Page 21 of Bound By Water
“Slide your backpack onto your shoulders and carry this one for me. I’ll take my duffle and your suitcase,” he informs me in a hard voice as he hands me the pack Brad gave him. “Let’s go. Double time.”
Having grown up with Lionel, I recognize his order to pick up the pace and start running. Thankfully, we’re both in good shape, so it doesn’t take us long. Eight minutes later, we’re slowing to a walk on the outskirts of a train station parking lot.
“It’s a commuter stop,” he informs me. “We’re going to change directions once we hit the main line.” His eyes dart around the surprisingly busy terminal.
With gritty eyes, I glance up at the board. Six o’clock. These must be people getting home from work. When Lionel motions for me to follow him, I tighten my grip on the backpack in my hands and board the train he indicates. Once we’re on, he dives into the pack in my hands and pulls out two tickets.
Destination is… Philadelphia, but I doubt we’ll go that far. I want to ask Lionel, but the seats around us are filling with people, and I’m too scared someone will hear me, so I just lean my head on the window and stare out at the station.
Minutes later, the train rolls out of the station, and it isn’t long before I see the outskirts of Philly. We get off at a stop in the suburbs. Lionel buys two tickets to Chicago, but on the way to board, he steps to the side, points to the restroom, and hands me a bag. “Put it on. Throw the hoodie in the trash. I’m going to switch too. If you come out before me, don’t move from this spot.”
Nervously biting my lip, I nod and take the bag from him. The restroom is full, so I dart into one of the stalls. Reaching into the plastic sack, I pull out a red jacket and a ball cap. After putting it on and using the restroom, I throw the hoodie into the bag and emerge from the stall to an empty room. Tossing the bag into the trash, I wash my hands and pull my hair into a low bun to hide it better, then put the cap back on. Lionel’s waiting when I come out. Instead of the green jacket he had on earlier, he’s wearing a navy windbreaker and a knit cap.
He throws an arm around me and leans down to whisper, “Head to the parking lot.”
Confused, I glance at the train to Chicago but instead of boarding, I turn toward the exit. Someone in a dark hoodie bumps into me, and I let out a little scream, but when I hear a low voice apologize, I shake it off and flash an embarrassed smile in their direction.
Lionel digs into his pocket and pulls out the set of keys Brad tossed him. “Lot C. We’re looking for a blue Nissan Rogue.” When we get to the parking lot, we head to the section. Once there, he repeatedly clicks on the fob until one of the nearby vehicles answers back with a chirp.
Piling our luggage into the trunk, he points to the passenger side, and I slide in and wait for him. The dome light shines briefly on his face as he gets into the driver’s side and starts it. Deep lines bracket his mouth and eyes. He looks tired.
“Do you want me to drive?” I offer, although I don’t know where we’re going.
He pats my hand. “It’s not far. Once we’re in D.C., we’ll grab the 11:30 train to Atlanta. Why don’t you catch some sleep? It’s going to be a long night.”
I shake my head. Sleep is the last thing on my mind. “Can’t. There’s too much I need to know.” He glances at me but nods. “How do you know Brad?”
I don’t know why that’s my first question, but it helps to start with something… simpler than the subject of psychic powers. I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around that part.
His shoulders relax a bit. “Army. Your father knew him, too. We served together on a few missions. After your father got out, Brad and I stayed in.”
“And the other guy? Mace,” I ask, thinking about the fact that Brad knew my father. I wish I’d known earlier.
“He served with us on the last few missions,” Lionel says with a shrug. “Good guy.”
“Do they have powers, too?” I ask, almost afraid of hearing the answer.
“Yes,” Lionel says with a lift of his chin. “I can’t tell you what they are, though. We tend to keep our abilities to ourselves, and they’re not here for me to ask permission.”
Fair enough. “Did you and my father get your powers in the military?”
“No,” he quietly answers, then continues. “Thirty-five to forty years ago, random people started exhibiting powers. Most of them were low level. Telepathy. Clairvoyance. Precognition. The government ran a few tests, then dismissed them. But when the powers became more complex, they started to investigate further. It took them a while, but the government discovered the common factor was RH-negative blood. Some think our abilities were triggered by gamma rays from a meteorite that swept by earth, others theorize it was a natural evolution of the human race.” He shrugs. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s something we haven’t thought of yet. There are a lot of theories and few answers.”
Trent had mentioned something about RH-negative blood. “I’m O+,” I remind him, confused.
He wipes a hand down his face. “I know. The first generation was purely Rh-negative. Once the second generation, our children, started exhibiting powers, we realized it was evolving. The second generation could either be Rh-negative or a carrier of the Rh factor. Because of your father, you’re a carrier.”
The numbers are mind-boggling. “If all of them have power and their children are inheriting it too, you’re talking about a quarter of the human race.”
He shrugs. “At a minimum.” His hands tighten on the steering wheel. “A third generation is being born,” he reminds me. “World leaders took immediate action when they realized how much of the population was impacted. In the United States, Congress created two groups. One to study us, led by Senator Thomas Hightower, and the other to support our rights, led by Senator Jack Harrison. Sort of a check and balance system.”
He continues. “We call Hightower’s military group Raven, because they’re the harbinger of death for our kind. Hightower is supposed to use his position to find answers, not kill us, but after his wife died, he went off the deep end. Normal humans getting eclipsed by those with powers is his biggest fear, so he’s made it a mission to hunt us down, especially the individuals with rare, almost unstoppable powers.”
Taking a deep breath, he finishes. “When you first told me about being stalked, I thought they’d somehow found out I changed your records.”
“What do you mean, you changed my records?”
“At your dad’s request, I changed your birth certificate so they would think you were adopted,” he admits with a sigh. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure it would work, but Hightower never came after you. I didn’t realize you’d run into his son.”
