Spires

Then

The group traveled in a formation of sorts to guard against potential dangers. Eron in front for his strength and ability to take a bullet, which essentially made him invincible until he found out otherwise. Behind him followed Megan and the kids, right in the center. Who, in turn were flanked by Remy and Nila. Bringing up the rear was Cal.

He didn’t much like Nila being exposed on the flank, but he couldn’t deny that diligent exercise and practice over the last two months, combined with her class had made her significantly stronger and provided quite a boost to her reflexes. Cal had sparred with her often in the backyard and at a guess he’d put her slightly above what he had been capable off when he was still actively practicing his boxing when he was in college nearly fifteen years ago. Of course, he himself had grown beyond his normal human reflexes.

Despite his new physical and mental edges, Cal felt vulnerable without his trusty camping ax in hand. He had left it back at Remy’s house along with every other weapon that he had carried on him whenever he had ventured outside. He figured showing up armed to the community center would draw the wrong kind of attention from the so-called police. It would mark them as threats and since he wanted to slide under their radar as much as possible, bringing gear was out. He wanted to be insignificant, worthy of contempt even, the sheep to their wolves. In case of some sort of trap, his group would be in a good spot to catch their potential enemies off guard.

No one in the group complained much. It seemed that none of them had gotten comfortable being armed, like he was. While Eron was strong enough now that his entire body was better than sharp bits of metal or hunks of bludgeoning wood. Cal had even left his trusty folding knife, something that he had gotten into the habit of carrying in his pocket every day for as long as he could remember.

True to the purported policemen’s word the street that led to the community center was clear of any mutated animals. Here and there Cal noted remains. Birds and squirrels from the looks of the roadkill like smears. In other spots there were only small splatters of blood to mark the kills.

Stranger still was that Cal’s group was not alone. There were other people walking together. They eyed each other warily, but still walked fairly close together. Preferring the familiarity of fellow humans, even if they were all strangers.

The crowd swelled in size as they drew closer to the community center. Cal guessed that there were close to three hundred people of all types. Young and old, different races. It was good to see that they weren’t exactly alone, but it was accompanied by the sobering thought that there should’ve been thousands just in the immediate neighborhood tracts. A part of him hoped that perhaps they were being gathered in smaller groups, but the realist in him doubted the chances of that being the case.

Cal studied the mass of people in the parking lot of the community center. There were a couple of lines formed with men in police uniforms at both the front and tail ends.

His group made their way to the back of the line where several cops were directing traffic. One of the men directed Eron to the left most line with a forceful jab of his baton. Unfriendly indeed.

While he waited, Cal studied the cops. He counted a total of ten within sight. He noted that their uniforms had seen better days. Torn in places, bloodstained. The cops themselves were sporting their own wounds, bruised and bandaged. He didn’t much like the looks in their eyes. As if they were just waiting, even expecting violence at any second. Worse, Eron might’ve been right, the cops were all white.

It didn’t take long for his group to reach the front of their line when a problem arose.

“What do you mean?” Eron’s angry voice reached back to Cal.

“Are you refusing to obey my orders, citizen?”

Again Cal heard the sneer in the cop’s words. The man was huge, bulky in a power lifter way. By the way he held himself, Cal already knew the man was a bully, used to throwing his size around to get his way. Of course that meant nothing now that Eron had been changed, but then again, what if the cop had his own powers?

“We’re not separating,” Eron said flatly.

The cop gripped his baton tighter in his beefy hands. Cal could see the whiteness around the knuckles.

“Eron!” Cal said. “What’s going on?”

His brother shot Cal a significant look.

“Standard procedure,” the cop said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Women and children inside, men outside.”

“Why?” Cal spoke with his mildest tone.

“Don’t know,” the cop shrugged. “I’m just following my orders. Now are you going to comply or am I going to make you.”

The cop just lied, Cal knew that much, but he didn’t want to make a scene and start a fight. Too many unknowns, too many risks to his family and the innocent people packed tightly together.

