“Jacqueline! What are you DOING? Get back in here, you’ll freeze to death!”
Jackie Teryn’s brown eyes widened, almost falling getting up from her spot on the porch steps. The snow had melted where she had been sitting, leaving a Jackie-sized hole in the snowdrift that used to be her porch.
“Really!” Jackie’s mother shook her head, curly dark hair bouncing around her shoulders. She held the door open for her daughter. “And in your pajamas, too! What in the world were you thinking?”
Jackie sighed, turning facing her mother. “I went out to get the paper, and it was just really pretty out there, with the snow and all. So I sat down to look at it for a second.”
“It’s barely 10 degrees out there!” Her mother exclaimed, still shocked to have found her daughter sitting in the middle of a pile of snow.
Jackie shrugged. “It didn’t seem that cold.” She wasn’t lying. She had barely felt the chill against her coffee-colored skin.
Her mother sighed, rubbing her forehead in exasperation. “Fine. Look, I made breakfast, okay? Try not to freeze to death before you get to school.”
Nodding, Jackie hurried to the kitchen, slightly disappointed to find a couple of burnt toaster waffles waiting for her. “Um...” She poked at one with her finger.
Noticing her daughter’s hesitation, Gloria Teryn smiled sheepishly. “Sorry if they’re a bit overdone, but I lost track of time. I was-”
“Working.” Jackie finished for her. “I know.” She added, somewhat bitterly.
Gloria frowned. “You don’t have to be snappy about it.” She turned to leave. “I have to get going, if you’d rather go hungry than eat what I made for you, go ahead, just make sure you’re on time for the bus.” She said over her shoulder as she walked out the front door.
* * *
Running to the bus stop, Jackie arrived just time to watch the bus roll away. “You have GOT to be kidding me.” She cried, kicking at the snow under her feet in anger. “There’s no way I’m...” She sighed, realizing she had no other options. “...walking.”
Pulling her backpack higher on her back, she started to run after her school bus, leaving behind a trail of melted footprints in the snow.
* * *
“You are-” Mrs. Jones looked up at the clock, “- over forty minutes late for school.”
“Yes.” Jackie affirmed. She was still panting from her run, standing in the doorway of her science classroom.
Her teacher cocked an eyebrow. “Do you have an explanation for that?”
“I missed my bus, so I had to walk.” She said, hoping for sympathy.
“Mmm-hmm.” Mrs. Jones looked skeptical. “And you have a signed note from a parent that backs up your story?”
Jackie’s hopes plummeted. “No...”
Mrs. Jones smiled sweetly, like she always did when she felt she had an opportunity to teach someone a “lesson”. “And do you think that might be important?” She asked.
Jackie didn’t say anything, keeping her eyes on the floor. Mrs. Jones’ smile widened. “Maybe after-school detention will help you remember. I think two hours will suffice, don’t you?”
“It wasn’t on purpose..” She muttered, glaring at her shoes.
“Three hours, then. And sit down already, you’re doubtlessly getting snow all over my classroom.” Mrs. Jones sniffed and pushed up her horn-rimmed spectacles.
Face burning red, Jackie soundlessly walked down the aisle to take her seat in the back row. She could hear her classmates whispering around her, which only made her blush more. Tucking her feet, which were NOT covered in snow as Mrs. Jones had accused, under her chair, she tried to focus on what Mrs. Jones was talking about.
“As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted-” she glared at Jackie, who sank deeper into her seat. “-please light the bunsen burner that’s sitting at your table. After observing, share with your partner how you think it works.”
Jackie turned to her table partner, who was reading a magazine and ignoring everything that was going on around her. Jackie coughed, trying to get her attention. Her partner looked up. “Knock yourself out.” She said, then turned her attention back to “Do You Enjoy Magazine Quizzes? Take This One to Find Out!”
Annoyed, Jackie turned to the bunsen burner that sat on her table. Lighting it, she watched carefully as blue flame sprouted from the tip of the thin barrel. Staring transfixed at the flame, she watched unblinkingly as it flickered, unnoticing of what was happening around her- until she heard a scream.
Her table partner was shrieking at the top of her lungs, nearly falling out of her chair in her panic. “FIRE!” She howled, gesturing wildly at Jackie. “She’s on FIRE!”
Jackie looked around, wildly, trying to see who the girl was pointing at. “Where?!?” She cried hysterically. “WHERE?!?” She repeated, panicking. Then she caught sight of her hands.
Her hands were on fire with the same blue flame of the bunsen burner. In fact, her whole body was burning. Except she wasn’t burning. Through the flames, her skin still looked as whole as ever, far from the withered black one would expect from someone who was on fire.
