Gifted Awakening: Gifted, #1

By John R. Sankovich

She's gifted, hated, and hunted by a pyrokinetic. Rebecca has a few more problems than the average teen.

 

Rebecca has powers. Telekinesis to be exact. 

 

You'd think it would be a dream come true, but all it has brought her is fear and worry. It's not really her fault–a lot of people with powers haven't exactly used them for good. 

 

But she would… if people just gave her a chance. The problem is, even her father–the city's mayor–is against them, and she knows how he would react.

Any hesitancy goes out the window when Rebecca and her brother are caught in the crossfire during a late-night C-store robbery and she instinctively unleashes her abilities to stop a bullet mid-air. 

 

Exposed by the gas station's security video, she flees with her family to safety only to find that a superhuman stalker is on their trail, determined to purge the world of anyone else with powers like his.

 

With her back against the wall, Rebecca is going to have to make a choice. Keep hiding, or come into her own and be the hero her city needs?

 

If you like the coming of age themes in Heroes and the family acceptance and heroic struggles in Smallville, then you're going to love Gifted Awakening.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Sankovich
• Release date: Feb 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386728047

John R. Sankovich

Even as a young child I was always conjuring up stories and filling them with colorful characters, sharing them with anyone and everyone who would listen. Since then, I’ve progressed quite a bit to formulating longer and more complex stories and sharing them with much larger audiences. When I'm not writing, I'm an avid Carolina Panther fan, video game player, and a Walking Dead aficionado. I wouldn't be able to do this with the support of my family, wife, two daughters, and son. Along with our zoo at home with 3 dogs, 3 frogs, a turtle, leopard gecko, sugar glider, a cat, and numerous fish. You might be surprised that with all these possible distractions, I still manage to write on a daily basis.

Book preview

Gifted: Awakening

John R. Sankovich

Copyright © 2018 by John R. Sankovich

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Contents

1.CHAPTER ONE

2.CHAPTER TWO

3.CHAPTER THREE

4.CHAPTER FOUR

5.CHAPTER FIVE

6.CHAPTER SIX

7.CHAPTER SEVEN

8.CHAPTER EIGHT

9.CHAPTER NINE

10.CHAPTER TEN

11.CHAPTER ELEVEN

12.CHAPTER TWELVE

13.CHAPTER THIRTEEN

14.CHAPTER FOURTEEN

15.CHAPTER FIFTEEN

16.CHAPTER SIXTEEN

17.CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

18.CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

19.CHAPTER NINETEEN

20.CHAPTER TWENTY

21.CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

22.CHPATER TWENTY-TWO

23.CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

24.CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

25.CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

26.CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

27.CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

GIFTED: OMEN PREVIEW

CHAPTER ONE

Afterword

Newsletter

Acknowledgements

About Author

Also By

CHAPTER ONE

Rebecca Stevens stared at the crate twenty yards away; a soft fall breeze blew her hair across her eyes. The weight of the railroad spike hovering nearby rested on her mind. The sensation of a foreign object inside her head quickened her pulse, like always. At her command, the spike spun. Her skill had improved over the past months, during her very limited practice time, but one thing remained constant; if she didn’t manage her emotions, she lost any sort of accuracy. Perfect concentration was required, and she hardly ever achieved that.

With her energy focused, sweat ran down her back and neck. The trees nearby rattled. A twig snapped, and she glanced toward the sound. A dog stood in the clearing, its brown eyes studying her. At least he wouldn’t give away her secret.

A tingle intensified in her fingertips to the point of triggering an adrenaline rush, and she flung the spike toward the target. With a whoosh, the spike nailed the target a bit to the left. The wood box splintered, the crack of the wood echoed, and birds scattered from the nearby foliage and the dog barked once before he ran. The spike drove into the ground, out of sight, behind a puff of dirt, as the force propelled it deep. Someone shouted in the distance, and she bolted toward the cover of the trees. She hid in the shadows of the trees like a criminal. Her body shook from the telekinetic exertion and with someone hearing the sound, they would come investigate. She needed to get out of here.

