Evan shook with each step.

The stranger continued. “Exit the tram and walk towards that alleyway.”

There was a clear gap between a couple of houses, where light from neon signs faded into pure darkness.

Evan nodded, took a deep breath, and stepped outside. The Sun had melted away, and he wondered if he’d live to see its golden likeness again.

“You don’t want to mess with me,” he said. “My father is the Governor of the East. His enemies disappear.” He cringed at having used his father as a threat like some spoiled prep student.

A couple of enforcers stood amongst the crowd of exiting passengers. Evan could call out to them, but the stranger might kill him before the soldiers could do anything. His voice retreated down to his stomach.

“Your dad’s already done his worst,” the stranger responded. “Stop looking at the Feds.”

“You know what? Afflicted like you are the reason why the Federation keeps hunting for mutants.”

The stranger scoffed, “geeze, you really don’t listen.”

“Nope.” Evan sprinted toward the enforcers, waving his arms high. But before he opened his mouth, he was frozen in place again and yanked into the darkness of the alleyway.

The man shoved Evan against a wall. His glasses slid to the edge of his nose, allowing a sliver of his glowing eyes to show.

“Did anyone see?” He said, but not to Evan. A moment passed, then he loosened his grip. “Wait here, kid.” His hand reached into Evan’s pocket and pulled out his thin phone.

Evan strained to control his body, but paralysis held him like an invisible straight jacket. Please don’t find the transponder.

The stranger placed the phone inside the backpack and pressed his other hand against Evan’s chest.

A constrictive force gripped Evan’s foot. A patch of grass underneath him contorted and sprouted from the dirt, as if alive. The blades pulsed and expanded into larger growths, which laced themselves in thick layers around his legs.

“What are you doing?” Evan’s heart beat violently as the plants curled over him. He’s going to kill me. He struggled against the man’s grasp, but the plants only tightened more with each tug.

“Persistent, huh?” The man sighed. “Relax, I’m not trying to hurt you.”

“Let me go, man!” Anger and fear mixed in Evan’s voice. The overgrowth now covered Evan up to his nose. He felt his body again, but that didn’t matter much now that he was cocooned in this plant vice.

“I’ll be back.” The stranger removed his sunglasses. His irises had returned to normal. He jogged toward to the end of the short alley; the backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Evan tried to shout, but the words were stifled by a mouthful of grass.

The alley opened to a hill, where dozens of small houses gathered. The man made his way to one that was barely within Evan’s sight. The building had slanted walls and frosted glass windows. Its white paint refracted with streetlight, partially obscuring its keypad locked door.

The stranger pulled a vial out of his jacket, a small ivory flower inside. He shifted the vial to the other side of his coat and slinked up to the keypad. With a few button strokes, the door slid open, then closed behind him as he disappeared within the house.

This was Evan’s chance to escape. His powers might have been a blessing for the first time in his life. But before he tried to use them, a radio buzzed from across the road.

Two enforcers proceeded up the path. Their gloved hands each tightened around submachine guns. They chattered indistinctly over their helmet radios as they marched up to the house. Evan hoped they’d come because of the transponder.

One knocked on the door; he had an officer’s white stripe streaked across his shoulder pad. “This is the FPD, open up,” he said.

The idea of manifesting his powers instantly dissipated from Evan’s mind now that the enforcers were there. Soon they’d find him and bring him home.

But what about Ken, then?

No response came from the house. The officer pounded the door again. “Come out, or you will be detained.”

A window creaked open above them. The stranger tossed his vial at their feet. “I don’t have time for this. Leave before someone gets hurt,” he said darkly.

The soldiers jerked their guns up toward him. “Put your hands in the air,” one of them called.

The man sighed. “Fine, whatever you say.” He thrust out his palms. His eyes radiated white again.

Within the vial, the flower rippled and bulged, busting from its meek form, overcoming the insides of the glass housing. Thick vines cracked through and whipped at the Feds, wrapping around their arms, and binding them.

“He’s Afflicted!” they barked.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Evan’s eyes widened as the vines whipped around the soldier’s heads.

The stranger dangled a leg out of the window and sat on the edge. “Playing nice now?”

The officer shouted muffled calls over his helmet radio.

“I guess not.”

The stranger tightened his fists, constricting the vines around their necks and yanking them to the ground. Their feet sunk deeper into the mud. Stressed breathing vented from the two as their armor popped and cracked. The radio chatter turned into screams – guttural, curdling screams – until only radio static remained. Their mangled bodies twitched under the twisting plants which sprouted new ivory flowers.

The stranger dropped from the ledge and skipped over his vines to the dead bodies; his glowing eyes lasting longer this time. He snipped a single flower into another vial that he’d procured from his coat, then concealed it again. After patting the bodies, he stepped away with one of their weapons, a radio earbud, and an extra magazine. He stroked the gun like a blind man reading brail. His fingers meticulously explored the firearm’s lines, flicking off the safety, racking the charging handle, and stopping when they found the trigger.

Evan gaped at the sight of this murderer as he casually pilfered the dead soldiers. Images of meeting the same fate flipped through his mind. If this guy could kill Feds without hesitation or remorse, then what more would he do to the Governor’s kid?

“Let me go,” Evan pleaded. “Help! This guy’s Afflicted!” Each word a stifled mess. Sweat washed down his face, his chest thumping. Dizziness took him, his control slipped, and power filled his entirety. The air grew hot, and gravel floated around him, dissipating, and reappearing like glitter.

