X is for Xtreme

For this year’s A to Z, I will be doing a collection of flash fiction featuring Steven, the MC from Blackbird, from right before he came to Newstead through his first week there.

X is for Xtreme

We didn’t go back to the offices, like I thought we would. Instead, the man headed toward the woods that were just past the buildings.

     His mind was suspiciously blank.

     I looked further into the woods, but there was no one there. It was just the two of us.

     He turned to face me. “Stop doing that.”

     I flushed, I know I did. “Doing what?”

     He saw the confusion again. “You really don’t know, do you?”

     “I will if you tell me.”

     He paused, deciding. That’s when I heard his voice, not in my head; in his. “You can do things, can’t you?”

     I stopped breathing.

     “Don’t bother lying, I already know you can. And you’re not the only one. Everyone here can do something, and some of us can do lots of somethings. I’ve got a feeling you’re one of those, aren’t you?”

     I didn’t say a word.

     “Take my advice; this is the only time you’ll be getting it: Get better at keeping a lid on what you can do. I’m not the only one who can sense things like that, and this isn’t the kind of place you want to be standing out, if you know what I mean.”

     I didn’t know what he meant. At all.  

     “What’s your name?” I asked out loud.

     “Sargent Foltz,” he answered; all business again.

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