Reality Heist by Geordi Riker (e manga reader .txt) 📕

“No, but we can spin a Pressure web between the three of us to at least deflect you guys so that you don't appear in the middle of a television broadcast or something.”

“Yeah, because the odds of that happening are extremely high.”

“You'd be surprised. We have crazy stuff happening all the time, what with the fact that we can sometimes manipulate the auras around us.”

“Yeah, because Pressure manipulation is helpful.”

“Don't be so sarcastic,” Tyler scolds, “We can do stuff. I can heal injuries and illnesses and stuff. All of us can.”

“Okay, yeah, sure whatever floats your boat.” The thoughts suddenly strikes me, “What time is it?”

Jake glances at his watch, “Looks like it's almost nine thirty.”

“Crap. I've got to go. Skip's gonna kill me for taking my sweet time.”

“We'll call you a cab.” He must have seen the fear flash through my eyes, because he changes his mind, “On second thought, I'll call up Mikey. He's the one on shift right now, right?” He turns to Tyler for confirmation.

He shrugs, “I guess. I have no idea. Mikey will do it though. We did save his daughter's life.”

“Yeah, but I hate the idea of taking advantage of people who think they owe us or something.”

Tyler flicks out  his phone, and quickly dials a number. He takes a few steps away from us and speaks quietly into his phone.

Jacob turns to me, “I'm pretty sure I've already said this, but just in case I haven't, you're always welcome here, no matter what's going on. This place was originally made for Travelers. I have a hard time believing that it was just a coincidence that you relocated within our walls. If you ever need help, just give us a shout, okay?”

Then he does something completely unexpected. He takes a step forward and hugs me. At first, I just stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Before I know what I'm doing,  my arms rise and hug him back. It feels good to have contact with someone, human interaction. My throat tightens as I remember how I used to hug my dad or Will. Now they're both gone, and I'll probably never see either of them again. I can almost see Will, standing by the door, ready to ambush me when I came home from school. She always beat me home, and was always waiting for her hug when I got there, even though she was in grade eight.

Tyler clears his throat. We separate quickly, but Jacob throws an arm around my shoulder as if we were long time friends. “Mikey's downstairs.”

“Already? Did he speed or something?”

“Actually, he was about to call it a night. But he's agreed to swing by Brandee's place on the way.”

“Does he even know where I need to go?”

“5432 Lowden Heights on Yorkshire Avenue,” Tyler replies promptly. He grins at my expression, “Healing's not the only thing I can do. Sometimes, I can read people's minds.”

“An extremely annoying habit,” Jacob murmurs, “Anyways, we've kept you long enough. Brandee, have a good night. I'm gonna go see if I can't ease Jason's burden a bit. Sometimes it's convenient to have the two of us looking the same.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze and leaves, the door closing quietly behind him.

I follow Tyler silently down the stairs, amazed at how the center has transformed in the hours we spent over dinner. The only people walking around are a few residents and the security guards, none paying us much attention as we cross the foyer and head outside. Parked at the bottom of the steps is a black car, sleekly designed, idly quietly by the curb. A man in a sharp, blue suit is waiting by the back door. He nods to the tow of us as he opens the door. I sling my bag in and almost dive in after it.

“See you soon, I hope,” Tyler waves as Mikey shuts the door.

I roll down the window, “Yeah, maybe, if I don't get too much of an earful from the gang for staying out all hours of the night.”

He shrugs, “Just say something like 'Hey, I'm a teenager. I need room to grow, dude.' I'm sure no one can argue with that kind of logic.”

We laugh. “Bye.” I glance at the driver and nod. We pull away from the curb and Tyler is soon lost in the night.

It takes a good ten minutes to reach the address that Skip gave me. Light gleams through windows on either side of the street, showing that people are home for the night, or just forgot to turn off the light before leaving. Mikey pulls over to let me out. Somehow, he manages to beat me to the door, even though he has to walk all the way around the front of the car. He helps me out. I drag my bag out with me, “Thanks.” The heat hits me like a shock-wave, and I try to cope with the sudden change from air conditioning to stifling August weather.

He shrugs, his eyes twinkling as he winks, “It's good to see that not all of you Travelers can teleport. Then I'd be out of  job. Take care, rainbow kid.”

No idea what he's getting at, so I just give a quick little laugh, which seems to be the right response. Before I can think of what to say, he's already back by his door, opening it and getting in.

“See you around,” I call out as he pulls away. A hand pokes out from the window in acknowledgment.

