CHAPTER TWO #2
All seven years of what he remembers, at least.
And alone, they can be Riley and Kade.
Not boss and bodyguard.
Not Head and First Captain.
Best friends.
Riley lets go as he steps away, rubbing his temples. The migraines have been getting worse lately. Kade would never say it because Riley is the person he respects most in the world, but there’s a reason he needs a bodyguard. ‘Sorry.’
‘I’m fine,’ Kade tells him. ‘Really.’
‘You’re pale as fuck.’
‘After what I just saw—’
‘You should sit down.’
‘I don’t need to.’
‘Indulge me.’
Kade sits on his bed and catches sight of himself in the nearby mirror.
His hair is cut shorter than Riley’s, dark auburn kept close around the sides, longer on top, light catching the deep copper tones. Amber eyes stare with sullen insecurity, having just witnessed something horribly new.
‘You don’t have to coddle me, I’m not a baby.’
‘Then don’t act like one.’
‘What the fuck is happening?’
‘Before we get to that—’
‘This is slightly more important, no?’
‘—let’s talk about you abandoning your post—’
‘Riley, that guy rose from the fucking dead right before our eyes!’
‘—and breaking protocol.’
Kade snarls, gets up to pace, doesn’t want to sit. ‘Yes, I broke protocol, but I wasn’t about to sit comfy while our people got mowed down!’
‘Don’t get snarky with me.’
‘We’ve never faced anything like this.’
‘Even less reason to go. You know the rules, Kade. Strange activity requires fallback observation. You knew this was off.’
‘Which is why I went!’
‘That’s unacceptable.’
Kade looks away, brittle with misplaced anger. ‘This guy knew every trick before we pulled it. He knew about the Touchtrail.’
Riley watches him evenly. ‘Do you recognise him?’
‘No. Do you?’ He gets a tepid shrug in answer. Another thing about Riley Harker is that he’s a man of few words. ‘Is Finn running him through the database?’
‘Of course he is.’
‘You’re not rattled by what you saw?’
‘If I was rattled by anything, which I’m not, it’d be my First Captain abandoning his post to go catch a fight, leaving the Watch exposed.’
‘I suited the boys up.’
‘That’s worse. It means you knew you were going down.’
The quiet between them stretches.
Kade rubs his inner wrist, thumb pressing into the ink of his tattoo.
The Iron Star sigil has always been there.
Ever since he can remember, he’s had this inked into his skin.
The tattoo itself is cut through with thin scars that healed and faded but took the ink with them. He wouldn’t think of having it redone. It’s one of precious few things he woke up with, something that was already his in a world that felt otherwise alien and unfamiliar.
Kade has no last name, no family.
No one but Iron Star.
‘I could feel something was wrong.’
‘And I trust your instincts more than anyone’s, but you know better than to pull shit like this not least because it encourages others to do the same. They all look up to you. We have these rules for a reason.’
‘He waited for the attack, then came in through the incinerator extraction, Riley. That alone is impressive.’
‘Not impossible though.’
‘No, not impossible. The Touchtrail… yeah, that’s unsettling, but logically, I can reason that someone on the inside told him.’
Riley cocks his head. ‘What can’t you reason?’
‘The bullets crawling out of his face.’
The way he looked at me.
It’s not like Kade expects Riley to join him in his mini-crisis. Two years older than Kade, Riley Harker is the dictionary definition of unflappable. It’s more that Riley doesn’t seem shocked. Surprised. Intrigued, even.
He’s watching Kade closely, though.
‘Maybe we should bring in a Brightling to examine him.’
Kade sneers. ‘A fucking Paranatural?’
‘They prefer Brightling.’
‘I could care less what they prefer.’
‘Couldn’t care less, and what does it cost to call them—?’
‘We’re not bringing in a Paranatural. I don’t think crystals and chakras are the solution here.’
Paranatural.
The media seized the word and never let go.
The official classification had existed for years, buried in military reports, intelligence briefings and heavily redacted research papers. Like most truths too large and ugly to absorb all at once, the existence of different human classes was first met with exhausted public denial.
Another distraction, government sleight of hand.
Look over here, look away, what’s this?
But over the last decade, the reports kept coming.
Un-redacted documents, medical studies, leaks, hearings, witness footage and too many officials discussing Paranaturals openly for the subject to remain inside conspiracy culture.
Eventually, acceptance settled over the public, but slowly, unevenly, and heavily warped by fear, politics and prejudice.
Kade, like several others in Iron Star, dislikes the whole concept.
It seems to be, at best, wishy-washy bullshit about ley lines and energy, crystals and “the universe”.
People finding new gods to worship, answers in the stars, reconnecting with the earth.
At worst, it stirs something inside of him that fears the unknown, fears being replaced, being made obsolete in his prime.
Riley has always been strictly against any kind of metaphobia.
‘That’s beneath you and you know it.’
‘Sorry.’ Kade closes his eyes. ‘Brightling. I do not recommend bringing in a Brightling for something of this magnitude, but of course, I defer to you.’
‘I’m gonna ignore that because I know you’re rattled.’
‘It’s the last thing we need.’
‘What do we need, then?’
‘I need to talk to him.’
‘Why?’
‘Why? Because I shot him in the face and he’s breathing! That’s not…’ Kade gestures wildly, ‘throwing magnetism at tin foil or whatever the fuck. This is something else. Something huge.’
‘You should be benched for breaking protocol.’
Kade looks away. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’
Riley heads for the door. ‘You can question him, but walk the fucking line, Kade. I wouldn’t bend the rules for anyone but you, so don’t push it.’
‘I won’t,’ he says in a relieved rush. ‘Thanks, Riley.’
‘Don’t thank me yet.’
?
Once they’re back in the Watch, Seth comes to report his sweep.
‘No trail, nothing shed or hidden. Clean entry, but no plans to get out.’