Escape Into the Darkness

I peeked cautiously out the window. It was still raining. Night was creeping near.

Night was the friend of the hunted. Rain, not so much.

I slipped back down below the window sill, becoming invisible to anyone outside who might be looking for me. Might be? Who was I kidding? Would be. Already was.

I turned to look at the small group of children who were behind me, crouched in the darkness of the ancient storage room. They looked scared. I wondered what I looked like, then decided I didn’t want to know.

I hitched my best “Everything’s going to be fine” smile onto my face. They didn’t look like they were buying it. I didn’t blame them. It seemed unlikely that anything was going to be fine.

“It’s almost dark,” I whispered. “Not long now. Be ready.”

Heads nodded wordlessly. Shadowed eyes looked up at me with varying levels of trust and fear. I was their last option. Their only option. And we all knew it.

If I could get us all out, we lived. If I failed, we all died. Or worse. It was simple and terrifying.

I reached into my backpack and pulled out what rations I had left. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I began portioning it out to the children. Jonas, the oldest boy, shook his head, turning down his share of the rations. It was a noble gesture, but at this point, we couldn’t afford noble gestures.

“Jonas. A word,” I whispered. “You, too, Magda,” I added, beckoning the oldest girl. “Bring your rations. Both of you,” I ordered. Magda, who had been breaking her share into smaller pieces, looked at me in surprise. “All of your rations, please, both of you.” The younger children hastily returned the smaller pieces they had just received from the two oldest.

I led them a few steps away. “But, Aubrey - “ Magda began to protest. I cut her off.

“Look,” I whispered, making sure none of the younger kids were close enough to hear, “I get it. I do. You want to help them, and you’re willing to sacrifice yourselves for them. It’s an admirable sentiment.” They shuffled their feet and looked embarrassed in the half-darkness. “But.” I reached out to take their hands, making sure that I had their undivided attention. I had it. Their eyes were locked on mine. “But. We can not afford noble gestures right now.” Anger flashed in Jonas’s eyes, and he made as if to protest. “No, hear me out. I need you two. I cannot do this without you.”

They stilled, all their attention on me. “I am one person. Granted, my powers give me a bit of an edge, but I am still only one person. There are six children, including you. I will do my very best to get us safely out of here. But if my best isn’t good enough - “ I looked gravely at the two teens. “ - then it is up to you.” I saw the impact of the message hit them. Shock. Fear. Then determination. Each child-warrior straightened with resolve and nodded courageously.

“So you see,” I concluded, “I need you two to stay strong. And that means taking your share. Taking care of yourselves. You can’t take care of them” - I nodded in the direction of the children - “if you don’t take care of yourselves. Promise me.”

Each nodded, and sketched a touching “Cross My Heart” that nearly undid me. God, they were brave. But so young. So very young.

“Okay. Eat!” I said, sending them back to the cluster of children.

I turned away to sit on a crate a little bit away from them. I had to think. I had to “seek.” I had to come up with a plan to get us out of this mess. I had until nightfall, and then we had to move.

Many people were likely after us. Teachers. Headmasters. Priests. The heads of Organized Crime families from several continents. Scientists and pseudo-scientists. For all I knew, the police and the FBI. And the CIA and Homeland Security.

Why? Because we were special. We were part of a growing group of people with special powers of one kind or another. Some of us had “gentle” powers, such as transforming leaves and sticks into fanciful creatures. Some of us had more useful powers, such as becoming invisible or flying. Some of us, like me, could “read” the minds of others, and influence their thoughts and actions. Some of us had frightening, overwhelming powers such as telekinesis, or the ability to melt or freeze substances with just a look. The list went on and on.

More of us were turning up all the time, and no one knew why. No one knew why we could do the things we did. And no one knew how to control us.

When people become aware of a group of oddly-powerful people, there is always trouble. They don’t understand us. They fear us. They fear our powers.They fear our influence on their children, our effect on their lives. And when people are afraid, they allow terrible things to happen.

I had grown up in an institution called Gadsden Hall. The “Masters” presented it as a school, but really it was a prison, a secret lab where children like me were studied and experimented on in the name of “Science.” I had been lucky enough - and skilled enough with my power - to escape. I found my way to a real school for people like me, one that helped its special students to explore and learn to control our powers. When I was old enough, I stayed on as Staff. My role became the important one of seeking out these special children, identifying them, explaining their powers to them, and inviting them to come with me to New Day school, where they could learn and grow and be safe.

Safe. Fine job I was doing on that! Here I was, responsible for a bunch of scared kids, hiding out in a basement and trying desperately to come up with a plan that wouldn’t get us all killed.

“It is what it is,” I told myself. “Now think!”

I took three deep breaths to calm myself. Then I tentatively reached out to my charges with my mind. I touched their minds gently, calming them, checking their mental state. I sent a wave of positivity to each of them, strengthening them, giving them the self-confidence that they would need to ensure our success. I reached a little deeper, to catalog their gifts and their skill levels. Was there anything I could use?

Hannah and Ethan, the twins, were the youngest at five years old. They could read each other’s minds easily, and carry on mental conversations between them, regardless of how far apart they were. Their ability to “talk” silently with each other could be handy. Scouts, perhaps?

Malcolm, six and a half, had an interesting ability to communicate with small creatures of the darkness: spiders, cockroaches, mice, rats, bats. He could get them to do things for him, like crawl on another student as a prank. Bats were his favorites, and he liked to call them to flutter around him as a living cape while he pretended he was Batman. “A bat-shield,” I thought. “That could work!”

Samantha, at ten, was a quiet girl who didn’t really believe in her own power. She had great potential, I felt, but she needed to develop confidence. Her power was to persuade others to help her, in whatever way she asked: giving her food, reaching things down from high shelves, unlocking doors for her. “I might be able to use that,” I thought, “with a little extra guidance from me.”

