what? I think we make a pretty good team! Since only one person can fit in the entryway at a time, having everyone come around back would protect them while boarding and waiting to board the bus! Also, in the off chance we do get shot at, there’s one thing I’d like to do.”

A look of confusion crossed Lyra’s face. “And what is that…?”

“Your hair just looks sooo soft. Would you mind sharing your hair care routine with me? It reminds me of chocolate and,” she tugged at her own hair, “mine is kinda flat at the moment. Mind helping a girl out?”

Mana stood in the entryway of the bus, trying to hold back her laughter. “Lacia, there’s no way that’s what you’re worried about right now.” She’d silently snuck aboard, eavesdropping on Lyra and Lacia’s conversation.

“You took the words right out of my mouth, but, next time, maybe don’t eavesdrop? Just saying…” Lyra replied. “Um, anyways… Tell you what, Lacia. If we make it out of this, I’ll share my routine with you. Deal?”

Lacia glowered at Mana. “You know what I heard, Mana? I heard that eavesdroppers lose one cup size every time they’re caught. Crazy, right?” She watched as Mana’s face momentarily filled with shock. “By the way, you have a deal, Lyra!”

She laughed. “Ok, but remember: this is entirely dependent on you getting us out of here. Don’t get us killed, now,” Lyra winked.

“By the way,” Mana said, coming down from her laughter high, “where did Kaden go? He was behind me just a minute ago.” She climbed into the bus, hoping for a better idea of what was happening as she peered out the windows. “That idiot. He went back to help Cilan, though I’m not sure what good he is, standing there with his arms in the air like that…”

Without warning, Cilan bolted out of the open window. Mana gasped and, for a moment, Lacia thought he was trying to run on air. They watched as he used his center of gravity to pull himself towards the fabric rope; specks of multicolored sparkles rained over him as he stripped the rope of color. Pulling out a small lighter, the rope was promptly engulfed in flames.

“Did he just… light that whole thing on fire, before he was on the ground?” Mana said, shocked. “The idea wasn’t to burn the school down, or yourself, you idiot.”

“Could you do something like that, under pressure?” Lyra teased. “Boys are strange creatures. They’re willing to tear their bodies apart just to prove that they can. Either that, or they just have to light literally anything and everything on fire like some toy.” Her tone was cool and calm, but her eyes told a different story.

Catching Lacia’s gaze in the rearview mirror, she finished her thought. “I have wonder if they know what they’re doing sometimes, you know what I mean?”

“Why did she say it like that?” Lacia wondered. “It’s as if she knows—”

The audible crunch of gravel underfoot turned her attention back to the windows as Kaden and Cilan skid to a stop before the school gates. Kaden cupped his hands and bent down; Cilan sprinted towards him, calculating the distance each foot would need to travel, careful not to miss Kaden’s boost.

“You know,” he said, “nothing quite screams 'I'm over here!' like a giant, rolling yellow banana on wheels.”

Kaden didn’t seem amused by the attempted joke. “It’s all we have, Cilan. Quit making crappy jokes. What else did you want the girls to do? Rent an Elephant?” Cilan frowned, displeased at the retort. “Uh huh. That’s what I thought. Take some time out to find better jokes, man, because that one sucked,” he said, hoisting Cilan over the gates as the sole of his shoes pressed against his palms. Kaden followed suit, climbing over the metal bars with ease.

The sun was centered overhead, beating down on the pavement. Combined with the heat from the bus, the air had turned into a thick, heavy soup. The boys climbed into the bus, drenched in sweat as temperatures soared without explanation.

“Is it just me, or is it, like, hot, hot?” Cilan asked, sliding into an empty seat.

“It’s so hot, I’m strongly thinking about ditching this bra,” Mana corroborated.

Lacia frowned as the bus doors creaked shut. “Was that information really necessary? I mean, as a fellow woman, I totally get it, but some things are best left unsaid…” She settled her gaze on Cilan and Kaden, but they were hardly paying attention. “Okay then,” she mumbled. “Anyways, we’re leaving! Hold on to something, because I’m flooring it.”

“No— Lacia, wai—” Lyra was in the middle of swapping seats before she was thrown into another as Lacia hit the gas. “Girl, I swear,” she muttered.

