Mitch is silent for awhile, as if she's trying to get all her thoughts in order.
"Do you remember when you had to have testing? Like, genetically?" she asks.
"Yep," I say, "I was about three, so I don't remember much." Mitch nods.
"Me too, except I was four, closer to five than three," Mitch says, "What about you, Charlie?"
"No," Charlie says after thinking for awhile.
"I was expecting that," Mitch says, "Ay and Al don't remember it either, you guys were probably babies then. Si too. I remember a few things about it. There were lots of old doctors in white coats, and lots of toddlers and babies crying. They gave us these shots and they were planning on watching us and seeing what happened. But the government stopped funding it or something, because they stopped and just released all of us kids into the foster system. I didn't really think anything about it until a few years later.
When I was... oh, about ten, I learned I could bend metal. I thought it was pretty cool, and, like any ten-year-old, I began to gloat about it. I would bend monkey bars and the kids began to get scared of me. The teachers got scared too. The principal kicked me out for disturbing the peace. My foster parents didn't like that. I was sent to live with a different family. I lived in that place... for five minutes. He tried to hit me, so I beat him up. Then called the police. I was moved into a home for delinquents. I was only there for a week, then I ran away. A while later, I realized that I was being followed by more than the police. After some experiences, I realized that I didn't only have super strength, but also speed, quick-thinking, and endurance. So does Silas, and Brett, and the twins, and you two too." She turned and looked at us with a smile.
"Woah..." Charlie says.
"Yeah..." I say.
"Can we test them out?" Charlie asks.
"Try what?" I say.
"Our super powers," he says.
"They aren't super powers," I say, "they're..." I wasn't sure what to call them.
"Super powers," Aya says.
"They kinda are," Mitch says, "Sure, once we're a little safer, we'll find some wide open spaces for you to run around in."
"Why haven't we noticed this before?" I ask.
"How often do you look around at something other than the pavement in front of you, or the people chasing you? You have to look around to really notice how fast you're going. And even then, it's kind of hard to tell. I suppose if you'd had a more... traditional upbringing, you would've noticed sooner, because you would've been able to compare yourself to the little chickens at your school," Mitch says.
"Can I ride in the back?" Charlie asks.
"Sure, when we stop," Mitch says. We pull into a gas station. Silas and Charlie switch places.
"Hold on tight, you hear," Silas says. Charlie nods.
"Status report," Silas says once we're all settled back in and on our way.
"We lost everything in the van. We still have everyone, which is the important part," Mitch says, "I'm pretty sure everyone's fine except, how's your shoulder, Bilbo?"
"Fine," I say, "Now that they got it popped back in.
"And your leg, Si?" Mitch asks. He shrugs.
"No big deal. I can walk," he says.
"Are you sure, Si," Mitch says, "It looked like that knife went pretty far in."
"It didn't get as far as it looked," Silas says, "I flinched. I dressed it, remember, while Bilbo was unconcious."
"Let me see it," Mitch says. Silas pulls up his pant leg, and I see a crudely made bandage out of a rolled-up t-shirt and duct tape.
"Nice job," Mitch says, "but I'd like to look at it next time we have a chance, 'kay?"
"Sure," Silas says, "I don't think I cut any tendons." Mitch glanced at his leg.
"I'm not so sure about that," she says, "We'll check it later. We'll regroup in the morning. In the mean time, you all can take a nap." I sit in between the two twins, with my head leaning against the headrest. I slip into an uncomfortable sleep, waking up at by every little bump in the road and swerve in our path. The twins sleep deeply on both sides of me.
Honestly, our prospects didn't look that bright yet. We had Them close on our tails, with a bit of a head start, no money, no food, just an old trunk that would probably run out of gas sometime tomorrow for transport and shelter. We're going to regroup tomorrow, but then what? It won't do that much good.
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