in almost imperceptible violet waves from his body. Anyone else, it might have killed, but his resilience was another strange attribute to Thad’s Talent.
Jackson could make this stop, but he didn’t want to hurt a man who had become his friend. He also knew that in only a few moments, Thad wouldn’t be able to expend any more Energy. Perma-Shift would finally set in. He would need the doctors and Jackson to keep him alive through it. And, as soon as he thought it, Thad started to scream. His body doubled over and he crumpled to the ground. The convulsions started, Thad cracked his head on the cement floor with a sickening thud and vomit bubbled out of his lips.
Jackson rushed to kneel beside him and swept his finger into Thad’s mouth to clear out both vomit and the rock. He checked the pulse and when he realized that it was strong and that Thad was breathing, he rolled the unconscious man over onto his side in case he vomited again. He dried the rock with a handkerchief pulled from his pocket. He pressed a hand to Thad’s forehead and checked quickly. All residual Energy. Nothing that could hurt anybody. He gave the thumbs up to the window and the three doctors joined him shortly.
After checking to see that Jackson had no damage to examine, they all started to work on Thad, including Sandoval. Jackson just stood and watched. He was exhausted and Perma-Shift—the only thing that brought him pain—made his brain feel like it was splitting in two. Catching a glimpse at his watch told him he had only been at work for 20 minutes. Sandoval looked up at him then. Always the empath. “Go ahead, Jackson. You may want to lie down for a few minutes in the dormitory.”
Jackson turned to go, but hesitated even as the sensors made pinging noises when they dropped to the floor around him. He needed to give Randall the rock.
“For God’s sake, Jackson,” Randall said, reading his intent. “Take the rock with you. Put it somewhere only you can find it for now.”
Chapter 3
Saving: The Return
Jackson Rush was tired when he left work. So very tired. The encounter with Thad had drained him physically and emotionally. Although, that experience wasn’t what he would remember later about that day. Instead, he would remember the events about to change the course of his life. As it were, destiny was about to start. Exhausted or not. Ready or not.
Jackson walked into his apartment that evening and slipped in something slick. His shins bumped against a hard object and he fell forward. He tried to brace himself with his hands but they slipped in the dark, thick liquid on the pavement. He fell further forward until the side of his face hit the ground. Realizing that his legs were still lying on whatever he had tripped on, he flipped over onto his backside and scooted back, staying low. His eyes widened as he took in the dead red haired girl. Something dripped into his eye then onto his lips from the tip of his nose. When he raised a hand automatically to wipe it away, he saw that it was smeared crimson. Blood.
She was lying on her back. Her legs were closed and bent, her knees pointed to the East. Her arms curled gracefully at her sides. In the bright fluorescent light of the full moon, her skin was translucent and pale. The coppery red of her straw-straight hair emphasized the delicacy of her skin and small bones. He could make out green-blue veins in her jaw. She wore a white dress with glossy white boots. She lay in an oval of dark blood, almost black in the night. A smaller oval soaked her dress surrounding the hilt of a knife sticking straight up out of her stomach. Her fingertips and eyelids twitched. They were on a rooftop.
Jackson scuttled back even further away from her. Shaking his head slowly, he tried to deny the scene before him. He backed into a low wall at the edge of the roof. Quickly, he looked over his shoulder to see the twinkling skyline of his city. They were at least thirty floors up. He turned back to her. Her head lolled toward him. Her eyes were rolled into the back of her head, just slits of milky white. Then, as if from force of will, bright blue eyes snapped to attention and pinned him where he sat. Jackson swallowed. He tried to ask her who she was. He tried to ask her who did this to her. He tried to ask anything, but he couldn’t. Those eyes were on him. They held him and assessed him. When she blinked, tears streaked her cheeks, and her eyelids flickered convulsively again, he was able to ask her, “What happened to you?”
“My name is Bright Star.” She answered in a rasp. Forming words caused her to pant in grating wheezes as she struggled to breathe. Her eyes were wide. Blood trickled from the corner of her lips with each violent gasp. She swallowed and her auburn lashes fluttered as she stared upward. “I’ll be dead soon.”
“No!” Jackson rasped. Somehow, he found control of his limbs and rose up onto his knees at her side. He could handle this. He had been trained to handle this. He reached out to touch her hand with its endlessly working fingers. She was ice cold to the touch. He held those fingers still in his own, willing them to warm.
“You have great Talent,” she stated in a deeper voice than she’d used before. Her eyes that had been a clear aquamarine, blazed bright and turquoise. They were so bright that Jackson imagined her lids were tinted blue as she blinked.
Jackson shook his head. He needed to be clear. “Who are you, Bright Star? Please tell me.”
She started to speak but only managed a painstaking swallow. She opened her mouth again but only gurgled blood. Jackson pinched her nose with his left hand then used the fingers of his other to swipe excess liquid from her mouth, thinking that it was the second time in the day he had performed this technique. He pressed her tongue down then turned her head to the side to clear the last of the fluid. In the back of her throat, he could see a thick, bloody bubble. Her breath was sweet, salty and metallic. He blew into her lips and she swallowed again, this time less painfully and her airway seemed to be no longer blocked. “Talk to me,” he commanded again, shaking her wrist. He watched her hand flop at its end.
“I…I—”
“Come on,” Jackson coaxed.
“I’m dying,” she told him again.
“You’re not,” he told her forcefully, rubbing her fingers more briskly between his palms. But she shook her head silently, refuting his words. “Just keep talking to me. Keep talking. Tell me who you are.”
“I am a Shifter, like you,” she told him, though her words were slow and measured. She swallowed freely. “I am going to die in seven minutes. The Shift I used to bring you here required too much of me, more than I have to give. The Perma-Shift sped up the bleeding. I… I…”
Jackson considered her words. She was a Shifter. Not a Serviceman. Amazing. Impossible. Children with Talent never managed to avoid the Service. None with any real power as far as he knew had ever done it. The only Shifters who didn’t get fully assimilated were those whose Energy was so insignificant that they could pass for instinct, intuition, good luck even. But the Service still watched them, looking for the power to blossom into something more. This woman was powerful, maybe more than he was, but she was not a Serviceman.
An image of his brother Rush flashed in his mind. Jackson shook his head again. “How long have you been here?” He asked as he searched his pockets for his key ring. He didn’t have it, but located it on the ground, having dropped it when he fell. The mini flashlight on it beamed light in each of her eyes. Her eyes—God, they were incredibly blue—followed him intensely, but her pupils did not respond. He killed the light and her eyes drifted closed. Her fingers went limp in his hand, and he patted her cheek firmly to bring her back. Then he started talking to her again: “If you could call me—bring me here—you may have been able to save your own life. Why would you Shift to bring me here?” he asked roughly, though his voice sounded desperate.
Her eyes blazed brighter like a fire that had been stoked. “Save me,” She whispered in a full-hearted plea.
He would not tell her that he couldn’t save her, that he wasn’t sure he possessed the power to do so. “Why did you bring me here? Why won’t you save yourself?”
“I couldn’t. I can’t. I haven’t the Energy,” she answered, bringing one forearm up to cover her eyes. “Please,” she begged in an agonized croak.