Her hands quivered, and she knelt on the hard soil to calm her twitchy nerves. She hated the weakness in her stomach after every use of her power, but her instincts nagged at her to practice. The control would get easier. It had to.

She dug into her backpack slung over a tree branch and pulled out her cell phone. Only two text messages from her dad, both told her to get home for dinner. She replied she was at the library and hurried through the forest as the sun set behind her. Her dad, the mayor of Peakside, would never understand what she was doing. He had been under constant pressure to do something about the growing voice of the public against people with powers. Her father kept it to himself, but she knew he felt the burden. She hoped he would do the right thing; whatever that was. Maybe someday she would trust someone with her secret, but so far, she couldn’t. The world wouldn’t allow her to.

At the edge of the woods, she scanned the adjacent street. Night crept through the neighborhood as the sun fell behind the horizon. Shadows reached forward like prying fingers as gloom surrounded her. A familiar loneliness fell upon her. Porch lights dotted the neighborhood, and a dog howled. She hitched up her backpack and ran. Darkness scared her; she didn’t know why, but every time she was alone in the dark her nerves twisted into knots.

A pair of young men sat in a dark car near the forest. Smoke billowed up from the driver’s side when one of them opened his door. Did she see a flicker of fire on his arm? She looked away. That was impossible.

Hey, girlie, have you seen my dog? the man called out. His voice had a raspy sound to it, like he suffered from smokers’ cough. It’s a small puppy.

Rebecca glanced back at him, but didn’t offer an answer. In the pocket of her sweatshirt, she clenched her fists; a faint energy pulsed in her arms. The television news images of the gifted kid murdered flashed through her mind. These men could have heard the noise in the park. Could she end up like the other gifted children who were murdered out of fear? The idea drove her onward without a word.

You too good to answer me? the man yelled.

The car door slammed. A second later, the engine revved. They were after her. Fear shot through her veins, and she didn’t have time to give it a second thought. With them already in the car, she didn’t want to risk her life to stop them. She didn’t even know if she could stop them if she tried. She could move small objects like her laptop and the railroad spike, but the heaviest thing she had moved with her mind was the washing machine. But a car? She couldn’t fathom doing that while she dashed down the street.

Rebecca bolted toward the corner and hooked around it. She hoped to put some distance between them. Her sneakers slapped against the pavement, still three blocks away from her house. Tired from her telekinetic training session, her body revolted—cramps hit her legs and she stumbled. She couldn’t outrun them, so she frantically searched the neighborhood for a place to hide. The first fence she came to, she scrambled over and landed next to a tree. Her throat burned. Her chest heaved.

Rebecca peered through the thin slats in the fence, but no one drove past. Maybe she’d overreacted. She lowered her sweaty head. The cool night sent a chill down her back. Her telekinesis curled around her like a scarf and she closed her eyes, comforted.

Her breath caught at the squeak of a door. Behind her, a man stood on the porch in a white tank top. A cigarette dangled from his lip, the embers illuminated his face in orange shadows. She clenched the edge of the fence, ready to bolt again.

The porch light came alive. Rebecca, what are you doing in my yard? Is everything okay?

Relief swelled through her. Her science teacher, Mr. Randolph, greeted her with a smile. He was a nice guy who always joked with the class and one of the few people who had chosen neutrality in the whole gifted person versus civilian debate.

I thought some guys were after me, but I think I’ve lost them. Rebecca fought back a tremble.

Really? His plump face squished with concern. He scanned the street beyond his fence. Come inside. We’ll call your parents.

Thank you. She brushed away some twigs caught between the strands of her hair.

Mr. Randolph smashed his cigarette under his foot. Sorry, bad habit.

She followed him inside and stole a quick glance back into the street beyond his fence. No sign of her pursuers. The warmth of the house soaked into her bones and the fear vanished. She trusted the teacher as much as she could trust anyone. Luck was on her side tonight.

The phones on the counter. He locked the door behind him.

She dialed her house. Her father picked up right away. Dad, I’m sorry.

