It
was dark. The air smelled of sulfur mixed with crushed pine needles. The car
Jack found himself in was of middling size, probably a van of some sort, though
he was too out of it to be sure. At the wheel was the mysterious man who took him
from the museum. He was humming along to the car’s radio.
What the...how did I…? Dan! The museum! What
the hell is going on?
“Ah!”
exclaimed the driver. “You’re finally awake!” He twisted his head around and looked
down upon Jack, who was lying across the back seats, his hands tied in front of
him. Jack noticed the kidnapper’s eyes were back to a normal color, a bluish
gray. He could also make out some more details of his assailant’s face, though
found nothing particularly spectacular about it.
“I
suppose it’s time I introduced myself, formally,” he stated with a grin.
Yeah…the
boot to my face wasn’t a great first impression.
“You
can call me Dean. And yes, that smack to your head may have been a
bit…excessive…alas, it was necessary. I was instructed to bring you to our
compound any way I could as long as you were left alive, and that seemed to be
the best solution available.”
Jack grimaced.
“The best solution? I’ll be lucky if the worst I suffer is a concussion!” He
winced as he spoke; a cause of the injuries suffered at the hands of the
mysterious Dean no doubt.
“I admit,” mused
Dean, “that I sometimes forget my own strength when dealing with ordinary
people.”
Ordinary? What is he talking about?
Jack doubled over
as the pain he was experiencing intensified, expletives streaming from his
mouth. Dean didn’t seem phased by the display.
“Sorry about the
pain, but, as you’ve probably noticed, it keeps you from asking too many
difficult questions. As for your injuries themselves, well, I made sure that
you’ll live.” He winked at Jack, who was still writhing in the back seat.
I have to fight this…I have to fight back!
“Don’t get any
bright ideas, friend. Besides, we’ve only just met. I never like kicking a
stranger’s ass twice in the same day, especially when they’re so outmatched.”
Dean stated this in a nonchalant, almost detached manner. Jack was worried now,
especially since it seemed that Dean could read his mind, or at the least could
make highly accurate guesses as to what he was thinking.
I still have to try…
“My my, you’re an
intuitive one. Yes, I know what you are thinking. And given what is running
through your thick skull at the moment, I’d advise for you to refrain from any
acts of stupidity. Otherwise, well, you know what will happen,” he lifted his
hands from the wheel and cracked his knuckles.
Once Dean was
satisfied that Jack had no intention of struggling any further, he turned his
attention back towards the road, his leather trench coat squeaking as it rubbed
against his chair.
Defeated, Jack
stared upwards towards the ceiling of the car. It was all he could manage,
given the way he was tied and positioned on the back seats. He exhaled, and
began controlling his breathing. The pain was still there, but as long as he
minimized his movement, it became bearable.
Suddenly, a phone
rang. Jack knew it wasn’t his, as even in the state he was in, he could hear
that it wasn’t coming from his pockets.
He didn’t have to
speculate any further when he noticed Dean’s right hand leaving the wheel,
reaching for the phone ringing in the upper pocket of his coat. He pulled the
device out, and answered.
“Hey, I’ve got the
kid,” Dean stated. Jack couldn’t make out the voice on the other side, but by
the way his captor spoke, he figured it was his superior.
“Yeah, he proved
to be a cinch to handle,” Dean laughed, “and you thought I would have trouble
with him!” The conversation continued, and Jack tried eavesdropping as best he
could.
“Based on
potential? What potential? The kid was knocked out by one blow to the stomach.
When you recruited me my reaction times were already beyond what any human
could achieve!” He rolled his eyes. Jack’s heart jumped as the car swerved,
Dean’s attention was not on the road but on the phone call.
What is he talking about? Potential? Does
that mean if he can read minds it’s possible I could do the same thing? Maybe I
should…hmmm. Dean is distracted by the
phone…this could be my only chance.
In
a moment of inspiration, Jack focused all of his thoughts on trying to read the
mind of his assailant.
Here goes nothing!
“Don’t
worry! His parents have no idea that he’s gone missing, and as soon as we get
to the compound, we’ll have him patched up. I didn’t kick his ass too bad-,” Dean
stopped mid sentence, his brow furrowing. Blood began dripping from his nose.
He dropped the phone, using his now free hand to clutch his forehead instead.
In the chaos he began losing control of the car.
Jack continued the
mental assault regardless, astonished that his attacks were having such an
adverse effect. He continued his siege on Dean’s mind, trying to glean any
information he could. He wasn’t sure how it was working, but he kept at it
anyways.
The car swerved to
the right violently. Dean reestablished control just in time to prevent a crash
into a tree on the side of the road, bashing his foot into the brakes to do so.
The car skidded for some time, and ended up positioned haphazardly adjacent to
the highway.
Dean was still
under assault from Jack, but managed to pick up the phone he had dropped
earlier. The other person was still on the line. Sweat streamed down Jack’s
face as he tried to maintain his focus on gaining access to his captor’s mind.
Dean opened the
driver’s door, still grasping the phone. Once outside, he staggered to the side
of the van, and slid the door open. His eyes met Jack’s as he stood just
outside the opening, both men breathing heavily. He put the phone back to his
ear and began to speak.
“You were right.
The kid’s got potential. Deadly potential. But it’s raw, very raw.”
Jack could sense that
his assault was losing its effectiveness, and winced when he felt a foreign
force enveloping his thoughts. Clearly, Dean was fighting back.
Jack was sure that
his captor would take this opportunity to kill him, though it seemed his fears
were misplaced. The only effect Dean’s counter attack seemed to have on him was
that he could no longer utilize his mind to launch mental offensives. For now,
his thoughts were contained.
“Don’t worry, I
blocked off his mind. He should be harmless for now.” Dean slid the door to the
van shut, and got back into the driver’s seat. His ear still glued to the
phone, he continued his conversation.
“Have the
specialists make note of Jack Martin’s mental triggers: rage, pain, and
anxiety. Until he’s fully trained it will be good to know what causes his
powers to manifest. That way, we can avoid anymore…surprises.” Dean listened to
the man on the other side of the phone, nodding periodically.
Jack gasped in agony,
the pain from his injuries returning thanks to the strain on his body caused by
his psychic outburst. The driver, noticing the commotion, took a moment to peer
back at his captive, smiling playfully.
“I think you’ve
heard enough,” he said. Raising his left hand, he snapped his fingers.
Jack blacked out.
Satisfied, Dean
returned to his phone call and started the van’s engine. Then, he turned back onto
the highway and resumed the journey.
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