Hunted: TalentBorn, #5

By C. S. Churton

Half of the resistance is captured…

…The other half are in hiding.

Who's left to stand and fight?

Anna barely escaped with her life. Others weren't so lucky. She can't outrun her past, not even with the power of teleportation. The AbGen agency will stop at nothing to see her dead, and the last group of rebels silenced – permanently.

But can all the rebels be trusted?

Driven by Pearce's fanaticism, AbGen have spies everywhere. Anna and Scott have only one chance to stop the agency's corrupt agenda, and rescue those taken captive. Will their desperate bid to earn their friends' freedom cost them their own?

You'll love this suspenseful Urban Fantasy because freedom always comes at a price.

Get it now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: C. S. Churton
• Release date: Sep 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223031970

Book preview

Chapter One

My hands press against the damp concrete as I crouch behind the wall, straining my ears to pick up any sound other than my own ragged breathing. The constant light drizzle frustrates my efforts, but after a long moment I’m convinced there’s no-one there.

We’ve lost her.

I make to push myself up and a hand lands on my arm. I start and swallow a gasp as I look up at its owner: Scott. He shakes his head at me and I frown. He gestures round the corner of the crumbling warehouse we’re squatting behind, and presses a finger to his lips. A drop of rain hits the back of my neck, sending a shiver through me as I hold his eye. He’s the tracker. If he says she’s on the other side of this building, who am I to argue?

We wouldn’t be having to sneak up on her at all if she wasn’t so jumpy. And what with her having super-speed, she’s not going to stick around long enough for us to convince her we’re on her side. She’s met us before, but no-one knows who they can trust right now. Pearce’s little raid left three quarters of the Ishmaelians in cages, and the rest scattered across the country. Me and Scott have been tracking her for days. Well, Scott’s been tracking her, I’ve just been tagging along for the ride. But he’s the one with the tracking talent that draws him right to others like us, so he does kinda have an advantage.

I give him a shrug, because let’s face it, we’re going to have to show ourselves sooner or later. Cowering behind a crumbled old building isn’t going to get us any closer to bringing her in. He gives me a nod, because he knows I’m right, as usual.

Steph.

His voice isn’t loud, but it still makes me jump.

Steph, please don’t run.

I don’t hear any running, so that’s a good start. I don’t hear her answering us either though, which isn’t so good.

It’s Scott and Anna. We’re alone. I’m going to step out from behind this wall. Please, just listen to us.

He rises to his feet and I follow his lead as he steps out, leaving us exposed in the alleyway’s mouth. My training urges me to move from the vulnerable position, but I ignore it, and focus on what matters. Half-way down the alley stands the young woman, inky-dark hair plastered to her skull, wild eyes darting around as her limbs quiver in super speed until their edges blur.

Thanks for not running, Scott says, raising his hands to his sides. You remember us, right?

She keeps staring at us in silence, then tosses a look over her shoulder, and twists back to us again. To me? She looks like she’s still thinking about running, and the quivering intensifies as she locks eyes with me. I try to give her a reassuring smile, but my lips are so numb right now that I have no idea what they’re doing. Nothing reassuring, if her face is anything to go by. Eventually though, she nods. Scott lowers his hands.

I know you’re scared, Steph, he says, but we’re not here to hurt you. I promise.

I know why she’s so scared of me. She’s fast, but I’m faster. At least, I can get to her faster than she can get away from me. That’s my talent. I can shift, one spot to another, in the blink of an eye. But, when I got to her, I’d be no match for her super speed – I wouldn’t be able to lay a hand on her to shift her away from here. Not that any of that matters, because I’ve got no intention of trying to force her to go anywhere with us. I’ve been on the receiving end of that before, and let’s just say I place a higher premium on free will these days.

Why are you following me?

We want to help you, I say. Pearce is still out there. You’re vulnerable on your own.

You know where the rest of them are? The other Ishmaelians?