Rebecca, where the hell are you? I thought I told you to be home before dark, her father said.

She knew this was coming. I’m three blocks down the street. I thought someone was chasing me.

Chasing you? Are you okay? What happened? I’ll call Patrick.

No, I’m fine, and I’m not sure I could tell Patrick much, as it’s dark and I couldn’t see them that well. I’m at Mr. Randolph’s house. You know, my science teacher, you met him last semester.

Let me talk to Mr. Randolph.

He wants to talk to you, Rebecca said. She mouthed her apology and Mr. Randolph smiled.

She handed the phone to Mr. Randolph, who finished pouring himself a cup of coffee before taking the receiver. She slumped against the doorway and examined her ragged nails.

Yes, she’s fine. I found her in my yard. Mr. Randolph took a sip from his mug. A smile creased his lips. I understand. Would you like me to bring her home? He nodded. No, of course. She won’t leave here until he arrives. You have my word. Mr. Randolph hung up the phone. Someone will be here soon.

Sorry about that.

No problem. He’s concerned you were hurt. I was the same way with my daughter when she was your age. Make yourself comfortable while you’re here.

She never recalled him mentioning his daughter ever before. She strolled into the living room and examined the pictures hung along the walls. His daughter sat on a younger Mr. Randolph’s lap in a family portrait. The living room furniture seemed old, but still in good shape. The lack of a television surprised her.

He carried a satchel into the room and tossed it on the coffee table. It slapped against the wood and she jumped. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms helped calm her frayed nerves a little. Your father seems like a good man.

Yeah, he has his moments, she said.

He took another sip from his mug before he unsnapped the satchel. You can have a seat while you wait. I’m just grading some papers.

A car horn honked, and she headed for the door. That’s him. Thank you again. I’m sorry to bother you.

He flashed a genuine smile. You’re a smart girl. You did what you thought was right. It was no problem.He stood to let her out, but she’d already opened the door. I’ll see you Tuesday. Enjoy the three-day weekend.

She hurried to the car and stopped at the sight of her father’s head of security, Eric. He frowned at her. We need to talk.

I’m sorry. She slid into the passenger seat. I lost track of time.

I thought we made a deal that you would call me to pick you up from the library when you were ready, he said and backed out of the driveway. Eric had worked for her father for over a decade—he was family.

I thought I’d make it before dark. She slumped down in the seat as a lecture was incoming.

Let’s not do this again. You know, since the kid with those water powers was murdered, things have gotten crazy around here. Your father needs to know you’re safe.

She cringed and shook her head; she loved her father and felt bad because of her secret. With the way she heard him talk to the other politicians, things would get worse for gifted people. She feared the idea she’d overheard; they were trying to figure out a way to track people with powers. She imagined a barcode on her forehead, or something embedded in her skin. The thought made her squirm.

I promise I’ll never do it again. A promise she didn’t intend to keep, but if Eric told her father that, it would make him feel better, which put her mind at ease a little.

There was another attack tonight. The rumor is it’s the group of people who follow The Collector guy again, he said. Twelve people dead. Nine of them kids. This wasn’t a scare tactic. He wanted her to know what sort of situation her father dealt with tonight.

Eric always kept Rebecca updated on current happenings. The knowledge made her feel better, even though it was primarily violent news.

Rebecca lowered her head to hide her frustration. Things were worse for people like her, all because of some mystery guy who lead a bunch of gifted people on a crime spree. Her telekinesis tingled in her stomach at the change in her mood. She swallowed the anger and gazed out the window. She didn’t have anyone to talk to because everyone in her family was normal unless her father’s way of dealing with stress was a superpower. Despite how dire things had gotten, he always remained calm and collected, unless it came to her. That was a surefire way for him to lose it. She didn’t enjoy the special attention with her. Alex, her brother, got away with everything. Suppressing her guilt, she let out a shaky groan.