She shook her head, unbelieving, causing sparks to fly from her curly brown hair. She realized the classroom was empty, her classmates having run out of the room. Well, almost empty. Jackie could hear whimpers from behind the teacher’s desk. She ran to the front of the classroom, hoping they could help her. Leaving flaming footprints behind her, she skidded across the tile floor to face- Mrs. Jones.
Mrs. Jones screamed when she saw Jackie, scrambling backwards until she hit the wall. “Stay BACK!” She screeched. When Jackie continued toward her, she grabbed an eraser from the chalkboard and threw it at her. It burned on contact, shriveling up at the white-hot flame that surrounded Jackie before dropping to the floor.
She started whimpering again, slowly standing up, her back pressed against the wall. “P-Please... s-stay back...” She stuttered, eyes watering from a mixture of heat and terror.
Jackie knelt down and picked up the remains of the eraser, which burned into almost nothing in her palm. She looked up at her teacher, her tears evaporating as soon as they touched her skin. “Please, help me!” She begged, resuming her walk. “Mrs. Jones, please!”
At that moment, somewhere in the school, one of the students had finally thought to pull the fire alarm, the blaring sound causing Jackie to stop and cover her ears. Jumping up, Mrs. Jones ran across the room to the glass case next to the door containing a fire extinguisher.
Smashing the glass with her arm, she cried out in pain but didn’t pause at the shards that were sticking out of her arm, instead pulling the red cylinder out of it’s container with a wild determination. Turning to face Jackie, who was walking toward her again, she held up the fire extinguisher and pulled the handle.
Jackie screamed when the cold spray hit her, knocking her to the floor, her head hitting hard against the tile. Moaning, she tried to cover her face, but her arms hurt too much to move even an inch.
Her eyesight started to blur from the pain. As her consciousness faded away, the last thing she saw was the blood flowing from the back of her head and Mrs. Jones’ high-heeled shoes, slowly stepping toward her.
* * *
“Ow...” Jackie mumbled, wincing at the pain that throbbed in the back of her head.
Then she remembered what had happened. She sat up immediately, cringing a bit at the pain and nausea the movement caused. “Mrs. Jones!” She cried- before realizing she was no longer in her science classroom.
She was sitting in what looked like a sterile white hospital room, which was empty and featureless except for the cot she was sitting on and the thick, windowless metal door that was directly across the room from her. Instead of a door knob or handle, there was a small keypad.
She tried to get up, but almost fell over from the extreme dizziness that came over her at the movement of her head. “Hello? Anyone there?” She shouted, hoping someone would hear her, before wondering if she really wanted to be heard- but it was too late, she had already spoken.
Almost immediately, a green light flashed on the top of the keypad, and the door swung open. In walked three people, all male. One of the men, who looked to be about in his sixties, was wearing a light grey pinstripe suit that matched his greying hair. The other two wore dark black suits and sunglasses to match, and each had on an earbud with a cord that tucked into the collars of their suits. The one on the right carried a folding chair.
The older man walked in front of the other two, who kept close behind him. The one with the chair set it in front of Jackie and unfolded it, moving out of the way as the older man took a seat. They both stepped behind the man in the chair and stood, immobile, facing Jackie.
Swinging her legs to the floor, Jackie tried not to show the pain and nausea the movement caused her. “Where am I?” She asked carefully, gritting her teeth to keep from moaning.
The man smiled, like he was glad she had asked. Jackie didn’t like his smile; it reminded her far to much of Mrs. Jones’. “You, my dear Jacqueline,” he said with that sickening smile, “are on a private aircraft. And you get a cabin all to yourself, unlike some of us.” He added, as if that should make her feel better.
It didn’t. Especially the part where he obviously knew who she was. “A plane to where?” She asked, scowling.
“That’s classified information.” The left guard said, before the older man could speak. “Sir.”
The older man looked annoyed, like he didn’t much enjoy the interruption. “Yes. Classified. But let’s just say you’re moving far away from Ammite City-” he paused to pull a piece of paper out of his suit coat, “-and Gardere, Erwinville, Harahan, and New Orleans.”
Jackie paled. He had just named the four cities she’d lived in for the past year, and her birthplace. They knew a lot more about her than just her name. “Who are you?” She asked, her eyes on the older man.
The man chuckled softly. “We’re the government.” He said simply. “Well, a branch of the government. A special research division. Our job is to find and study people like you.”
“Poor kids?” She asked skeptically, rubbing her pounding skull.
