PinPoint: A HUNTED Bonus Short Story



  PinPoint: A HUNTED Bonus Short Story

  By Cheryl Rainfield

  Copyright 2011 by Cheryl Rainfield

  ISBN: 978-1-4658-1417-3

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please do (this is a free promotional giveaway for Hunted). If you’re reading this book and like it, then please let other people know. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  The plain language version: This book is copyrighted but does not have digital rights management, and it is a free giveaway to help promote Hunted. That means you can make backup copies for yourself, and convert it from one electronic format to another as you need for your own personal use, and you can freely share or give away this ebook to others, BUT you cannot charge money for it. Copyright law says that you may not sell electronic versions of this ebook. If you like this ebook, please let other people know about it. If you’d like to download your own copy, check out my website https://www.CherylRainfield.com, or https://www.cherylrainfield.com/bookGoodies.php?title=HUNTED for this ebook and other HUNTED goodies.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events

  described are imaginary. Any resemblance to real people,

  places and events is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Books by the Author

  PinPoint: A HUNTED Bonus Short Story

  Author’s Note

  Bonus Content:

  The First 6 Pages of HUNTED

  Links and Info to More Bonus Material For HUNTED

  The First 3 Pages of SCARS

  About the Author

  Books by the Author

  Cheryl Rainfield

  SCARS (WestSide Books, 2010).

  Kendra must face her past and stop hurting herself before it's too late

  ISBN: 978-1934813324

  An ALA 2011 Top 10 Quick Picks for Reluctant Readers; on ALA’s Rainbow List Biography; a Governor General Literary Award Finalist (Canada), and an ALA Stonewall Book Award Nominee.

  HUNTED (WestSide Books, Dec 02, 2011)

  Caitlyn, a telepath on the run from government troopers, must choose between saving herself or saving the world

  ISBN: 978-1934813621

  C. A. Rainfield

  Dragon Speaker: The Last Dragon (HIP Books, 2010)

  Jacob is the only one who can hear—and save—the last dragon.

  ISBN: 978-1897039465

  SkinWalkers: Walking Both Sides (HIP Books, 2011)

  Claire is part human and part Skinwalker. How does she choose which side to be on?

  ISBN: 978-1926847153

  PinPoint:

  A HUNTED Bonus Short Story

  Voices screech at me, grating through my mind, making it hard to hear what Ms Edwards is saying. . . . doesn’t like me any more. . . when will this class end?. . . can’t believe she snubbed me like that. . .

  I feel trapped in the small classroom, with the hot, stuffy June air pressing down on my lungs, and everyone’s mind-voices louder this late in the day, with people eager to escape. I lean forward in the hard chair, hands flat on the wobbly, pitted desktop, trying to shut everyone else out—everyone but Ms Edwards. It didn’t used to be so bad. My talent’s always been strong. But lately it’s felt like my brain is stripped bare, others’ thoughts gouging in like hail.

  I focus on Ms Edwards, on her kind eyes, her pleasing voice, the way she looks at each of us when she talks, and gradually her words start filtering through. “What do you think her body language is telling us?” she asks, tapping the photo of the frightened woman on the smartboard.

  I let the others answer, write down the things that make sense in my notebook—afraid, mistrustful, watchful. I have to do well enough that I don’t stand out, but not so well that teachers pay attention to me. So I resist grabbing everything I hear from Ms Edwards’ mind and copying that down. It’s hard to focus, any way, with Alex only a few seats ahead of me; I keep wanting to look at the tight curls of his hair, at the slope of his broad shoulders. Keep feeling his rich, deep laughter reverberate through me, though he’s not the one who’s speaking. I can’t believe I’ve fallen in love with a Normal. But I have.

  I drag myself back to Ms Edwards’ voice. It’s hard to focus; my head hurts fiercely. Even my eyes ache. And the incessant voices of my classmates keep cutting through my concentration. . . . bored, bored, bored. . . don’t know why she. . . I’m gonna get her back. . .

  I sit bolt upright. Ms Edwards glances at me, and I try to look thoughtful. The menace, the jealousy in that last mind-voice—that was Becca. She seems to have a hate-on for most people, but especially for Paras, or anyone she suspects of being a Para.

  I look around the room, but I already know—she’s not in this class. But she’s somewhere close by. I reach toward the vibrating anger.

  Outside in the hall. Waiting for someone. For one of us. . . . Gonna get her good. . .

  Her hatred is like toxic sludge filling my mind, making it hard to think. The pain increases, like my mind is being burned. The room shimmers around me.

  I drop my pen, reaching for my head. No. I snatch my pen back up. Blend in. Don’t call attention to myself.

  Whoever Becca is aiming for is in trouble. I’ve got to help them.

  Slowly, carefully, I open my mind up to Becca’s. Rage pours into me like burning lava. . . . said that about my mom. . . just wait. . . gonna make it look like she’s a pre-cog. . . get someone to finger her. . . she’ll never know what hit her. . . think she’s a Para, any way. . .

  I feel sick. Becca knows what will happen if she accuses someone. She’s seen it firsthand. The ParaTroopers storming in to arrest, guns drawn. The Para losing her home, her belongings, her family and everything she loves, to become a Para-slave—a government tool. So much grief, fear, and pain—and still Becca’s doing this.

  My breathing grows shallow. I’ve got to find out who Becca’s after. And how she plans on pulling this off. To set someone up as a pre-cog, able to predict the future—that’s not easy to do. I wrap myself in her thoughts. I can’t ask overtly who Becca’s pinpointing, or she’ll know a Para is in her head. I’ve got to phrase this just right. “She might be a Normal, but she looks like—”

  . . . A skank!. . .