As Eric pulled into the driveway, Tony, her father’s other security guard, awaited them in front of the two story Victorian house. News vans lined the street outside and as they pulled up, the reporters mobbed the car. Their words blurred into one large rumble. Over the years, she grew accustomed to ignore their inquiries, but lately, their questions about people with powers were hard to avoid. Each one stung like a dagger of accusation because no one knew about her telekinesis.

Sorry about this. Eric didn’t have to apologize; she knew it came with the territory of the mayor’s daughter, after all. She’d been around it for the past five years.

Tony, a monster of a man, shoved his way through to the passenger door and opened it for her. Tony forcefully pulled Rebecca inside the house, where the stark slam of the door cut off the reporter’s questions.

Inside the foyer, her father sat in his overstuffed chair, a gigantic pile of papers stacked on his lap. Natilee, his personal assistant, came from the back room. Her well pressed black pants suit with her brown hair tied up in a tight bun that made the throbbing veins at her temple more visible. She didn’t handle stress as well as her father. Rebecca learned quickly how to tell what sort of mood Natilee was in by a glance at her temple. If it fluttered like a hummingbird, keep your conversation short; if it was steady, then she was approachable. She smiled at Rebecca and then turned back to her father.

I’m sorry, Dad. She swallowed and focused on staying calm. She needed to keep the blaze of emotions in check so she could keep her gift controlled.

These are signed. Her father handed the papers to Natilee, and she hurried toward the back of the house. He made his intentions clear when he set his glasses on the table next to him. Time with his family was more important than work, and Natilee’s respect for the rule allowed her to keep her job longer than any of the other assistants.

Becca, come here. Her father leaned forward in his chair. His brow creased as he rubbed his temples. It’s okay. I’m sorry I flipped out. Things are a bit out of control, as you can see. Her father waved his hand toward the window absentmindedly.

Her mother rushed into the living room. Honey, are you all right? Your dad said someone chased you. She pulled Rebecca into an embrace. Having her close was comforting. She gave her mother a quick squeeze back and pulled away. The scent of strawberries filled her head, and she smiled.

Eric, who had escorted Rebecca’s mother in from the kitchen, went to his post by the front door.

I’ve called Patrick. He’ll stop by after dinner. You don’t need to worry. He understands, her mother said. A buzzer went off from the kitchen and her mother hesitated. She frowned. Dinner’s in the oven. She zipped off without another word.

Rebecca set her backpack on the couch and sat next to it. She leaned forward on the plush couch positioned directly across from her father. Revealing her ability to him crossed her mind, but she sighed instead. There was no way he would understand. The oak table sat between them, and the reflection of the few red embers in the fireplace glowed with an occasional pop of life. She fidgeted with the strings of her sweatshirt as his brown-eyed glare bore into her until she finally met his stare. Her mother was always there for her, but her father was the one she respected.

Where were you? His voice remained calm and inviting, which was never a good sign. He always remained under control. The tone of his voice made it clear he meant business. The world could collapse around him and he would keep everyone else composed. She admired his ability to remain calm while she felt like insects crawled around inside her at the first sign of chaos.

At the library, studying. She kept her eyes up. Backing down from his gaze, it would give him a reason to think she lied, so she met his hard gaze.

No, you weren’t. I checked there when the attack at the after-school center happened. Want to try again? He searched her face.

Um… her voice cracked, and he noticed. His eyebrows rose briefly. She should have never tried to get one over on him. Too late to backtrack now, she needed to keep up her facade.

I will love you no matter where you were, so tell me, where were you? He moved from the chair and sat next to her. He rested his hand on top of her fidgeting hands and they came to a stop. His warmth spread through her like a storm front and she blinked back the anguish. She wanted to tell him everything, but her mouth refused to spit out the words.

I went for a walk through the forest. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but… Rebecca stopped. He held her hands tight as she twitched to break free.

It’s okay. You’re sixteen and going through a lot of teenage stuff. Please don’t lie to me. I can’t protect you if you do. He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. I love you.

The stubble on his chin scratched her nose. I love you too, Dad.

Now, get upstairs and wash up for dinner. He stood. Natilee?