I sigh as I turn to the apartment building. 5432. I hitch the backpack higher up on my shoulder and step across the sidewalk, kicking away loose garbage. I step into the alcove between the two sets of double doors and press the button labeled 5432. Beside it, in bold, type-set letters, is the name of the renter “T. Black.” My eyes narrow at it even as the speaker buzzes, “Who's there?”

“It's me Ky, let me in already.”

“It's about time, Brandee. We were gonna send a search team out for you in a couple more hours.”

“Meanwhile I could be out in an alleyway somewhere, losing blood from a gunshot or 'knife and run' mugging. Nice, Jesse, really nice.”

“Sorry.” His tone leaves no doubt that he couldn't care less, “But we were in the middle of an intense game up here.”

“Just buzz me in already, or I'll kick your ass”

“You can't do that if you're stuck down there, now can you?”

“Shove it. I'll fly if I have to. If I do, though, I'm just gonna take it out on you, you know.”

“In that case, come on up. Eighth floor.”

The buzzer does it thing and the lock clicks open. I swing through the door. “'Bout time,” I mutter as I stalk through the foyer, past the guy on duty and up to the elevator. A little white note is taped to the shut doors, and I press the button with dread, hoping that it's wrong.

With a hiss of frustration, I turn away from the out-of-service elevator and heave the door to the stairs open. I step to the railing and glare at the distance I have to cover. “Why are we so bloody high?” I continue grouching as I work my way up the stairs, my full stomach making me want to stop every five steps. “What if we need to take off because the cops are onto us or something? Forcing it can't seriously be our number one option. Why are we staying in another blooming Black place? I thought the rest of them couldn't stand it.”

The complaints carry me to the third floor. “Flying has got to be better than this,” I mutter, trying again to make the Motes swirl around my feet. Nothing. Instead, a huge mount of energy seems to drain out of my body. I glare down at myself, “Seriously? I didn't even move anything and you're taking a nap?” I freeze as I realize what I'm doing. “I going crazy,” I say out loud to myself, “I'm psychotic now. All because of this Sliding. It's gotta be. I'm not insane, but this crap is messing me up.” I stare at the bottom of the set of stairs above me, “Okay, we've all had our fun. Now let me out. I want to go home. Time to wake up.”

After getting no answer after a few minutes, I shrug and start walking up the stairs again. “Fine, be that way.”

I wander down the hall, searching for the right room, but soon resort to sounds when I hear Ky's laughter shriek through the hall. Muffled voice chatter excitedly, and a collective groan emits from the door in front of me as someone yells something. I test the handle, and enter as it opens in my hand.

Jesse, Ky, Chase, and Dutch are gathered around the table, playing a fast game of cards, stacking different piles of the same colour until ten is reached. The pile is quickly pulled out by whoever laid the last card, and is replaced when someone turns over a one. Between the four of them, it takes only a minute or two before someone hollers blitz, getting rid of their designated stack of ten random cards. Amaar is sitting by the TV, watching the news. Skip's nowhere to be seen.

Jesse looks up as he deals the stack out again, “Hey there.” The others turn and grin at me.

“Have  nice walk?” Chase asks innocently.

“Shove it, Chase, I'm exhausted.”

“Yeah, we can tell. Maybe from now on, you won't forget your bag?” Ky suggests.

“I'll be sure to do that,” I say as I shoot her a glare. She just shrugs and sets up her cards.

“We didn't save you any supper, by the way,” Chase speaks up, “It was just some chow mien and chicken. Nothing too fancy. Jesse said that you got a free meal off of somebody?”

Don't say anything about it. No names, nothing. Jesse's voice is suddenly in my head. He stares right at me, his face unreadable as his eyes bore into me.

I blink in mild surprise at the intensity of his thoughts. Suddenly, I remember that Chase was expecting a reply. “Yeah,” I say, in a quiet tone,  “I did.”

Chase glances between me and Jesse, and shrugs, “Alright, well, you can either join our good Muslim friend over there,” he allows a Middle eastern accent to seep into his words as he gestures towards Amaar, “Or you can team up with one of us for an intense game of Dutch Blitz, having no significant relation to our beloved Drunken Dutch.”

“She can take over for me,” Ky sighs, “I've had enough of these bland colours.” She slams her deck on the table and skids her chair back. She stands up and pats my head, “Have fun, Shrimp.”

“Shrimp? Are you kidding me?” I slap her hand away. She smirks and hops over the back of the couch to land beside Amaar.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Jesse calls over to them, “Get a room!”

I sit down in Ky's chair, “So, how exactly do you play this game?”

Dutch grins evilly at me, “We've got a rookie, guys.”

“How about