The bus hurtled down the road, off to a destination unknown. Lacia glanced in the rearview mirror, wary of pursuers. Thankfully, they were alone. She turned down a side street, intersecting a neighborhood; it would be good to get off the main roads, regardless of whether they were being followed or not. They had no food or water, blankets, flashlights—equipment deemed necessary for emergencies.

“Hey, uhh, now that we’re safe,” Lacia started, “can someone please explain to me where it is I’m taking us? Parking the bus and looting empty houses sounds nice and all,” she joked, “but I think we need a better plan than something morally questionable.”

Kaden pulled out a pocket-crumpled map; it looked like it had been drawn in sharpie. Some kind of abstract art project? In the upper right corner, a red circle encompassed a black X—likely something important.

“Can you get us here?" Kaden asked, tapping the circled X with his finger.

“I’ll do my best, but what exactly is it?” Lacia replied as she pulled the bus over to examine the map.

Mana stopped fanning herself. She looked to Kaden then Lacia, uncertain about what they should and shouldn’t divulge. She rubbed the back of her head, conflicted, before bouncing the question back to Kaden to answer.

“Look, I’m gonna be real with you, fam. We still don’t know enough about what’s going on with you, but we know you’re an integral part of this mission.”

“Mission?” Lacia cocked her head.

“So, you’re not fully back, yet… Alright, then here’s a quick rundown.” His voice was full of displeasure, having been put on the spot. “We’re part of a group of people who, how do I put this?” He pondered his phrasing for a moment. "We have this power called “Aria.”

He held out his hand as a faint white light grew in his palm, strangely calming. The light swelled into a ball as it cast its luminescence outwards. Stars formed within the center like a mini universe, expanding into infinity. Lacia felt the tension in her muscles ease, and the sneaking migraine she’d been fighting back was gone—she was sold.

“I'll show you more in a minute,” Kaden said, “but we’re still a few miles out. I’ll tell you know when we arrive.”

Lacia’s curiosity was ready to burst like a frozen pipe, but she was more than willing to drive a few more miles if it meant Kaden had the answers to her questions: Where was she? What about the mysterious pains and her excessive bleeding? Who was after her? She didn’t want to get her hopes up, but it wasn’t fair to keep her in the dark if he knew something.

***

Several excruciatingly-hot miles later, Kaden signaled for Lacia to park the bus. She pulled under a set of large shade trees, finally giving its engine a well-earned rest as the compressor hissed off. She exited the bus and examined her surroundings… or lack thereof.

A large, open field sprawled into the horizon, encompassing her on all sides. Other than the several boulders that dotted the landscape, the field was almost as flat as a sheet of paper. She began to understand why people still believed the Earth was flat—there wasn’t a single blade of glass out of place, though, she felt unsettled. Goosebumps lined her arms like sandpaper. Was she nervous? Just anxious? She couldn’t put her finger on the vibe at all.

“Watch carefully,” Kaden instructed.

“Sorry, watch what?”

A strong wind blew in from every direction—cool and refreshing. Pressure built in Lacia’s chest as the air crackled with an electric-like energy. She turned to look at Kaden, but he remained hyper-fixated on whatever it was he was trying to demonstrate. Suddenly, the wind grew hot and dry; it reminded her of desert air without all the sand.

Kaden raised his hand and chopped the air like a knife. Lacia swore time momentarily stopped. A black and white flash bleached the world— not even gravity could escape the thunderous climax to his demonstration; the world became weightless and blank, like a painter’s canvas, as Lacia’s feet momentarily left the ground.

A familiar voice called out to her. “You’re getting closer, but you still have a long journey ahead of you.”

Colors rushed back into focus like a splash of paint. She dropped to her knees, struggling to regain her equilibrium… and her dignity; a puddle of vomit formed at her feet. A fresh, cold breeze nipped at the back of her neck as Kaden continued his demonstration without interruption.

“Was Kaden's Aria responsible for that just now? It felt… unreal, like he just split dimensions or something crazy,” she reasoned with herself.

“Pay attention, because here’s the important part,” he said, steadying his breathing.

A loud shriek reverberated for miles as the condensed block of air he’d been compiling continued to condense, rotating at speeds greater than that of a hurricane. Lacia shivered as the air temperature dove; the wind continued to howl like a banshee. The wind shifted again, replacing the formerly dry plume with a moisture-laden atmosphere. Lacia’s ears popped as the air pressure bombed out; it fell so fast even her bones ached.