He laughed loudly, like he thought she was the funniest thing. “Oh, you crack me up, Jacqueline. But no. We’re more interested in high schoolers who can light themselves on fire.”
“B-But that couldn’t have been real fire!” She stuttered. “It was science class- the flames must’ve been fake!”
He chuckled again, looking like he was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Well, that’s what we told your classmates, of course. And tried to tell your teacher, but unfortunately she claimed that she ‘saw what she saw’...” he shook his head, laughing. “I’m afraid she’s retired now.”
Jackie shook her head, unbelieving of anything this man would tell her. “You said you’re the government. I’m a US citizen, I have rights. You can’t just take me wherever without my being arrested and convicted.” Or at least she hoped. “It doesn’t matter how special your ‘special research department’ is, you still have to abide to the constitution.”
“That would be true, if you were a citizen of the United States.” He said, shushing her when she tried to insist that she was. “No, you see, citizens cannot light themselves on fire, or breath underwater, or manipulate the wind. In fact, there’s a rather long list of things that citizens cannot do.”
She shook her head, unbelieving. “You’re crazy. You’re crazy and you’re lying.” She whispered, her gaze slipping down to her hands, which had, last time she had eyed them, been alight with blue flames.
“There are others like you, Jacqueline. Many others, actually. We’re taking you to them. You’ll be away from all the other, normal, people- besides our researchers, of course. I’m sure you’ll be quite happy there.” He said. “You know, you’re quite special. Even for one of our not-citizens.” He laughed softly, as if he knew something she didn’t.
“Stop it.” She muttered, rubbing her forehead in confusion. Not hearing her, the man continued to chuckle. “I said stop it!” She snapped, angry. She stared up at him, furious with him, herself, and the whole situation.
Uncomfortable in her gaze, the man broke off eye contact, standing up quickly. “Of course, it really doesn’t matter whether you’re happy or not.” He said quietly. “You’ll learn to live with it, just like the rest of your people have.” He shook his head, seeming disappointed. “We’ll be leaving now.”
“No!” She cried, finally getting up onto her feet. She hardly noticed her nausea in her sudden fear of being left alone in the horrible white room. “I need answers! Where are you taking me? Who are my ‘people’? Who are you, really?” She took a step forward before being blocked by the two other men.
The man smirked, a knowing expression that infuriated her even more. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, and I really do have to go. But maybe we’ll cross paths again, Jacqueline Teryn.”
“No!” She screamed, held back by the two men while the older man punched in a series of numbers on the keypad, and as the door swung open. Outside of the door, she caught a glimpse of a hallway filled with people, flight attendants walking back and forth. Before walking into the hall, the man shot a smug look back at Jackie- and froze. She watched his eyes widen in pure terror, and that was when she finally noticed the screams.
The guards who had been holding her were crying out in pain, pulling themselves away from her as quickly as they could manage. They held their hands, now withered and black from burns, close to their chests, falling backwards in a desperate scramble to get away.
She was on fire again. The older man backed out into the hall, terrified. The workers around him seemed to notice his panic and turned to follow his line of sight, then screaming and running themselves. Jackie, on the other hand, was feeling great. Her head didn’t hurt anymore. In fact, she didn’t even feel dizzy.
“No source...” he muttered, backing himself into the corridor, “she’s advanced quickly...” he looked up at Jackie in fear, “maybe too quickly...”
Angry, she ran forward and grabbed him by his suit coat, which burned and shriveled at her touch, until she reached his skin, and he was screaming. “GIVE ME ANSWERS!” She roared, shaking him until he collapsed to the floor.. She crouched down in front of him, the heat radiating from her making his eyes water. “Answers.” She repeated, dully.
He laughed, then broke off into a cough. “You look so much like your father... and you have his fire, too...” he coughed violently, then started wheezing. Jackie’s eyes widened in shock then narrowed again.
She stood up, leaving the man lying on the floor. The few remaining workers scrambled down the corridor in a desperate effort to escape. She ignored them, instead focusing on her surroundings. On one side of the hallway, there were windows that looked out across the clouds, so Jackie at least knew she was in the air. But on the other side of the hall, there was a long wall of seven doors, each that, as far as she could see, lead to a room like her own.
Each door had what must’ve been a one-way mirror at the top, revealing the inside of each room, which wasn’t much. Upon inspection, each room was empty except for a single cot- except for the last room.
Inside, Jackie could see a figure hunched up on the cot, facing the featureless white wall instead of the door. She turned to the keypad and placed her hand on it. She watched as the now-liquid metal dripped down the side of the door, but realized it would take forever for her to burn through the thick metal door. Hotter, she thought, burn hotter.
