Click here for Part I of Parallel Lives!

Misha finally slept, her sleep dreamless for once. Her body shivered as she woke up and shed the thin blanket, as the lady had insisted on washing her clothes. She cloaked her body in darkness, a tight fitting bodysuit and headed downstairs. The lady handed her her clothes, neatly folded and smelling of lilacs. She pulled them on, relishing the warmth. She ate the oatmeal that was offered to her, yanked on her boots and strode out the door. Her first stop of the day was the train station. The train was her lifeline. If she could get there, she could get back to where she was within a few days, grab her stash of emergency items, and continue on her last lead. She knew after the firework explosions up in Vermont that it just had to be him. But she had only been able to find dead ends until a month ago, when she had started moving again. She debated shadow-jumping to under the sink and running for it. If she could just get a janitor’s outfit, she would be good to go.

Deciding to take a risk, as the train was still too far away for her to get there, and really not wanting to waste any more time, she ducked her head into a shadowy alley and let it re-materialize in the bathroom. There was no one there. She pulled the rest of her body through, taking care to avoid hitting her head on the sink above her. She knew she needed to puddle, if she had any hope of getting out of there. Focusing her energy, she let her body become the shadow. She moved, slowly, in the direction of the door, feeling herself flowing through the cracks. She felt herself hit cold air, she had to be close to the door. She slid under something else, hating not being able to see, and rematerialized...in a cage. She was in a cage. She took in her surroundings, finding she was in a cell across from her backpack and briefcase. She puddled again, grabbing her stuff, and ran for it. She barreled through doors, crashed through piles of crates, and made it to the front door. Where the alarm went off. Where she felt herself become immobilized. Where she was forcibly puddled. And boxed in. And everywhere was so bright all of a sudden. She could feel herself being moved by the motion of the puddle, despite her trying to hold it in place.

Misha's hands trembled as she felt a chill snake around her, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She was lying on her back in a white room, no shadows, not even her own, were visible. She frantically searched her memory for any recollection of how she had gotten here, yet she came up with nothing. It frightened her, not knowing where she was, how she got here, or what would happen to her. She swore under her breath, cursing herself for being so impulsive. She didn’t even need to come back. It was just a desperate move to try and get back on track. She should have waited for the train, gotten back, and just kept going from her emergency supplies. She glanced around the room. There was no door, only a small box, no bigger than a pet carrier, open on the floor, and her stuff in the opposite corner. She could see tiny dots on the walls, cameras and motion sensors tracking her every move. She sighed again, wondering if they had confiscated her beacon as well. She hated to use it, but it would open a portal to a safehouse where she would be rescued. She wondered why she hadn’t used it before, to leave. She knew she couldn’t jump with her luggage, but the beacon would have gotten her to safety. She rummaged through her stuff, finding the beacon, no bigger than a lipstick container. She pressed the button. Nothing happened. She tried again. Nothing. She tried to create darkness. She felt weak. A voice came from nowhere.

“That won’t work here, darling. Don’t worry, we will let you out of there. As soon as our representative from the government arrives.”

She could almost hear the grin in his voice, the taunting sneer. They wouldn’t let her out. She was a prisoner, and may as well accept it.

Max flew with a flock of birds, trying to avoid suspicion. He was chatting happily to one when it squawked loudly, startling him. It tumbled to the ground as a rain of bullets started trying to hit the birds. He felt one clip his wing as he tried to hide in a tree, and plunged towards the ground. He could hear something approaching him, now helpless on the ground, but he couldn’t see it. He could feel cold metal pressed against the side of his head, but still could not see it. Desperately, he forced his feathers away, imagining himself again, and popped into human form. He could hear someone gasp, the metal lifted. His arm throbbed. Where the bullet had hit him as a bird was now a chip in his arm, right above the wrist. He picked himself up, ready to run, and plotted his best escape route. He started running.

Someone materialized in front of him, shotgun in hand.

“Who are you?” They asked, head swimming in shock. Max came to a halt, a ;look of pain and terror on his face.

“Max. You are?”

“L. Just L. Welcome to forest haven, Max.”

“Forest haven?”

“We are a group of super people. We live out here, provide for ourselves. Train to get better lives.”

“Better lives?” He repeated dumbly

“Of course. Come with me. We can all explain, back at base. And fix your arm. Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m headed to a different safehouse. Cobra head or something like that. The birds recommended it.”

“Max, that was burnt down three days ago. Everyone from there is now here.”

“How? Why?”

“Come along, Max. We can explain everything.” She gripped his hand, leading him through the forest. It bugged him that he couldn’t see her again, but he went anyway. He did need to get his arm patched up anyway. She led him into a tree, then down a path to an underground bunker.

“L!” A young kid cried out “Did you get any good meat?”

“No. But I did find another like us. I kinda shot him…”

“L...Why?”

“D. I don’t have time for more questions. I need to get him to HQ”

“HQ is in the training room right now” The one called D responded.

She lead him down the halls, into a large open area, littered with tree stumps, logs, frogs, dummies, and several guns.

“Hey HQ! I got us a new recruit!” A large man in a black suit walked over.

“Well. Max Whover. I’m HQ. A telepath. You are a shapeshifter, correct?” The man gripped his hand, and in an instant another boy came over. He touched his wound, which healed at his touch, and walked away.

“Yes, sir”

“Max, welcome home.

“Um, sir? Whover isn’t my last name” He stuttered