I nod.

We can take you to them. But it’s your choice. We won’t force you.

I’ve been taking lessons from Scott on calming down edgy absas. It was only last year he was giving me more or less the same speech. A lot can change in eighteen months. Some of it even for the better. Most of it, not so much. And especially not for Steph.

Come on, you’ll freeze out here, Scott says. He’s right – she’s wearing just a t-shirt that’s already plastered to her skin, a pair of jeans that are soaked through, and trainers that look like they weren’t waterproof to start with. There are goose pimples on her arms, and violent shivers rack her entire body. The weather is getting worse by the minute.

Who else h– she starts, then breaks off with a shiver and wipes the rain from her eyes before trying again. Who else have you found?

Alistair, he says, and she tenses for a moment then shivers again. Leo, and Callum. Becky, too. Come on, Steph. Come with us.

She chews her lip, maybe wondering what it means that we haven’t given her the name of the Ishmaelian leader. Or maybe she already knows that Ephraim was captured during the raid. Maybe she’s wondering why Alistair, his second in command and head of security, wasn’t. It doesn’t make him sound like the most trustworthy person in the world, granted, but he’d been doing a pretty convincing impression of a dead man after Pearce’s men did a number on him. Otherwise he’d have fought to the death to protect Ephraim and the rest of the rebels.

After a long moment, she dips her head in a nod.

Okay.

I give her plenty of space as we head back to the car, making sure I’m not within touching distance in case she panics and takes off again. We’ve spent the last few weeks tracking down Ishmaelian strays and bringing them in. You might think we have bigger fish to fry than rounding up stragglers, but we’re not the only people out looking for them. We can’t risk AbGen – the Abnormal Genetics Research Department – capturing any more of the rebels. Every person Pearce and his corrupt government unit snatches is one less person to fight for our freedom – not to mention the freedom of the fifty men and woman he already has locked up.

Scott fires up the engine and cranks the heating. I slide into the passenger seat, leaving Steph the back seat to herself. She sits close to one door, shivering violently as she looks out of the window. I pop open the glove compartment and toss her a sandwich, and she devours it like she hasn’t eaten in days. She probably hasn’t. She’s obviously been running ever since AbGen descended on the rebel hideout, trying to keep out of their grasp. I wish I could tell her she’ll be safe where we’re going, but I can’t, not in good conscience. Safe isn’t a feature of our lives anymore. But she’ll be safer than she was, at least. And what more can any of us hope for now?

Chapter Two

Scott drives the car right inside the warehouse, and Joe rolls the door down behind us, then bolts it shut. Our safety relies on keeping our whereabouts secret. This old warehouse has been deserted for years, and if a passing dog walker starts seeing cars parked up, it’s going to raise all sorts of questions. When Pearce gets wind of those questions – and he will, I don’t know how he does it, but he misses nothing – he’ll come down on us before you can say ‘oops.’

Not according to Alistair, though. He has a theory that Pearce set his ambush for the Ishmaelians specifically so I wasn’t there when he sprung it. He thinks Pearce is afraid of me. And after everything the man put me through, he should be. There are about eighty Ishmaelians, so far as we know, but I’m the only one Pearce abducted, brainwashed, and turned into a weapon. I’d still be his own personal GI Jane if Scott and a few friends hadn’t rescued and deprogrammed me. Even now I still have flashes of rage, but these days they’re mostly directed at my former captor. And the little voice who squats inside my head. I call her the Savage. She helped me survive my captivity, but she has her own agenda, and she’s not so keen on being crammed back in her box now I’m out. I’ll deal. It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me, and it’s sure as hell not our biggest problem right now.

Anna, Scott, Joe says as soon as we step out of the car, and into the warehouse’s frigid air. Alistair wants to see you.

Gee, Joe, don’t give me time for a cup of coffee before I’m running around again.