Jonas, 13, had a powerful telekinetic gift. He had been experimenting with his ability from the time he was very young, so he had established a decent level of control. I could definitely rely on him in our escape.

Magda, the oldest at 14, could direct a field of energy, akin to electricity, to do her bidding. She could turn switches on and off, change radio stations, and scramble broadcasts. It was hard for me to understand how it worked, but I knew I could trust Magda to put her ability to use where it would do the most good.

It was almost dark. We were running out of time.

“Okay, gang,” I said softly, calling them all together. “It’s now or never.”

I took a broken chair leg and began to draw in the dust: the building we were in, with the exits and windows clearly marked; the garage across the street, where I could see a number of large delivery trucks; a rack holding keys to the vehicles, just inside the garage door; a police car at the corner, one officer sitting inside; a suspicious-looking black SUV with tinted windows, down the block. And the highway, so tantalizingly close, offering the way to freedom, but blocked off with bright-orange cones and barrels, a police roadblock.

I laid out my plan, making sure that each person knew their role. Some of the kids offered tweaks here and there, and I incorporated them into the plan. As they talked it over among themselves, I could feel them coming together, becoming a team, trusting each other. I concentrated and gave that feeling a little mental boost. For the first time, I began to hope that this really could work. Together, we could make it happen. Together, we were strong.

We joined our hands together in the middle of our circle. “Go, Team!” came the whispered shout.

“Places!” I hissed. “We got this!”

Malcolm focused on the night creatures in the area available to him. He muttered to himself as they began appearing. “Rats! You are going to race out the door and scare the bad guys.” He smiled as they gathered in a group behind the door. “Bats! Cape duty! You’ll cover our scouts and advance guard!” The bats fluttered around his head, then moved off at his command to flutter over Ethan, who disappeared beneath their flapping mass.

Ethan’s job was to scout out the garage, locate a delivery truck to steal, and acquire the keys for it. Using the keys, he would unlock the doors and slip the key into the ignition, ready to start the get-away vehicle. He would report back to Hannah through their mental link, and Hannah would pass the details on to the group. Ethan nodded and made his way out the door, the bat-flock hiding him from the watchers outside.

“Okay, Samantha, you’re on!”

“Are you sure?” Samantha asked doubtfully.

“Absolutely!” I affirmed. “You’ve got this! He’ll be your slave in no time!”

Samantha hesitantly stepped through the door. No bats to shield her; she wanted to be seen. Specifically, she wanted to be seen by the policeman in his car on the corner. Samantha took a deep breath, then began to cry. Loudly. Heartbreakingly. The man would have to be made of ice to not come running to help the poor child. She got his attention, and his devotion, immediately, and he rushed down the street to her aid.

The men in the black SUV began to show signs of movement. Wondering what the policeman was doing, they started to exit the car.

“Rats! Go!” ordered Malcolm. Rats poured through the doorway, joined by others emerging from the storm drains, and surrounded the SUV, hissing and snapping at the men’s feet. The men hastily retreated to the safety of the car, pulling out their radios as they went.

“You’re on, Magda,” I hissed. Magda nodded, closed her eyes, and stretched her hands in the direction of the SUV, twenty feet away. Suddenly, the occupants couldn’t unlock the doors. Trapped inside, they shouted into their radios, but all that could be heard was static. A traffic light down the road began blinking Red, Green, Red, Green. The lights in the building behind the SUV flashed on and off.

“Great!” I encouraged. “Keep it up!”

Meanwhile, the police officer had met Samantha in the middle of the road. He knelt by her side, his head tilted attentively to catch whatever she was saying. He hugged her, and dried her eyes. Then, the conversation over, Samantha’s orders delivered, he returned to his car. He invited Samantha to come with him, but she merely shook her head, and he shrugged and left her there in the middle of the road. She turned, smiling, and returned to the hide-out.

“Great job!” I praised. “He’s going to be our escort?”

“Yup,” Samantha confirmed. Then she looked concerned. “He won’t get in trouble, will he?” she asked anxiously. “He’s a nice man!”

“No, no,” I reassured her. “He’ll be fine!”

A cloud of bats suddenly dissipated beside me, revealing a smiling Ethan. “Easy peasy!” he said. “The white one is all ready for us. I picked that one because it has a full tank of gas.”

“Good thinking!” I smiled.

“Okay, gang, let’s go!” I waved my team forward, and we raced across the street to the garage and the waiting delivery truck. Clouds of bats, directed by Malcolm, fluttered all around us, hiding us in a swarm of living darkness. Ethan had unlocked the doors, so we rushed inside, while I took the wheel and started our getaway truck up with a roar.

“Jonas! Get that gate open for us!” Using his telekinetic powers, he easily raised the gate, and the truck zoomed through.

“Let me get those cones out of the way,” Jonas offered, lifting them and sending them flying into the windshield of the SUV.

“Samantha! Where’s our police escort?”

“He’s coming,” she assured me, as her new friend, the policemen, hit lights and sirens and led us onto the highway.

As we drove up the ramp to the highway, Magda turned and focused her energy on the black SUV. All the lights flashed on and off, the engine roared once, then died, and the door locks fused, imprisoning the men inside.

I drove as fast as I dared, in an effort to get us all to New Day as quickly as possible. It was several hours away, even at these speeds. Every now and then another pursuer would show up, chasing us. But the policeman remained faithful to Samantha’s instructions, providing an excellent escort. Jonas threw a few hazards into the path of anyone who got too close, and Magda stood ready to take out radios, traffic lights, and the engines of cars that caught up to us.

Finally we arrived safely at New Day.

I smiled congratulations at our new students, and sent a wave of love and appreciation into their hearts and minds.

“We did it, team! Well done.”