“No, we’ll comply.” Cal ignored the angry look on Eron’s face as he turned to Nila. “Don’t worry, I’ve got something I can do to make sure they don’t try anything with you guys,” he whispered. “Keep an eye on Megan and the kids. If they try anything, fight back and make as much of a commotion as you can,” he tapped his temple, “you won’t be alone. I’ll be right there with you.”

“Be careful, Cal,” Nila said as she drew him into a tight hug. “I trust you,” she whispered in his ear.

“I know you can take care of yourself.”

The group went their separate ways. The women and girls into the community center, while the men followed the line that led around the side and to the back, where the park was located. It didn’t escape Cal’s notice that there wasn’t a single white face in their line.

“What the hell man?!” Eron rounded on Cal as soon as they found a relatively open spot.

The line ended at a large chain-linked fenced in area in the park behind the community center. To say that things took a troublesome turn was an understatement.

Cal looked around at the other men corralled in with them. They ran from young to old and were a varied mix of ethnicities, with the aforementioned exception.

“Couldn’t risk violence,” Cal said.

“Did you forget that I’m basically Superman. I would’ve smashed those racist shits?” Eron fumed.

“Keep your voice down,” Remy said.

Cal shook his head. “It would’ve turned into a riot. Too many innocent people would’ve gotten hurt. Megan and the kids, Nila.”

“You never split the party,” Eron said, still upset. “Now we’re in a concentration camp and they’re in there without us.” He jabbed a finger toward the community center.

“I’ve got a plan,” Cal said. “I’m going to try something. It should keep them safe. I just need you to block me from their line of sight.” He gestured toward a pair of cops watching the crowd from the other side of the chain link fence. Surprisingly these two each held a shotgun in their hands. A question for another time.

Cal drew inward, focusing on only his thoughts. The commotion around him fell away.

He’d first noticed it soon after his visit into the spire. He mistook it as a buzzing sound in his ears. As the days and weeks passed it slowly changed. It turned into whispers, mumbled words that he couldn’t quite make out. He had thought that he was going crazy. That the truism that power always came at a cost was bearing out.

He could’ve kicked himself for being so stupid when he finally realized what was going on. Telepathy, half of the class that the spire had said he had. What he was hearing were the thoughts of those around him. An embarrassing epiphany that he resolved to keep to himself.

As part of practice he had devoted time to building a mental wall to keep those thoughts out of his head. Both to respect the privacy of others and to keep his sanity. He wasn’t naive enough to think that good things would come from unfettered access to other minds.

Thus it was understandable that he only broke the wall with great trepidation.

This time though, he was certain that it needed to be done if he wanted to ensure the safety of his loved ones.

The onslaught of the many dozen minds around him nearly knocked him flat. Mingled fear, anger, and hatred, an overwhelming tide of negative thoughts no longer blocked crashed into him. He spared them a feeling of sympathy. These people all had cause and right to think as they did, corralled like animals, less than human, which he supposed was the point. Perhaps as he grew stronger and honed his power he’d learn to help alleviate such thoughts. For now he focused on the last, the hatred.

There were threads he could follow. Like lures that pulsed bright red, leading back to their sources. They were in the minority, the true hatred. He found some within the crowd that was trapped with him. These he dismissed.

The ones he wanted were the ones beyond the fence. As soon as he latched on to the first few he knew that he found the people he was looking for. Using their connections to each other, their shared hatred, he followed branching paths to more inside the community center and out front in the parking lot. Twenty-three in total.

The light touch into their minds was enough to be certain that they meant ill for them all. A part of him found it difficult to accept that they were truly the police. There was a chance that they had simply stolen the uniforms and gear. The cynic in him remembered his history. Being a police office didn’t necessarily make one a good person, let along one that followed the law. And in times of crisis the law often broke down with alarming ease, turning it into a world where the strong rule and every man takes whatever they can until someone stronger stops them.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t skilled or strong enough to discern more. It was taking everything he had to even attempt this gambit. Satisfied that he had the minds he needed to target in metaphorical hand and before he lost that grip, he pushed.

He knew nothing more as everything turned black.

“Cal, wake up! Cal!”

Someone was shaking him.

