Page 6 of Empowereds

6

C harity’s family sat underneath a tree on the edge of the farm, ostensibly for an early morning breakfast picnic. A poor cover story. Who would ever want to eat outside on a blanket? The nice thing about going home after a day’s work was that you were inside, without the bugs running into you and the wind blowing bits of leaves into your food.

“It’s time we put an end to any bad feelings between us,” her father said.

Milo’s lips pressed in a tight, unhappy line. Three weeks had passed since they’d been captured at the market, and although things between him and Zia had returned to normal that same day, Milo’s relationship with their father continued to be strained. Even Gregor couldn’t joke Milo out of his foul mood.

“I understand your feelings,” their father said. “You think I knowingly sent you into danger once, so what’s to stop me from doing it again? The problem is I can’t promise you I won’t do it again. I can only promise to be more upfront with you about what I know right now.”

Well, that was a change in policy. Generally, their father only told them what they had to know, and he waited until the last minute to do it. That way the family couldn’t accidentally slip up and reveal they had pre-knowledge of an event. Charity understood the principle, but it was a hassle when she’d made plans on her day off, just to be woken up at the crack of dawn and told to spend the day harvesting tomatoes to avoid a freak hailstorm.

Her mother leaned toward them. “We’re going to show you the notebook.”

Charity’s gaze went to her brothers to see if they knew what their mother was talking about. Both looked equally confused.

“What notebook?” Charity asked.

Her father took a bite of his breakfast, a thick piece of bread spread with jam. “Your mother keeps track of all my visions. We’ve done our best to map them out so we know which ones we need to worry about next and so we don’t forget to do something important.” He nodded at her mother, and she pulled a small sketchbook from the food basket.

“Today, we’re showing them all to you,” her father said. “Some of the visions you already know about. Others you don’t. But this will assure you that we aren’t purposely keeping any dangerous situations from you.”

Her mother opened the sketchbook. She’d made sections across the pages like a datebook. A color-coded list on one side detailed the visions. Large spaces separated each of the sections so more writing could be added.

She handed the notebook to Milo first. Apparently, in this situation, it paid to be the sullen, angry child. Charity scooted closer and peered over his shoulder to read.

Some predictions were written off to the side, showing her father hadn’t known the date but knew the general point on the timeline. Some had question marks as to where they fit in the timeline. A few that had already been crossed off dealt with New Salem, where their grandmother and uncle’s family lived. One vision was just a number. At some point, Milo needed to switch vehicles with Charity.

The vision of the matches was the last one crossed off the list. Charity gulped when she saw the one that followed.

Charity’s husband comes to the co-op .

It could still be months away or only days.

After that, the visions said the group should carry extra water bottles. No explanation. The following entry was: Take the newlyweds to the cabin for two weeks.

Charity had known about that prediction for several months. Her father had seen a vision of himself and Charity’s mother driving in their van. Her mother turned in her seat to speak to people in the back—presumably Charity and her husband. She said, “It’s time to drop the newlyweds off at the cabin for a couple of weeks.”

The fact that Charity’s honeymoon made the list of predictions was odd in and of itself. Why was knowing about something that most couples did important enough to merit a vision? Zia hadn’t been mentioned in any of her father’s predictions, let alone her and Milo’s honeymoon plans.

Although, perhaps the time or the location was the key. Harvesters generally only took a week off, and most spent the time in a city, taking advantage of the amenities there—shopping, restaurants, and entertainment.

Charity’s father had bought an underground cabin in the woods to use as an occasional family retreat and also as a hideout, should they ever need one.

Seeing these predictions listed so soon on the timeline made her heart race. She’d daydreamed about meeting her husband for four years. It would happen soon.

Milo flipped the page, checking to see what was written there. “These are all the predictions?”

“All the ones to date,” her father said. “Sometimes I don’t get a vision until shortly before the event happens.”

Milo frowned. “How am I supposed to know whether any of these are dangerous or not? The prediction about the matches didn’t seem dangerous. We all figured Charity would wander off, get lost somewhere, and either need the matches to find her way home or start a fire.”