Natilee appeared from another room a moment later, a cell phone in one hand and another pile of paperwork under her other arm. Rebecca stood to leave.

The press wants a statement. Natilee said, as Rebecca brushed by. The vein at her temple remained steady, finally. Her hazel eyes were damp, like she had been crying. Had she heard their conversation? Why would she care?

Her father glanced out the window. I’ll tell them what I know, which isn’t much.

Dad?

Yes, dear? He faced Rebecca and, for the first time, he seemed to be beaten down by the way things had gone over the past months.

Where’s Alex?

Upstairs, probably on the phone with Yasmine. He turned back to the window. Natilee handed him the phone.

It’s the national media. Natilee’s eyes glimmered for a moment, which stopped Rebecca short, but then she told herself what she had seen was nothing more than the reflection of the fire.

Rebecca thought about going into the kitchen, but went upstairs instead. When her mother cooked, there wasn’t anything that could disturb her. Completely unlike her father, she buckled under the first sign of pressure and relied on cooking to get over it. She’d been cooking a lot lately.

Throwing her backpack on her oak four-poster bed, she went into her bathroom and washed her hands. She looked at them as water dripped off the tips of her fingers into the sink. Energy seeped into her palms and she clenched her fists. She wished she could tell someone about her telekinesis. Tears fell from her eyes and she sat on the toilet. She mentally floated a towel off the rack and she snatched it to wipe her eyes.

The soft cotton comforted her, but she continued to wonder what it would be like to never have her ability. Her power made her different, and that frightened her enough to keep everything a hidden. While most of her friends lived carefree lives, she had to keep a secret from those she cared about most. If she revealed her ability, the public might make an example out of her, The daughter of the mayor is gifted; no wonder he is so partial to freaks. Or worse; if anyone found out, The Followers of The Collector might hurt her family. She paled at the thought. What chaos would happen if her father disappeared? They had attempted nothing so far, but the moment they killed the kid, the entire world as she knew it had gone to ruin. She hung the towel up and entered her room again.

The idea of telling her family about her gift caused her to grimace with discomfort. She didn’t know how they would react, which was more worrisome than her telekinesis any day. Her parents loved her now, but if they found out she could move things with her mind, how would they feel? If she told them, it wouldn’t remain a secret much longer as the press would find out through some leak as things of this nature did. After that, Rebecca’s limited privacy would vanish and she would become a target instead of some random encounter like tonight.

Stripping out of her dirty sweatshirt, she looked at her faded jeans and T-shirt.

Hey, sis, Alex’s voice jolted Rebecca.

She spun toward him. He wore a grin like he always did when he had some plan. What’s up?

Are you okay? I heard what happened.

How did you find out already? This was exactly why she could never reveal her gift. Things spread like wildfire through this house.

Come on really? I found out like two seconds after Eric left, Alex sat on the edge of her bed.

She looked at herself in the mirror across the room and frowned. Secrets definitely weren’t this family’s specialty. I’m fine. Don’t worry so much, I can take care of myself.

Great, so after dinner, do you want to go to the movies with Yasmine and I?

Mom and Dad wouldn’t allow that without either Tony or Eric, especially after what happened tonight. She pulled a well-worn sweatshirt from her closet and slipped it over her head, encompassing her in a shield of comfort she desperately needed.

I’ve already got permission. A grin appeared on his face. He had a way with their parents and got more freedom than she had ever experienced. She wondered if it was because he was a guy or because he was older—probably both.

Why are you asking me to go? Rebecca glared at him. She didn’t trust him when he put this much thought into something that involved her. She always ended up with the short end of the stick.

Because… His grin widened.

Why? Her brother always danced the fine line between the rules.

Kellen will be with us.

She laughed. Kellen was the star football quarterback, and Alex’s best friend. So? Doesn’t Yasmine have, like, girls lined up-to-date Kellen?

Yeah, but he isn’t after a date, just a friend. He just broke up with Gretchen. Like today.

So, the rumor at school today was true. At least it had taken the focus off of the whole gifted versus innocent argument, which had made school more dangerous for those in the outcast section. So, why me instead of some other one of your female friends?

