Hunter Hayes Imgaines

Powers (Part 2)

“Help me,” I repeat, my voice cracking with fear. I point at the van. “They’re trying to get me. I need to hide; I can’t go back.”

The man is speechless with his jaw slack. He glances at the van.

When he doesn’t reply, I wrap my hand around his arm to get his attention and say, desperate, “Please.”

The man looks down at me and gulps. “Follow me.”

The man takes my hand and leads me away from the van with fast footsteps. I stumble over my feet at first, but then I get into the swing of things and am able to keep up with him. My bare feet slap against the sidewalk.

I turn my head as we run, my hair and gown whipping against my body in the breeze. I spot four men who are disguised as mechanics climb out of the white van and casually speed walk in our direction.

They’re coming after me.

I turn back and focus on the man’s grip on my hand. His hand is big and soft, easily covering my entire small boney hand.

The man and I turn a corner, the scientists dressed as mechanics now out of view. I feel myself relax in the slightest. The blond man, whom I still don’t know the name of, steps in front of a black car and opens the passenger side door. He ushers me in without saying a word before walking over to his side and then driving away quickly.

As he drives to an unknown destination with his eyes locked on the road, I sink back into the seat and release a breath as I close my eyes. My head leans back on the seat, exhausted. I don’t think running was the smartest idea for my malnourished body.

My eyes flicker open when the man beside me starts to talk.

“I’m Hunter.”

I turn my head and watch him curiously. “I’m (y/n).”

He smiles, glancing at me for a second before his eyes find their way back to the road. “Why… what…” He purses his lips in thought. “Can you please explain this situation? Am I going to end up in jail or anything?”

I smile lightly at his sudden nervousness. “Relax,” I tell him. “You’re not doing anything illegal.” I bite down on my lip. “And the situation…. it’s complicated.”

“I don’t mind,” Hunter says.

I sigh. “Don’t freak out.”

“What?”

“Promise,” I say in all seriousness, “Promise me that you won’t freak out.”

Still driving, Hunter looks over at me. “Okay. I promise.”

I nod, then focus on Hunter. Something clicks in my mind. “So, do you like this weather?” I ask, trying to get Hunter to talk.

He gives me an odd look before opening his mouth. No sound comes out. He looks a little panicked, so I focus again and then he talks. “What… that was weird, I was trying to talk but-”

“I know,” I interrupt. “I did that. I can also do this.” I focus on the lights above us on the ceiling of the car. They start to blink on and off and on and off, over and over. Hunter looks up at them, his eyes flickering back and forth from the road and the ceiling.

“Wait, you’re doing that? How? Am I dreaming or something?”

I chuckle lightly. “No, you’re not dreaming. And yes, I am doing that. I can manipulate artificial light and sound waves, which is why I needed your help,” I explain. “You see, those mechanic looking people from those vans? Yeah, they had me locked up in this funky lab thing for the past four years where they experimented and poked me with needles and did stuff to me.” I shudder at some of the memories.

Hunter pulls over to the side of the road. He stares ahead of him out of the windshield silently.

“I’m not making this up, I swear,” I promise him. “I just escaped from their lab, and now they’re looking for me. I can’t go back. Please, don’t let them find me.” I add in a whisper, “Please.”

Hunter runs a hand through his hair, messing it up a little. He turns and looks at me. “How is this possible?”

“Beats me,” I answer honestly.

He nods. “Alright, I’ll help you. I’m guessing you don’t have a place to stay?”

I tap my nose. “Bingo.”

He starts the car up again. “Do you want to stay at my place? I promise that I’m not some weird pedophile.”

I smile. “That sounds nice. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He pulls back into the streets. “So you haven’t been outside in four years, right?”

“Right.”

He smirks. “So you haven’t had coffee in four years?”

“Right again.”

“Well,” he says, glancing over at me, “(Y/N), how would you like it if we stopped for a minute so you can have your first coffee in four years? I know that I can’t even go a day without any.”

A/N:
Hey hayniacs!! So hope_sees_the_stars requested a part two, so here it is! I hope you hayniacs like it! I think I'll be writing a part three soon? Comment if you want a part three!

Thanks!