only a five-year-old kid. Besides, with Michael and Anthony to look after too, it was hard being equally responsible for all three of them.
Never before had Jonathan felt so defenseless.
Then he got a knock on the door.
He’d been expecting a knock for quite a while. It went back to when he’d saved a load of people from a falling aircraft. He’d used his… abilities to stop a plane falling in midair. Saved everyone on board. Of course, there was no official confirmation that it was a man who’d done this, but enough conspiracy theories were going around to catch the government’s attention.
He stopped in front of the final door. Held his breath.
There wasn’t a “Dr” on this door.
Just “Reverend Lewis”.
He lifted his hand and knocked on the wooden door.
The knock on the door that he’d got four weeks back had been from a government official. They’d sat down and told him they knew what he was capable of. Somewhere down the line of his ancestors, he must’ve been born of a man or woman who they’d been testing abilities on ever since the Second World War. But they’d never seen abilities as pure and as refined as Jonathan’s. They wanted to take him in to transfer those abilities to others.
Jonathan agreed. He saw what just a trickle of his blood could do. Not everyone was receptive, but the government had developed a technology to figure out whether a person’s blood type was receptive. After they’d taken several vials of it, they told Jonathan that his blood would be used to create something beautiful. To usher in a new utopia within a matter of years.
Then they told Jonathan they knew of another like him. Another with stunning abilities.
One of those abilities?
He could heal other people.
The door in front of Jonathan opened up.
Standing at the other side of the door was a man. He had short black hair. Big bags under his eyes. He was a little tubby around the waist. His white shirt was creased, and his trousers were too slim for his body. He hardly looked remarkable.
He held out a hand. “Jonathan. Come on in. Pleasure to finally meet you.”
Jonathan took his hand. “Reverend Lewis. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Reverend Lewis waved his other hand then led Jonathan into his office. “You don’t have to call me Reverend Lewis. It’s a real mouthful. Just Lewis would suffice. Or if you’re feeling extra generous, ‘Saint.’”
Jonathan sat down opposite Lewis. His office was quaint. There was clutter all over the place. Balls of elastic bands. Drawings of the world. Diagrams filled with equations. A faint sourness of a decaying fruit bowl filled the air.
“Oh, the bananas,” Lewis said, noticing where Jonathan was looking. “I always leave them just past their good phase, don’t you?”
Jonathan watched as the brown, crinkled bananas turned straight again, and went vibrant yellow.
He looked back at Lewis in amazement. “So your daughter. I’m assuming you want to cut to the chase.”
Jonathan nodded. “Sorry. It’s just…”
“Meeting someone else with powers like yours for the first time is weird, hmm?”
“Something like that.”
“Makes you wonder just how long it’ll take before we’re not so special at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Those vials of blood. You and I both know what the government plan to do with them.”
“I guess. But they could go to good use.”
“Perhaps so,” Lewis said. There was a sinister look about him, like he wasn’t totally present. It snapped away almost as immediately as Jonathan noticed it, though. He clapped his hands together. “Anyway. Your daughter. Where is she?”
“She’s… she’s at home.”
“Well, I’ll need her here to—”
“My other children.”
Lewis looked down at some paper. “Two boys, I believe.”
“I can’t have them go through what Sophie’s gone through. I can’t have them feeling the pain she’s felt. Ever.”
“You’re asking me to cure them before they’re
Never before had Jonathan felt so defenseless.
Then he got a knock on the door.
He’d been expecting a knock for quite a while. It went back to when he’d saved a load of people from a falling aircraft. He’d used his… abilities to stop a plane falling in midair. Saved everyone on board. Of course, there was no official confirmation that it was a man who’d done this, but enough conspiracy theories were going around to catch the government’s attention.
He stopped in front of the final door. Held his breath.
There wasn’t a “Dr” on this door.
Just “Reverend Lewis”.
He lifted his hand and knocked on the wooden door.
The knock on the door that he’d got four weeks back had been from a government official. They’d sat down and told him they knew what he was capable of. Somewhere down the line of his ancestors, he must’ve been born of a man or woman who they’d been testing abilities on ever since the Second World War. But they’d never seen abilities as pure and as refined as Jonathan’s. They wanted to take him in to transfer those abilities to others.
Jonathan agreed. He saw what just a trickle of his blood could do. Not everyone was receptive, but the government had developed a technology to figure out whether a person’s blood type was receptive. After they’d taken several vials of it, they told Jonathan that his blood would be used to create something beautiful. To usher in a new utopia within a matter of years.
Then they told Jonathan they knew of another like him. Another with stunning abilities.
One of those abilities?
He could heal other people.
The door in front of Jonathan opened up.
Standing at the other side of the door was a man. He had short black hair. Big bags under his eyes. He was a little tubby around the waist. His white shirt was creased, and his trousers were too slim for his body. He hardly looked remarkable.
He held out a hand. “Jonathan. Come on in. Pleasure to finally meet you.”
Jonathan took his hand. “Reverend Lewis. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Reverend Lewis waved his other hand then led Jonathan into his office. “You don’t have to call me Reverend Lewis. It’s a real mouthful. Just Lewis would suffice. Or if you’re feeling extra generous, ‘Saint.’”
Jonathan sat down opposite Lewis. His office was quaint. There was clutter all over the place. Balls of elastic bands. Drawings of the world. Diagrams filled with equations. A faint sourness of a decaying fruit bowl filled the air.
“Oh, the bananas,” Lewis said, noticing where Jonathan was looking. “I always leave them just past their good phase, don’t you?”
Jonathan watched as the brown, crinkled bananas turned straight again, and went vibrant yellow.
He looked back at Lewis in amazement. “So your daughter. I’m assuming you want to cut to the chase.”
Jonathan nodded. “Sorry. It’s just…”
“Meeting someone else with powers like yours for the first time is weird, hmm?”
“Something like that.”
“Makes you wonder just how long it’ll take before we’re not so special at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Those vials of blood. You and I both know what the government plan to do with them.”
“I guess. But they could go to good use.”
“Perhaps so,” Lewis said. There was a sinister look about him, like he wasn’t totally present. It snapped away almost as immediately as Jonathan noticed it, though. He clapped his hands together. “Anyway. Your daughter. Where is she?”
“She’s… she’s at home.”
“Well, I’ll need her here to—”
“My other children.”
Lewis looked down at some paper. “Two boys, I believe.”
“I can’t have them go through what Sophie’s gone through. I can’t have them feeling the pain she’s felt. Ever.”
“You’re asking me to cure them before they’re
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