Do I have to have a reason? I thought you might like to get out for the night. If you don’t, it’s cool. He stood.

Out with her brother, Kellen, and Yasmine sounded better than at home with the parents while reporters surrounded the house. Fine. I’ll go.

CHAPTER TWO

The moment Patrick, the police chief, stepped into the room, all thoughts of going out vanished. He had flushed cheeks, as if he had run a mile, and large beads of sweat protruded from his forehead. His narrow, haunted eyes pinned Rebecca in her seat. He removed his hat, revealing a mop of graying hair, and sat down at the dining room table. His large keychain rattled against the wooden kitchen chair. The meal they had finished fifteen minutes ago crawled its way up Rebecca’s throat. His lips curled into a weak smile. Not a normal friendly visit today.

Would you like some coffee, Patrick? Rebecca’s mom asked. The smile on her mom’s face reminded Rebecca of how young her mom used to be. In the kitchen's corner sat a picture from college where Patrick and her parents stood in front of their university. Her father loved to tell people how their friendship started when they all protested something about animal testing. She squirmed under Patrick’s gaze.

Yes, please, Sue. He ran his hand over his head and let out a sigh. The way he examined Rebecca like she was the last thing he wanted to deal with tonight gave her goosebumps. Hello, Rebecca.

Hi. Her throat dried up on her and she licked her lips. She folded her hands in front of her and squeezed her fingers tight. That should keep her power from getting out of control. She gritted her teeth and stared at Patrick. Lying to her parents was one thing, but lying to him was actually illegal.

How’s it going out there? Her dad sat across from Rebecca at the table. He clutched his own coffee mug to keep his hands steady.

All available officers are at the location of the bombing; lots to clean up. Patrick nodded when Mom placed a mug in front of him. Rebecca, as you can tell, time’s short. So, I’m sorry to have to rush this, but what exactly happened?

It’s okay. The thought of reliving the incident again sent a shiver through her and she looked to her parents for support. They leaned forward in their chairs with their lips pressed together. This whole situation worried them, which made her palms slick with sweat. Taking a deep breath, she began. I was coming out of the forest down the street and some guy called out, asking if I saw his missing puppy.

Patrick scribbled the information down on his notepad. Did you get a good look at the man?

No, but he got out of a sporty car. I think an older model. It reminded me of an old muscle car. I think it was black, but the streetlight was out so it could have been any dark color. She closed her eyes to search her memory for any other details. Nothing. Her fingers involuntarily dug into her palm, and she opened her eyes. The sound of the man’s voice rang in her head. He sounded so angry when she didn’t answer him. Like he didn’t get rejected often, and it intensified his irritation. The small hairs on her arms bristled at the memory, and energy rose from her gut. She swallowed and reached for her glass of water from her dinner earlier. The cold of the glass helped cool her down, and she rotated the cup. Her fingers adjusted to the chill as she tried to regain control of her power as it seeped through her limbs.

Anything else? Patrick watched her, his gaze unnerving. Criminals must have buckled under his questions all the time. She stared at a drip of condensation on the glass as it ran down the glass.

He had a friend and I remember a cloud of smoke stream out of the car when he opened the door. The way it floated off the man remained a prominent image. The spooky appearance had become burned into her memory.

Did anyone else notice them? Patrick leaned in closer.

Mr. Randolph, her science teacher, her father said before Rebecca could respond. He would remember that part, wouldn’t he?

Did he? Patrick asked.

I don’t know. I jumped over his fence and hid by his tree, but I’m not sure he saw the car or the guys. She took a sip of water, the liquid washed through her, and the growing energy paused. I’m not even sure they chased me. Tears stung her eyes as realization set in. Maybe she wasted Patrick’s time. She shut her eyes to keep the emotion from overtaking her. Did they find out about her powers? If so, how? She had been minding her own business. A reassuring hand touched Rebecca, and she looked at her mother, who nodded her approval.

Where was this exactly? He licked the tip