Page 26 of Dark Visions

“W-was that real?” she said.

“It was real, baby. Too real. I remembered what Dr. Brennan said, and I tried to get you to focus on me.”

“Well, it worked. All I could see was the blood and the bodies. That woman… that woman is horrible. I think she’s worse than Krauss.” Kane nodded and pulled her tight against his chest. “I heard you. I heard your voice, and the images disappeared.”

“It was the same for me, baby,” he whispered.

“I think Dr. Brennan will want to hear about this,” she said.

“Later. It’s still early, baby. Sleep. We’ll have breakfast later and then go back to the university.”

Aislinn nodded and closed her eyes, no longer afraid of what might happen in the darkness. Kane was her light. Kane would always bring her into the light.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Phillip ‘Flip’ Cho was a mountain of a man. He’d always been bigger than the other children. Taller, wider, heavier. It was no different now, even though he was easily thirty pounds lighter than his normal weight. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t focus on anything.

As a child, Flip had been a precocious, curious boy. Athletic and articulate, he was popular in school with both teachers and girls. What no one knew was that at home, he was hiding a terrible secret that his strict parents punished him for every day. Every day until his sixteenth birthday. It was the day he realized he was too big for beatings. The day he knew he was able to care for himself.

Flip’s secret wasn’t one he could share with anyone. It wasn’t the kind of thing you told a school counselor or a buddy. That kind of secret would get you locked away in a nut house somewhere. The first time it happened, he was just a few years old. He didn’t even know why they spanked him. He only knew that he would never allow them to see it again.

The big event happened when he was twelve. It was his baseball team’s championship game, and he was the final hitter in a tie game with bases loaded. Swinging at a fastball, he hit with all his might and watched the ball as it went high. He knew instantly that it wouldn’t go over the fence. It was going to fall short, and the kid beneath it would be the hero of the game.

Flip remembered concentrating on the ball, wishing for it to go farther. He focused so hard his head began to throb, all within milliseconds of his thoughts. As if by his command, the ball took off and flew over the fence line. The stands were silent for a moment and then cheered wildly as he rounded the bases.

Afterwards, the umpires looked at the ball and bat carefully, trying to determine if something foul was amiss. Nothing discovered, Flip was the hero of the game. Somehow, his parents knew what he had done. Taking him home, they grounded him for a week, telling him he should never use his ability again. They knew, and yet he still had no knowledge of what he was capable.

Over the years, he practiced in the privacy of an empty field or condemned building. All he had to do was focus on an object, and he could make it move wherever he wanted. He vowed never to use it during his athletic events. It wouldn’t be fair. He wanted to win fair and square, and he always did.

After college, he joined the Army and thought he could escape his gift. However, the world has a way of saying ‘fuck you’ when you least expect it. Deployed to an elite unit, he couldn’t let his teammates die. More than a dozen times, he was able to move a weapon within reach of his men or move a weapon out of reach of the enemy. He made a brick wall cave in, a door slam shut, or a motorcycle fall over.

No one noticed. No one suspected. In the heat of battle, things happen so fast, and memories clouded by smoke and sound become war stories. Until he made an entire person move. It nearly killed him, but he couldn’t let his friend die.

The enemy pounded towards them. Outnumbered and fast running out of ammunition, Flip knew that they needed help. He was able to move items several times to block the path of the onslaught. Just as they heard the sound of the approaching helicopters, their ride home, an enemy soldier rounded the corner with a grenade in hand. He was headed for his buddy.

Flip didn’t hesitate. Concentrating on the soldier’s entire body, he pushed his mind further than ever before, his anger, fear, and hatred fueling his ability. The man suddenly airborne flew backwards and into a small building. Seconds later, the grenade exploded, killing him and giving Flip and his buddy time to get to the chopper.

On the bird, his nose began to bleed, his chest felt as if a thousand-pound weight was sitting on him. The medics quickly evaluated and thought he was having a panic attack, but looking at his buddy, he knew. Just by staring at him, he knew that someone knew his secret.

It was several days later before his friend approached.

“I don’t know what the fuck kind of juju that was but don’t ever fucking come near me again,” he said calmly and quietly.

“What are you talking about?” asked Flip.

“You know what I’m talking about. I’ve run that scene through my head a million times. Every scene I’ve ever been in with you. I don’t know what or who you are but keep that shit away from me.”

“So, I guess a thank you for saving your sorry ass is out of the question?” he asked flippantly.

“If it was my time, it was my time. You fucked with God, dude. I’m transferring.” He stared at Flip, and he could see the fear in his eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell your little secret. They’d all think I’m crazy anyway. Just stay the fuck away from me.”

He walked from the hut, and Flip let out a sigh of relief, but the sadness of losing his battle buddy was overwhelming for him. When his tour ended, he returned stateside and tried to live a normal life. His parents, now dead, had left him enough money to survive. Although, survive was a relative term for him. Traveling the country in a small motor home with only the necessities, he never stayed longer than he needed to.

Seeing Adam on the street had thrown his world into a spiral. He called out to him on the street, and Flip knew the voice, knew the sound of his friend, but couldn’t turn. He wouldn’t expose him to his curse. Walking out of the small diner, he turned toward the river, where he would follow it for the six miles toward the campground where he parked. It was his daily exercise routine.

“Flip! Flip!” he heard the call and tried to ignore it, but something about the voice made him turn. Fucking hell. Kane.

“Jesus! It’s really you! Adam said he saw you,” he said excitedly, pulling him in for a manly hug. “How are you, brother?”

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