“We don’t have time for this. They’ve finished processing everyone that was out front. Wake your ass up!”

Now someone was slapping his face.

“Fuck,” Cal groaned as he feebly tried to ward of the blows. “I’m up.”

“What the hell happened?” Remy was on one knee over Cal’s supine form. “You started bleeding and passed out.”

“Yeah man, you got all those muscles, but you pass out like a little bitch.” Snickers followed a voice Cal didn’t recognize.

“I thought they were separating all the men out. What’s a little kid doing here?” Cal looked at the boy for a moment. Scrawny, spiky black hair. Asian descent. He wasn’t sure what specifically. Nila would’ve chided him for it. It was a tad hypocritical, he’d admit, after all the part of the world he was from was Asia-adjacent.

“Shut up, kid, adults are talking,” Eron said as he shouldered the teenager out of the way. “So, did it work? Cause it better have. Otherwise you bled out of literally every hole in your head for nothing.”

Cal looked from Eron to Remy.

“Not exactly. Nose and ears and your eyes have less white than red now,” Remy said.

Cal wiped at his upper lip and below his ears. His hands came away with dried flakes of blood. “Really, none of you thought to wipe it off.”

His two younger brothers both shrugged.

“Fine, whatever. Important thing is that they’re safe for now.” Cal raised a hand. “It’s complicated, but to keep in simple I pushed a thought into the heads of all those so-called cops. It’ll keep them from acting on any bad thoughts they have towards anyone in there, specifically Nila, Megan, and the kids.”

“Oh shit! You have powers!” The Asian kid poked his head between Eron and Remy’s shoulders. “Me and my bros got some magic too!”

Cal ignored the kid as he pulled himself up to a seated position. He stayed there a moment as the movement made his head swim and his vision darken for a few seconds. When it passed he took a few deep breaths. “How long was I out?”

“About three hours judging by the sun,” Remy said.

“You said they finished processing everyone. What do you mean exactly?”

“No more people out front. They’ve got all the men fenced in with us. Women and kids inside the center.”

“I just want to clarify something,” Cal said. “There aren’t any white people here with us are there?”

“I told you I was getting that vibe,” Eron said.

“Okay, that is disheartening,” Cal said.

“What’s the plan?” Remy was worried. “You said you don’t know how long what you did to them will last… so, that means we need to act quickly.”

“Easy, I’ll just hop over this fence and beat the crap out of everyone wearing a uniform,” Eron said. “Meanwhile you guys can make sure Megan, the kids, and Nila are safe.”

“Excuse me, but that’ll endanger everyone here.” Another strange voice chimed in. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you three think you’re capable of, but I think it’ll be safer for everyone involved if we remain calm and listen to the police.”

“Man, you are crazy,” the Asian kid snapped at the middle-aged man. “Those ‘cops’ are straight up Nazis. They’ve got us all concentrated together in this camp. Probably just waiting for the right moment to drop some gas on us.”

“Gene! Show some respect.” Another man came up to grab the teenager by the arm. Judging by their resemblance and apparent age difference Cal figured they were father and son.

“Those cops hate us,” Cal said, “strongly. I saw it their thoughts. And if you haven’t noticed they and all their guns are facing us.”

“You can hear their thoughts?” The first man scoffed. “Are you crazy? Listen to yourself.”

“Look around you then look at them,” Cal said. “Notice something?”

The man looked like he was about to open his mouth, but something in Cal’s eyes stopped him. Instead he did as Cal asked. He shook his head, frowned, then walked away.

This left Cal with just his brothers, Gene and his dad and three other teenage boys that weren’t there a few moments ago.

“This is my party,” Gene said as he introduced his friends. “Johnny, Bastien, and Olo,” there was a pause, “and we’ve got magic powers too.”

Eron threw his hands up in the air. “Oh for fu—”

“Wait.” Cal regard the three boys. He figured they were all somewhere around the age of fourteen and fifteen. Hispanic, another Asian, and Black. “What can you all do?”

“I got magic missile,” Gene grinned.