Charity dipped her chin. “You all thought I was going to get lost?”

Milo rolled his eyes. “You’re always wandering off when you shouldn’t.”

Not really. “Going outside for privacy to read is different than wandering off.” The bunkhouses weren’t big or well-lit.

“The point is,” her father said, interrupting the argument, “I don’t know when something is going to be dangerous. Or at least not how dangerous. I figure the one where we’re all carrying extra water with us won’t be a fun day, but the predictions are to keep us out of harm’s way. As long as we follow them, we have the best chance of keeping safe. If I get a vision that tells me to walk through a burning building, I’m going to do it because it will work out for my good in the end.”

Gregor and Zia scooted closer to Milo to peer at the pages.

“How can you be sure about that?” Zia squinted at some of the writing. “You don’t know where these visions come from. All the psychics the government has executed—their predictions helped them do bad things. And in the end, the police captured them. Remember that one lady whose visions told her the location of someone’s jewel collection? Her predictions didn’t help her when she tried to sell the stuff. She fell right into the government’s trap.”

They all knew the story. The woman had been the first psychic caught three decades ago. A lot of news reports showed her being peacefully led away in handcuffs, looking ashamed. That was a better image for the Empowered Affairs Department than some of their captures—bullet-ridden bodies being dragged out of cars were less tasteful on the news.

Zia ran a finger along the list. “How do you know you can trust the visions not to lead you wrong? That first psychic’s visions told her to rob a place.”

Charity’s parents exchanged a glance. Neither said anything for a moment, then her father said, “I think it’s safe to tell her.”

Zia’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, there’s some other secret I’ve just become trustworthy to know?”

Charity’s mother sighed. “It’s not that we don’t trust you. It’s that we believe the less everyone knows, the safer we’ll all be.”

Charity’s father glanced around. The lettuce fields didn’t hide much so they could’ve seen anyone approaching for half a mile. He checked out of habit before talking about his powers. “I wasn’t always a psychic.”

Zia cocked her head. People had different theories as to why some people developed powers. Most believed the genetic tinkering scientists had done to increase people’s IQs caused the problem. Some said manufacturers had tampered with the world’s food genetic makeup so much they changed human genes as well. Others thought a government project had gone wrong.

Charity’s father lowered his voice and rested his elbows on his legs. “I was thirteen when Empowereds first began popping up in society. Initially, we thought they were amazing. Everyone wanted special abilities back then, at least until we saw how Empowereds used them. Before they showed up, the nation seemed as impervious as a battleship. But given enough attacks, even a battleship will take on water and sink.

“The Empowereds stole so many things. Fortes could rip doors from safes, and the police were ill-equipped to fight telekinetics. They just turned the officers’ weapons against them.

“The worst, though, were the psychics who traded government secrets to terrorists. I still can’t believe people would sell out entire countries that way.

“I’m not surprised the government decided they had to eliminate Empowereds. I don’t blame people for hating us. Enough people remember what life was like before—so peaceful and safe. So abundant. Then I saw my city reduced to rubble. My father died during the bombings. We lived in refugee tents in Charlottesville and did odd jobs to survive.”

He paused. “I’m rambling. That’s another reason I shouldn’t speak of these things.” He cleared his throat and began again. “I was seventeen when I saw a man being chased through the city by four other men. He came running down the street, and I figured he was another poor slob about to become a gang victim. I stepped into the alley and told him to follow me. With only a moment of hesitation, he went with me. The other men had seen where we’d gone, but I knew my way around the abandoned buildings.

“I took him out the back into a pile of rubble where I’d discovered an opening to what had once been an underground parking lot. We hid there, not daring to speak. But after the footsteps faded, I turned on my flashlight and saw he was injured. Blood dribbled out of his ear. I told him I would take him to a hospital.

“He looked at me suspiciously and said, ‘What’s your price for that sort of help?’

“I knew what he meant. Most of the refugees in the city only helped someone if they could get something in return.

