Son of Lazarus

Chapter 15: The Hunt

December 21st, 2040
6:32 p.m.

   The air around me was cold and the sky above was softly overcast with thick, snow-heavy clouds. Tiny snowflakes had even begun to descend from the heavens, their many designs fluttering around me. I had forgotten just how beautiful winter truly was, especially here in the city.
   I was also having a difficult time believing that just a few months ago, the Incident had happened the week after my eighteenth birthday. But alongside my disbelief was a wash of relief. I was glad it had happened.   If it hadn't, I wouldn't have made it home to my father and Lily wouldn't have the loving home she had now. Then my thoughts turned toward the day I had told my father everything about the Incident.
   It was that day that I discovered who I was: the son of Zathora. Both she and the land beyond Hell were real. And according to my father, Lazarus was supposed to be my home, yet I somehow wound up in what my father had referred to as the Mortal Plane.
   Funnily enough, after that day, I had no more nightmares; no more scary thoughts or drifting darkness. For the first time in years, I felt at peace. Now my thoughts drifted toward my latest nightmare.

   Nothing too bad, but bad enough that it set me on edge. I remember running toward something in the distance, its shape resembling a van despite the distance. I remember hearing Lily screaming and shouting my name, scared.
   This wasn't the scariest thing about my recent nightmare. The scariest thing was that there was another human. He had been massive with huge, broad shoulders and matted blond hair. His eyes were mint green and seemed to glow.
   There was something about them that was unnatural to me, yet I couldn't identify it. It had thrown me into a panic, especially after I had seen the man rush me, transforming from a human into something else entirely.
   His muscles had expanded until they were almost falling out of his skin, his eyes had flashed until they nearly resembled the golden gaze of a wolf and his unnaturally long nails had hardened into talons.

   There was nothing natural about him and it was terrifying to know that someone like that existed at all. I still don't know what my nightmare was supposed to be portraying to me, but I had to find out.

   "Did you hear me?" Tristan was jerked free of his dark thoughts as a finger jabbed into his side.

   "Huh?" He turned his head to stare into the sapphire blue eyes of the girl he loved. She was giving him a specific look, her eyebrows standing neutral on her face and her jaw had hardened. Her lips pursed and at that moment, he realized she had been talking to him.
   "I'm sorry, Lily," he said, raising a hand to draw across the back of his neck. He watched as she folded her arms across her chest, her eyes staring at him in that specific girlfriend-like manner.
   "Tristan," she said, reaching over to give his shoulder a light hit. "You were supposed to be listening to me."
   "I'm sorry," he said again, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I was just thinking. I didn't realize you were trying to tell me something."
   "Obviously," she said, a chuckle rising into her throat. Tristan relaxed. At least she wasn't mad at him. He lifted his hand toward his head and planted it behind him, giving his hair a light ruffle as a soft chuckle rose from his lips.
   "Now," he said, straightening up and fixing her with his eyes. "What were you saying?"
   "That walking through walls isn't my real ability," she said. Curiosity rose into his chest like a tidal wave. One of his eyebrows cocked upward, encouraging her to continue.

   "I'm a Telepath," she continued. "Which means I can read, track, and kill the minds of others."

   "I'm sorry," Tristan said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Kill minds?" Lily nodded, her hands folding in her lap delicately.
   "How?"
   "Well," she began, acting as if this was the most normal explanation in the universe. "If enough pressure is applied to the mind, it can break. And...I'm kind of the only one who can do that. The only other person I knew who had this ability was my father."
   "How many others are out there," Tristan asked, glancing over at her as he leaned forward on the bench they'd been sitting on, his arms leaning against his knees. "Like us, I mean."
   "Lots," Lily answered, shifting her weight so that she was leaning against the back of the bench. "In all the years I spent at the asylum, I saw so many Variants come and go. But..."
   Lily broke off, her voice cracking to the point she had to swallow to keep her composure. "They were always subdued when they left," she continued softly, a hunted look crossing into her eyes for a brief second.
   "I never really understood why until I overheard the doctors saying something about Section Fifty-Seven."