I’ll bring you one, he says. Joys of hanging out with a mind reader: there are no secrets. One sugar, not too milky, I think as I shoot him a smile, and he rolls his eyes at me. Scratch that, I amend as Steph steps from the car and wraps her arms around herself. She’s on edge, and the sooner we can get her settled in, the better.

Hi, Steph. I’m Joe. We met before. Only a couple of times though, because like me, Joe is a defector from AbGen, and like me, he hasn’t had a whole lot of time to spend socialising.

I leave them to get reacquainted, and head off towards the old staff room that we’ve converted into a briefing room. That’s where Alistair will be, that’s where he always is. I don’t even know if he sleeps. Whenever I pass through, he’s hunched over one set of blueprints or another, or scratching out details of a plan we know we don’t have enough people to implement. The former soldier has always hated handling logistics; running the rebel faction is taking its toll on him. We’re squatting in this abandoned warehouse because we have to assume that all the former Ishmaelian hideouts are compromised. That means we have no access to any of Ephraim’s equipment or funding. We’re on our own out here, and AbGen isn’t the only threat. Right now, cold and hunger are bigger dangers. We have a roof, but no way to heat what’s under it, and we have cupboards, but no food to fill them. And a small group of cold, hungry rebels who are rapidly losing heart. If they weren’t more afraid of Pearce than they are of starving, I think some of them would have taken off already. Ephraim was the glue that held them all together, and without him they’re just a ragtag group of people with unusual talents – or ‘gifts’ as the Ishmaelians call them. Like anything about this whole situation is anything other than a curse. I link my arm through Scott’s. Except him.

Hey, Alistair, I greet the soldier, not bothering to knock on the open door. He sets aside the pile of papers he was pouring over and gives us a tired smile. His cheeks look gaunt and hollow and he hasn’t shaved. He rises from his seat behind the desk and holds out his hand to Scott.

Hi, Anna, Scott. How did you get on today?

Good. We convinced her to come back in.

He nods, sinking back into his seat.

Nice work. I really appreciate your help.

Anything we can do, you know that.

Yeah, about that...

He looks like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He’s a good soldier, but he’s not cut out to be a leader, and the role doesn’t come naturally to him. But fair play to him for stepping up – you wouldn’t catch me trying to organise the group of rebels for all the tea in China. Hell, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. But if we can help Alistair get his ducks in a row, then he’s only got to ask. Still, there’s no fun in telling him that.

I knew you were flattering us for a reason, I mock-grumble. You realise my hair hasn’t recovered from that last mission, right?

I run my hands through my dark damp locks – it’s already starting the frizz.

Well, I’m hoping no-one’s going to see you on this one, if that’s any consolation.

Oh? Funny sort of rescue mission...

There are a lot of mouths to feed around here. Supplies are running low. He has the decency to look ashamed, which is probably why I take pity on him.

Leave it with us. It’s not like we haven’t been working our way through our share of supplies, and my moral compass isn’t what it used to be. Alistair nods, looking relieved.

I’m going to debrief Steph, if you want to stick around?

Already? You might want to let her settle in first. She was scared out of her wits when we picked her up.

We can’t afford to wait. She was there when Pearce attacked, she might have intel.

I’ll go find her, Scott says, and heads for the door. Smart choice, if her reaction to me earlier is anything to go by. Not that I blame her. I’m her vulnerability, and coupled with the fact that my time in captivity turned me into a living weapon, it’s no surprise that some of the Ishmaelians are wary around me. Scott, on the other hand, has years of experience calming nervous absas, even if he spent most of those years working for AbGen.

How are they holding up? I ask Alistair.

They’re scared, he says. Some of them would have run already, if they had anywhere to go.

No surprise there. Nothing like a close encounter with an overwhelming force bent on enslaving or killing you to shake you up a little.

And you? I ask, scrutinising him. How are you holding up?

He takes a deep breath and lets it out, leaning back in his chair.