“‘I won’t charge you,’ I said. ‘But after that, if you’d like your house cleaned or your garbage buried, we’ll talk payment.’

“The man refused. ‘I can’t see a doctor. I’m a fugitive. Just leave me here.’”

“It hadn’t even occurred to me that he might be a criminal. I had no idea what to do. I figured since the man was injured, I could get away from him if I needed to, but I wasn’t sure whether I should go for a medic anyway. It seemed wrong to walk away from an injured man.

“While I decided what to do, he said, ‘Are you waiting for me to die so you can go through my pockets?’

“‘No,’ I said, ‘You don’t look like you’d have anything I want, and I’m not stupid enough to put on the clothes of a wanted man. No telling how bad the police’s eyesight is.’

“The man didn’t speak for several moments and then said, ‘My problem was greed. But most people are greedy.’ He took hold of my wrist. ‘Do you think you could have done better?’”

“His grip wasn’t too tight, so I wasn’t afraid. I figured I’d humor him. ‘If I were greedy, I would’ve left to see if there’s a reward for turning you in. But I’m still here. Maybe I’m hoping there’s something good in your pockets after all.’

“He half-smiled. ‘We’ll see. I’ll give you all I have.’ Then his eyes flashed white, and I felt something like a mild electric current go from his body into mine.

“I asked what he’d done. I’d heard psychics’ eyes glowed white whenever they had a vision, but I’d never heard anything about electric currents.

“The man took a gasping breath. ‘Tell me the honest truth no matter how bad it makes you look. What do you want most in life?’

“It was such an odd question that I thought the man’s mind was going. I already knew what was most important to me. I worked for it every day. ‘Keeping my family safe so that one day we can live in a good place again.’

“The man relaxed, slumping back on the ground. ‘You’ll be alright then,’ he said. ‘That’s what the visions will show you. My mistake was caring about wealth.’

“I didn’t know what he meant. I thought his words were the mumblings of a dying man. A couple of days later, I had my first vision. I’d lied about not going through his pockets. After he died, I found two gold rings.

“I sold one and was taking some supplies home to my family. The vision showed me a gang lying in wait near the end of the street. I turned around and walked a mile out of my way to avoid them.’”

Charity’s father shook his head. “I’ve never had a vision tell me where wealth was. They’ve all been about keeping my family safe. And that’s why I can trust the visions.”

Zia’s mouth had dropped open during his story. “The man gave you his psychic power? That’s possible?”

Her father nodded. “Seems so.”

Zia leaned forward, processing this information. “Are all the powers transferable?”

Her father took a bite of his food, considering the matter. “If they are, the government either doesn’t know about it or doesn’t give that sort of information to the public.”

“They must not be,” Charity said. “Otherwise, wouldn’t most Empowereds give away their abilities so they’re no longer hunted by the government?”

“Maybe not,” her father said. “I’ve never tried to give mine away. Perhaps it’s human nature to hold onto a superpower even if it puts you in danger. The benefits seem to outweigh the risks. Or perhaps transferring powers can’t be done unless one is dying. I haven’t tried that yet, either.”

Milo turned to the end of the sketchbook. The last square simply said Ben’s eyes . “What’s does the entry about Dad’s eyes mean?”

“It was just that,” their father said. “I saw a vision of my eyes looking startled. I’ve no idea what it means, but it’s the last vision on my timeline so far.”

Charity’s mother forced a smile and took the sketchbook from Milo. “It could mean anything, really. A surprise doesn’t necessarily mean anything bad is going to happen. Maybe it’s the last vision because we’ll be at New Salem after that, and we’ll be safe from everything.”

Gregor snorted. “That would be a startling surprise.”

Charity turned to her father and pressed the point. “When you saw your face looking startled, did you seem happy or afraid?”

“It wasn’t my face, only an extreme close-up of one of my eyes. My eye widened, and my pupil suddenly dilated in surprise.”

Charity had never even considered what her pupils did when she was surprised. Why would the visions show her father that?

She knew her parents had meant to reassure the rest of the family by showing them the list of visions. But that last vision didn’t reassure her at all.