And it did. Her hand practically fell through the door as the metal melted, and she pushed it open easily. “Huh.” She smiled, feeling a bit triumphant.
Hearing her, the person sitting on the cot turned around. Catching sight of her, Jackie almost gasped. The girl sitting in front of her was easily the strangest looking person Jackie had ever seen. Her pale blond hair, which was almost white, stopped at her ears, but was cut choppily and still covered half of her face. Only one of her eyes was visible, a pale gray orb that shimmered in the white of the room. Added to her incredibly pale skin and skinny frame, the girl looked almost like a ghost.
“Well, hello there, matchstick.” The ghost said, her mouth widening into a grin. “Mind helping a fellow freak out of a jam?” She asked, holding up her arms, revealing the handcuffs that bound them together.
Stunned, Jackie walked over and grabbed the chain between the metal bracelets, which melted in her hand. The girl winced a little at the heat, but once the chain was gone she started grinning again. Standing up, she gave a stiff little bow before walking to the door, gesturing for Jackie to follow her.
“Name’s Tyra,” she said from the door, glancing out into the hallway, “but you can call me whatever the hell you want as long as you use those red-hot little hands of yours to get us out of here.” Seeming satisfied with whatever she saw, she stuck out a hand, then looking at the flames coming off of Jackie’s, pulled it back. “And you?”
“J-Jackie.” Tyra nodded, then walked out into the hallway. Jackie followed her.
“Hmm.” Tyra frowned, staring down the hall. Jackie turned to look at what was worrying her.
Five muscled looking guys in the same black suits and sunglasses as the men from earlier were running toward them, looking angry and determined. Tyra didn’t move, but her eyes flew from the men to Jackie’s room/cell, and she smiled.
“Stand back, matchstick, it’s my turn now.” Tyra closed her grey eyes, breathing in deeply and made a pushing gesture with her hands toward the suit guys, who were still running towards them.
Immediately, an incredibly strong wind wailed through the corridor, rushing past Tyra and Jackie but slamming into the suits, who crumpled at the gale and were blown into the open door into Jackie’s cell. Running down the hall, Tyra threw herself against the heavy door, slamming it shut. The door rattled with the suits’ efforts to get out, and Tyra swore when she noticed the keypad. “I can’t lock it, I don’t know the...” She trailed off, looking up at Jackie, then grinned again.
“Will you look at that,” she sighed, “I seem to have forgotten my welding torch at home.” She looked up at Jackie. “Care to do the honors?”
Jackie stared for a few seconds before finally understanding what she meant. “Oh! Of course.” She grinned, walking over and running her fiery hands along the edges of the door, welding it shut.
Tyra looked on approvingly. “Nice job, matchstick.” She brushed off her hands, then started walking down the hallway, gesturing again for Jackie to follow. “Now, what’d you say to having a little chat with our pilot?” Jackie nodded, walking after her.
When they came to the hatch to the front of the plane, Jackie melted through it without a second thought, and the pair stepped through to the pilot’s cabin.
“-mayday, mayday!” The copilot was shouting into a small microphone. “The captives have-” he was cut off by a wind that swept the microphone out of his hands and into Tyra’s. “Gotten slightly pissed.” She finished in a fair imitation of the copilot’s voice. “But we have it under control. Over.” The pilot tried to grab his own mike, but Jackie snatched it out of his hands, burning it to scrap.
“That’s right,” Tyra said cheerfully, “don’t you boys try anything, or my friend here burns your face off.” She finished menacingly. Jackie glared at her. “Ah, not literally of course. But you get the idea.”
Jackie finally spoke up. “Where was this plane headed?” She asked.
“T-The Newmann Institute, Nevada...” The copilot stuttered, eyes locked on Jackie’s flames.
“You were taking us to NEVADA?” Tyra said in disgust. “What kind of deranged torture is that?” She turned to Jackie. “I vote we ditch corn-land and fly this puppy to LA.”
Jackie shook her head. “They said that they were flying to a place where they study people like us. This ‘Newmann Institute’. We need to help them, but...” she bit her lip anxiously, “it’s a government facility, so it’d be really hard. We’d need some kind of huge distraction.”
Tyra thought about it for a minute. “I think a huge, fiery plane would make a pretty nice distraction.” She said, waiting a few seconds for Jackie to process what she’d said. “If you light this baby up before arrival, I can keep her in the air and make a nice soft landing on, I dunno, a government facility maybe?”
Jackie smiled. “You heard her,” she said to the terrified pilots, “fly us to Newmann Institute.”