“Seriously?” Eron’s gaze snapped to the teen. “How does it work? Do you have to speak an incantation? Finger symbols?” He did something with his hands and fingers that made it look like he was having a seizure. “Did you get a spell book, like a wizard? Or is it more like you just know the spell in your head, like a sorcerer?”

“C’mon man!” Remy snapped. “You can play D&D later. We don’t have time for this.”

“Nothing like that, I sorta just point a finger and think about shooting it,” Gene shrugged.

“How many times can you fire one off?” Cal ignored the snickers from Gene’s friends, pardon, party.

“Once a day,” Gene said as he turned red.

Not especially useful for the moment then. Cal looked at the other boys. “You, you, then you,” he pointed at Johnny, Bastien, and Olo, “tell me what you can do and how often. Make it quick.”

The three snapped to attention and looked anywhere but at him. Cal suppressed a wince. Maybe he was being a little harsh.

“I can sneak! Uh… if I hold my breath I can move really quiet, but I need a while to catch my breath before I can do it again,” Johnny said.

Pretty useful for scouting if Cal was willing to put an untrained teenager into a dangerous situation, which he wasn’t.

“I can heal, but I have to say a whole prayer. I’m not sure, but I think I can heal more if I say a longer prayer,” Bastien said.

That one was very useful.

“How often can you do this and what sort of injuries can you heal?”

“I’ve only tried it on cuts and bites, but it works good… oh and I can maybe do it three or four times a day.”

“Alright you’re turn,” Cal nodded to Olo.

“I’ve got like a power strike. I can hit really hard, but I get really tired after I use it, like I can barely lift my arms and it takes me like a couple of hours to recover. Oh and I need a weapon or something. Although I’ve never tried it with like a punch,” Olo said as the twinkle of an idea blossomed in his eyes.

Cal took in the teenager’s thin arms and generally pudgy physique. Truly the stereotypical gamer’s physique. Once again he chided himself for being hypocritical, he himself was a fond practitioner of the gaming arts and was pudgy at some point in his early life. Judged not, lest ye be judged, he remembered the saying.

“Smart that you’d want to test that out, but I wouldn’t do it at least not until you figure out exactly how much force you put out with that ability,” Cal said. “If you tried it now you’d break every bone in your hand, wrist and arm.”

Olo nodded, chagrined.

“So, what do you want us to do?”

“Absolutely not!” Gene’s father grabbed his son by the arm.

“Don’t worry… I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name,” Cal stood and held out his hand.

“Randolph,” Gene’s father shook Cal’s proffered hand, “and you–”

“Like I said, don’t worry I’m not going to put them in danger. However,” Cal noticed that a larger group of men were gathered around now and were watching, listening, “we have loved ones in there and we’re concerned about their safety.” He held up a hand and used a bit of his telepathic abilities to nudged the men enough so that they silenced the protests on the tips of their tongues. Cal suppressed a wince at the sharp pain in his brain, which merely added to the already piercing headache he had since he woke up. “Believe me when I say that these so-called police have bad things in mind for your, our, wives, daughters, girlfriends. I don’t think I need to remind you what happens to women and girls in situations like this. History keeps proving that.” He paused to wet his lips. He’d never been one for public speaking. His mouth tended to dry out when he was nervous. “We’re not going to let things just happen. We’ll welcome any help.”

Suddenly there was a trilling chime in Cal’s ears. “Did any of you hear tha—” He stopped cold at the shared looks of confusion on his brothers’ faces. He saw the same in the four teens.

Words were spoken in that familiar voice that somehow managed to sound deep and high, soft and loud, man and woman, distinct from each other, yet a jumbled mix at the same time. And yet, that wasn’t all. The words were also written in text, simultaneously, independently, and both. It was enough to make a man think he was going crazy.

“Oh no,” Cal groaned.

Congratulations!

You have discovered your first Quest!

Rescue your loved ones.

Defeat your enemies.

Success Parameters: Varied.

Failure Parameters: Varied.

Reward: Contingent.

Failure: Contingent.

Will you accept?

“Yes!” Cal heard six different voices.

“Yes,” he added grimly.