The stranger turned his now brown eyes to Evan. “You’re Afflicted?”

The beat of propellers broke the air as a helicopter came barreling above the town. Armor plating glistened from neon shopping signs below as two soldiers scanned the town with mounted turrets.

The stranger dipped into the opposite alleyway. He looked back and forth between Evan and the oncoming reinforcements. Finally, he disappeared.

Evan exhaled his anxiety, no longer needing to escape.

All right, time to stop manifesting these powers. Stop it and be normal. Be normal. But his head buzzed, and the dirt still floated around him. Abduction, murder, Afflicted – all these thoughts fused within Evan’s mind. His powers were now beyond stifling, and that drove him into a deeper panic. Idiot, why’d you try to use your powers?

Feet clapped against the pavement, followed by the milling of radio chatter.

The Feds would discover he was a freak. They’d drag him to his father, who’d have no choice but to give him up. It was either commit to the escape or lose everything.

Please. He focused on his bindings. Nothing happened.

The chatter came closer, hounded with the sound of guns jostling. Each call from the soldiers competed with Evan’s thoughts. He pushed his mind, picturing the individual strands of grass around him.

A group of silhouettes emerged from the dark end of the road, outlined by helmet lights; small at first, but growing as they marched toward him.

Please, please, not today. He pictured the plants snapping, imagined them dissipating out of existence.

The flashlights danced across houses nearby.

“Come on.” Heat poured through Evan’s body. “Come, on.” The twine did not budge. “Please, come on, please, please, please,” he chanted, each word a more desperate prayer than the last.

The echoing radio speech became clearer. “Higgins and Sergeant Ross are down. Repeat, confirmation of an active Afflicted in the area.”

“Let. Me. Go,” Evan sputtered. Every aspect of him strained to actualize his powers. Seizure tugged at him. His body convulsed. But he pressed his mind into submission.

A rumble shook the ground.

Evan quivered.

The weave trembled.

Blood dripped from his nose. He fought to keep his eyes from rolling back into his skull.

The snare writhed, shriveled, and then evaporated into dust. Evan didn’t hesitate to dive around the corner of the alley – helicopter patrolling above the streets. Its searchlight traced each path, but he stuck close to the walls.

Squads of enforcers patrolled every alley. He rounded a corner, Feds. He turned again, even more. He was surrounded.

There were dozens of doors, but none of them had handles, just code locks. He focused his hands on one of the panels. Just the lock, they won’t notice. Panic jolted him. The entire door disintegrated. He swore. A blur of stars dashed across his eyes. Sweat seeped from his every pore. His arms burned with sharp pain and his mouth numbed.

More lights trailed into the alley. He stumbled into the pitch-black house. His foot cracked against something, sending him to the floor. His body contorted and convulsed uncontrollably. Drool pooled underneath his head. His consciousness zipped away, and his thoughts spilled out, no longer sure of where or who he was.

*****

Six years ago…

Evan’s heart threatened to burst. Not even the music playing in his ears could outpace the beating in his chest. His stomach was in his throat, and his nostrils had retreated at the smell of ammonia. He wished that Ken had come with him, but father made him stay at the house with his security.

“Are you scared?” His father said, sitting next to him in a steel chair.

The stain riddled purple carpet was a far more comforting sight, so Evan figured he’d stare at it longer.

“Evangelos,” the Governor repeated.

Evan’s eyes parted with the floor and met his father’s. But they weren’t the squared judgmental eyes Evan had expected. These irises were the rare oval kind with raised eyebrows and tears barely in their wombs.

“Are you scared?”

Evan nodded. There was silence, and Evan wondered if he was supposed to say more. There must be something more he was supposed to do, there always was. “I’m sorry.”

His father shook his head. “It’s alright. So am I.”

Scared? You?

“Everything is going to be all right.” His faint smile soothed Evan.

For a moment, Evan believed his father, trusted that everything would be ok. He believed that the nightmare could be over, and they could go back to life like nothing had ever happened. Like he was normal.

A doctor approached them. Her face was half-covered by a medical scope, a telescopic tube held in place by a little arm that was attached to the back of her head. “Governor Hendricks, she’s conscious.”

Father nodded and thanked her. “Go ahead, Evangelos. I’m with you.”

Evan sucked in a deep breath, pulled down his headphones, and dragged his feet through the doorway.

Mom lay shivering, despite being wrapped in a dozen blankets. Machines and coils ran the course of the room and along her bed, beeping or lighting up in their own ways. Her eyes were closed. No… her eye… the other half of her face was wrapped in blood-stained linen.

Will she still love me? Evan pushed himself to her bedside and took up a soft hand.

Her eyelid flickered open, and she stared back him.

“Hey, mom.” He managed a smile.

She let out a croak.

“Mom?” Evan knew she was feeling pain. “I’m sorry…”

She croaked again. “Help…”

“What is it?” Evan reached over her for a glass of water by her bed. She flinched back and pulled deeper into the bed. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Her eyes widened at Evan, and she screeched. “Help me...”

“Hey, it’s ok. I'm here, Mom.” Evan slipped his fingers back down to her hand, but she gripped the blankets tight.

“H-Help!” She said louder. “Help!” As if Evan was some intruder, some beast.

“Hey, Mom, it’s me. It’s me…” He pleaded.

“Help! A… Afflicted! Get away from me – monster!”