With a large heave, Kaden released the condensed block of air, hurtling it towards a nearby boulder that shattered like glass. The shockwave knocked Lacia off her feet. If she were any lighter, there was a distinct possibility she would have been blown away, thrown miles down-field. He shuffled over to Lacia, staring at what remained of the boulder, now in gravel-sized pieces.

“Aria is special. It allows us to manifest our strongest feelings into form. My demonstration was but one example,” he explained. “Just like the human spirit has many emotions, Aria has many forms—perhaps even a limitless amount. Don’t let your emotions take control, though. Aria is a gift, and as such, it can be taken away all the same.”

Lacia’s hair fluttered about in the now-restless wind—strands of silver shone against the grey background of the sky above. Was mastering whatever “Aria” was the real key to her destiny? Perhaps even a ticket back to her old life?

“I— Kad—” the words caught in her throat like syrup—she tried again. “Kaden, I feel like there’s more you’re not telling me. I don’t just have ‘Aria’. You explained that it was a gift, but not where this said gift comes from. How am I supposed to obtain something so… special?” She recalled his explanation. “You said Aria has many forms. Could it be my Aria will take a form no one has ever seen?”

She turned to look at Mana then Lyra and, finally, Cilan, but no one had an answer for her—or was it just that they refused to answer? They looked around nervously, afraid to address her questions. She quickly grew suspicious.

“What is it you can’t tell me? I thought I was part of some important grand scheme, but how am I supposed to trust anyone if you won’t trust me first?”

Kaden tried to explain. “We do trust you, but some things are better off lost than found. Lacia, we—"

She cut him off. “I’m sorry,” attitude creeping into her voice, “but what the hell does that even mean? Like— Kaden, please. I realize that, whoever I was to you, has changed, I guess, but I promise you I’m still the same person I was before!” Tears clouded her eyes. “All I want is to feel like someone accepts me for who I am. I’m not a genie in a lamp, I don’t have magic powers, and,” she said softly, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

Lyra shot Kaden a dirty look. “Way to go, man,” she said, as she ran over to console Lacia. “She just wanted a simple answer—not some riddle.”

Kaden tried to apologize. “I don’t mean to come off so harsh, Lacia, but I just…”

“Just what, Kaden?” Lyra demanded. “Look, I know you mean well, but,” she lowered her voice, “she’s more important than you realize.”

“Even if she is, you and I both know she isn’t re—"

“You think I don’t know that?” Lyra shot back. “Why is it we don’t have an answer for her? Telling her she’s better off not knowing wasn’t—"

“It’s my fault,” Lacia cut in, face in her hands. “I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be or where I am. I’m scared, and I’m tired of putting on this façade.” She stood up to brush the dirt from her butt. “I don’t know if this is where I belong, but you’ve made clear you don’t have the answers I’m looking for, either,” she sniffled.

“If I’m to discover who I am and what my role in all of this craziness is,” she continued, “does it not seem reasonable that learning Aria is a good first step? I don’t want to have to part ways here—I don’t think I’d last a day.” Her voice quivered. “For all any of us know, that monster and those people were just the icing on the cake…”

Lyra smiled; Lacia's determination was admirable. “Lacia,” she said soothingly, “you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, and I’m glad I get to know you. As it currently stands, there just isn’t anything that will change Kaden’s mind—not even I know the full story behind Aria or what your gift might be, but,” she moved to wipe Lacia’s tears away, “what I do know is that you’re not alone—no matter how alone you may feel. I did say we needed to talk later, didn’t I?”

Kaden folded his arms. “Lacia, it wasn’t my intention to frighten you. It’s true, what I said about Aria. The TLDR is that we don’t understand the fundamentals ourselves, but if we can’t utilize everyone’s own unique strengths and abilities, we’re no stronger than our weakest link, right? I apologize for not being more direct with you.”

Lacia opened her mouth to speak, but something whizzed past her ear, skinning her cheek; a thin trace of blood trickled down her face. An arrow had lodged itself into the side of the bus, piercing the steel exterior. With a little force, she dislodged the arrowhead, a diamond-tipped point.

“Did this just—"

Before anyone could react, a second arrow whistled through the air, but it seemed… slower. The diamond-tipped point glinted in the streaks of sunlight that had broken the overcast, unhindered as it approached its target, and, this time, it didn’t miss.