I was just a squaddie in the army, he says, until they promoted me to sergeant. Don’t get me wrong, I was good at what I did, and I loved it. But I never wanted to be an officer. All of this? When I came to work for Ephraim, this wasn’t what I had in mind.

You’re doing a good job, Alistair. They trust you, and that’s half the battle.

It won’t be enough if Pearce finds us. I’m not Ephraim.

No, you’re not, I agree. But that’s not a bad thing. You’re a soldier first, and Ephraim never knew how to be that. The Ishmaelians see your strength, and they respect it. When the time comes, they’ll follow you.

I hope you’re right, Anna. I really do.

A knock sounds from behind us, and I twist round in my seat to see Scott and Steph.

Come in, Alistair invites. It’s good to see you again, Steph.

Her eyes tighten as they flick to me, then she quickly looks back to the temporary Ishmaelian leader.

Thank you, she says, then adds with a glance to me and Scott, and thanks for finding me.

Alistair gestures to a seat and she perches on the edge, then asks,

Where’s Ephraim?

The three of us share an awkward look.

I’m sorry, Steph, Alistair says with a shake of his head. We think he was taken. We were hoping you could tell us.

He promised–

She breaks off and stares at her feet, studiously avoiding eye contact with all of us.

He promised what, Steph?

I should have stayed and helped fight, she says. That’s what everyone’s thinking, and they’re right.

No-one thinks that, Alistair says. Steph, if you’d stayed, you’d have been captured, too.

I had to do it, she says, lifting her head and looking between us all. I couldn’t let them lock me up, I can’t be in a cage, I have to be able to run.

Her foot’s drumming on the floor in a blur of motion and I can see it’s taking all her self-control to stay in one place. Now that’s something I can relate to. Is there a single one of us who isn’t damaged? Some army. We were so naïve, thinking we were going to turn the Ishmaelians into soldiers and launch an all-out attack on AbGen and somehow save the world. One quick ambush was all it took for Pearce to bury those ideas. He probably didn’t even need to commit his whole force to do it.

It’s okay, I tell her. I understand. And you did the right thing. You’re here, aren’t you?

But he’s not. Ephraim.

There it is again: the fanatical, almost religious fervour in her voice when she says his name, just like most of the Ishmaelians we’ve met. Like he’s some sort of hero; a god. That hasn’t been my experience. I try to keep that from my voice.

We’re going to get him back. I promise. But we need your help. We need to know what you saw before you escaped.

She swallows and nods.

They were everywhere. The men. They had black uniforms on, and guns. One tried to shoot me, but I dodged.

Dodged. A bullet. Damn, the girl is faster than I realised. I nod in what I hope is an encouraging manner, because I’ve suddenly forgotten how to speak.

Some of the others weren’t so lucky. We tried to fight back, at first. But they said anyone who surrendered wouldn’t be hurt. After they shot Paul... well, some of the others just dropped their weapons. Others ran. He didn’t. Ephraim. He kept fighting.

Who ran? I ask, then take a breath and try to calm my heartrate, but I can’t keep from asking, Did you see Mika? Or Rohan?

We’ve looked everywhere for them, but no-one seems to know anything. Whether they’d been captured, whether they escaped. The only thing we really know is that they weren’t killed – no bodies – but even that’s an assumption. Oh God, I hope they weren’t killed. They were only there because I told them it wasn’t safe to stay with us. I should have known better. I sent them right into Pearce’s trap.

Rohan was in the thick of the fighting. He used his gift to disarm some of the soldiers, but they caught on.

Yeah, when weapons start flying out of your hands of their own accord, it doesn’t take long to work out there’s a telekinetic involved, and even less time to decide he’s a threat.

He was trying to protect Mika. He wanted to stay and fight, but Ephraim told them both to get to safety. I think he knew we couldn’t win, and he didn’t want anyone else to suffer. He kept the soldiers busy while they ran.

They got out?

She nods.

"I saw them both go