The Kind

Chapter Thirteen and Epilogue

The official investigation into the destruction of the home of Sarah Richards lasted a week and was conducted in three parts. The first was the immediate response by emergency services, which evacuated the surrounding buildings and then combed the wreckage looking for survivors – or bodies – of which none were found. In the days that followed, teams of police investigators and insurance agents conducted their analyses, eventually concluding that the damage was most likely caused by a natural disaster, despite the localised nature of the event. Lastly, the newspapers ran a new conspiracy claim daily, printing pictures of the two large swords that had been recovered and quoting witnesses that claimed they heard shouts and screams from inside the building just before the walls began to collapse.
Outside the lines of orange tape encircling the debris, a small brown shoe landed on a minor article on the front page of the morning edition, which bore the head line ‘Townhouse Destruction declared a Natural Phenomenon.’ The shoe was worn by the former occupant, who had neither been found in the search of the property, nor had contacted any family, friends or authorities as to her wellbeing and whereabouts.
Step by step Sarah crossed the layers of rubble that had been first her hallway, then her living room. She vaguely recognised the sensation of loss that under difference circumstances she expected would have overwhelmed her. Instead a general numbness dominated: the net result of several weeks of cruel shocks.
Only one room was still remotely intact. Towards the back of the building a late-addition second bedroom had been installed by the previous owners, which Sarah had always wanted to turn into a studio. A coat of paint was as far as the idea had ever extended, but as she crossed the threshold into the only part of the house with three walls still standing, it was enough to pull her lips into an ironic smile.
Sarah sat in the corner of the studio, pulled her legs beneath her chin, and waited.

The crunch of boots on the fallen ceiling broke her from her daydream.
“Hello, Sarah.” Viralynn stood at the entrance to the half-collapsed room, a symbol of unrelenting malice. “I didn’t actually think you’d come back here.”
Sarah took one step forward, which her opponent mirrored. “You don’t know me very well,” she replied.
On a different face Viralynn’s expression could have been called a smile. “I guess not. But after today, that won’t be a problem.” Another step, then they both stopped. A current of energy filled the space between them, making Sarah’s skin crawl. Several large chunks of debris responded to the unspoken command and began to float in the air.
“There won’t be any trips to the beach for you this time. I have strict orders. This time, you die.” The first piece of debris left its place of suspended animation and flew in Sarah’s direction.
From the moment Viralynn had stepped into the room, Sarah had been feeling out with her mind, crossing the space that separated them and connecting with her energy. Now, as the chair-sized mass of fallen brick flew towards her, every instinct in her screamed ‘left’. Immediately she swung right, narrowly avoiding the supernatural projectile.
Viralynn’s smile twisted away as she shot the second block. Again Sarah dodged, missing a critical injury by inches. The third shot came with the speed of cannon-fire, but Sarah was ready. Fully aware she would not be able to dodge, she focused her mind into a single point and raised a barrier, just long enough to deflect the shot. It landed to her left with a small explosion of mortar and shatter brick.
‘Now!’ her inner-guide screamed, and she obeyed by launching a reverse-kick into the air behind her, catching Viralynn’s newly-materialised body in the chest. Sarah watched as she fell backwards, vanishing again before she hit the wall.
When she reappeared, Silas was waiting.
“Hello, Viralynn.” He was holding the same sword she’d given him during their last encounter, taken in secret from the police evidence storerooms. Her eyes went wide when she saw him. Already half-dematerialised, she began to fade again. She felt a pair of hands grip her by the arms, and a flood of energy overwhelmed her, pulling her back, keeping her in place. Meanwhile the blade found its home in her heart. Viralynn landed on her knees, disturbing the dust she had left in the previous rampage. A small gust of wind told her the room was empty before she collapsed altogether.

Sarah opened her eyes to the familiar sight of the forest glade where she had spent hours learning to master her abilities. It saddened her to think she never anticipated the true end those abilities would lead to. Choosing instead to focus on happier memories, she started looking around for the marker she had left behind. After a few minutes she turned to Silas, who had yet to speak.
“My marker, the brush… I can’t find it.” She was surprised at the stress she heard in her voice over the loss of such a small thing. Silas held up his hand and let a small object hang from a chain.
“This is more important.” It was the key to her former house, which by now had been upgraded from the site of a natural disaster to the scene of a murder. “I think it’s time I gave this back to you.”
Sarah didn’t speak, just looked at him for a few long minutes.
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she said quietly. In her heart she realised there was only one thing left that he could do for her, and that was spare her the pain of asking him to go. It was his self-sufficient side that had so often made her smile before, but she wasn’t smiling now.
“I think I have to, at least for a while. I hope you can forgive me one day.”
She didn’t know if she would, so at first she said nothing.
“Will I see you again?” she added at last. He held up the silver phone, the one with only one number in it: hers.
“If you want to,” he replied. Leaning in, he said his goodbye with a word, a kiss, and a small gust of wind.

***

 

Nearly two years had passed since the investigation against Sarah Richards was closed. No charges had been laid, due largely to the strange disappearance of the victim’s body from a secure location. After a long battle, Sarah had even managed to make a sizable insurance claim on the damage done to her house and had subsequently moved. Her new home was beautiful, with a significantly larger kitchen, both of which she longed to return to as she once again found herself in a white-walled room of the hospital.
“When can I get out of here?” she asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.
“Soon, I promise,” Dr. Carlisle laughed. “Just as soon as we can be sure you’re both in good health.”
Sarah activated her well-practiced ‘I’m perfectly fine’ face, but quickly turned it off when he responded with his ‘Doctor’s orders’ scowl.
It was then the reason she had been admitted to the hospital arrived in her room.
“Here she is,” came a man’s voice. “Do you want to hold her?”
Sarah ignored the jibe and held out her arms to welcome her baby girl.
Samantha Richards looked up at her mother for the first time, and promptly yawned.
“I’ll give you two some privacy,” said Carlisle. “Congratulations.”
Silas thanked him with a nod then turned back to his wife and new daughter.
“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Sarah mused, without looking up.
“Even better,” he added, “she’s human.” Leaning in, he reached down towards her. He stopped when his finger touched a tiny energy barrier inches from her face, which popped like a bubble.
The pair of them stared at each other, wide-eyed.
“Well, mostly.” He started to laugh. Sarah shot him a quizzical look.
“What’s puberty like for a Kind?” she asked nervously. He thought hard for a moment then broke into a wide grin.
“Interesting,” he answered.