  Okay. That didn’t work. Ms Ewards pauses, looking at me, and I scribble in my notebook, trying to look busy.

  “Caitlyn?” Ms Edwards says. “What do you think?”

  The class turns to look at me, and I realize Ms Edwards has said my name a few times.

  Crud. I slip out of Becca’s mind, and reach for Ms Edwards. She’s worried about me, about the way I seem so preoccupied, even troubled. She wonders if my coming to this school so late in the year is the problem, or if there’s something worse. I get a barrage of thoughts about the module we’re studying, and then the photo of the woman up on the smartboard.

  I clear my throat. “She looks tense. Like she’s trying to hide her fear and isn’t sure if she’s done that.”

  “Yes!” Ms Edwards nods. “Very good.” She turns her attention back to teaching. The class turns away from me and back to her.

  I reach for Becca again. She’s still there, her rage undulating through her. I’ve got to get her to be more specific. “She’s the one who—”

  . . . wears ugly clothes. Like hand-me-downs from her mother. . .

  I look around the class at each of the girls. Some are wearing hundred-dollar jeans and brand-name tops; I ignore them. Others have jeans that look more battered, skirts and tops that look like bargain clothes—but none of them look like
they’re from another decade.

  I bite my lip. I’ve got to figure this out. You lose more than your freedom when you become a Para-slave. You lose your family, your safety. You can even lose your life.

  Becca thought that the girl might really be a Para. I feel outward in the classroom for the bright energy that other Paras give off. There are three low-level Paras, and one mid-level—three girls and one boy.

  That narrows it down—but not enough.

  I glance at the classroom clock. Five minutes left to class. I don’t have time for this.

  Okay. Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way. Maybe I don’t need to know who Becca’s targeting. Maybe I just need to know what she’s planning to do, and stop it. If she’s trying to set someone up to look like a pre-cog, then she must be pretending they predicted future events. And the only way she could do that is if she’s a pre-cog herself—I feel inside her mind for the spark, and she definitely isn’t—or if she’s the one who set up those events.

  I wrap myself in Becca’s thoughts again, in her rage and twisted pain. “I’ve got it all planned out,” I think. “It’s going to work. I’ve already...”

  . . . sent Mr. Temple the email using her school account. That was easy. What numbskull uses their own birthday as the password? And I’ve already defaced the ParaWatch poster. . .

  I swallow. That’s an offense right there. Most Normals would never dare to do that. Most Normals wouldn’t even want to. The ParaWatch helps to keep them in power, after all. But a Para—a desperate, angry Para, or a Normal who’s lost a Para family member...might.

  I’ve got to find out where that poster is, and fix it. But first I have to find out what else Becca’s planned.

  I glance at the classroom clock. Three minutes. I lick my dry lips. “The poster...”

  . . . is perfect! Only a Para would deface one. . .

  As she thinks that, I see the poster—tattered strips peeling, hanging off like ringlets of hair, and beside it, a poster for the school dance, and just underneath, a fire alarm.

  I squint. I know that wall. But where—?

  Ah—next to the science lab!

  I push down my relief. “I also...”

  . . . crammed Todd’s locker with books ready to fall as soon as he opens the door. Accident number one. He never opens his locker til he’s ready to go home. . . lucky I know his combination . . .

  There’s a smug satisfaction laced into her thoughts.

  I clench my teeth. How will I ever get to everything on time, to stop it coming true?

  I’m not even sure she’s finished. “I also...”

  . . . am all set up. It’s easy to twist my ankle; I’ve done it before. But I’ll wait for just the right moment. There’s no way Mr. Temple can ignore three signs all in a row. . .

  The bell rings shrilly, breaking my concentration. I stuff my notebook into my backpack and leap out of my seat. I have to stop her!

  Ms Edwards sets down her book. “Caitlyn, can I see you for a moment, please?”

  “No!” I want to scream. “Not now! I don’t have the time!” But I just nod my head. Blend in. Don’t make a scene. But that girl—that poor girl—I don’t know how to warn her.

  Students push past me, rushing to escape the walls of the school. Rachel waves to me, “Catch you later!”

  Alex walks up the aisle toward me, his brown eyes intent on mine. . . . Something’s up. . . “You okay?” he asks quietly. I get a flash of my own face, pale and stretched, my mouth in a tight, unhappy line.

  “No,” I say. “Becca is setting up a girl—maybe a Para—to be fingered. Now,” I send to Alex. “Will you help me?”

  “Tell me what to do,” Alex thinks at me.

  “Caitlyn,” Ms Edwards says, one eyebrow raised, standing at the end of the room.

  I turn reluctantly, and start walking toward her. “There’s a ParaWatch poster outside the science room,” I send to Alex. “It’s been defaced. Can you take it down fast, before Mr. Temple sees it?”

  “I’m on it,” Alex thinks at me, jogging out the door.

  I reach Ms Edwards and look at her, trying to shove the impatience and fear so far down that she won’t see it.

  Ms Edwards smiles at me kindly. “Is everything okay at home, Caitlyn?”

  So much for blending in.

  “Yes, everything’s good!” I say brightly. Time’s running out. I want to scream. “Rachel!” I send, calling to her as loudly as I can.

  Ms Edwards looks even more concerned. “No problems with your parents? Or with the move, with fitting in here?”

  “No, no problems,” I tell Ms Edwards, keeping my voice slow and easy. “I like it here a lot. I’m okay, really! I just get these wicked headaches. The doctor says they’re migraines. They’ll go away.”

  “I’m here,” Rachel thinks at me.

  “Oh,” Ms Edwards says, sympathetically. “So that’s why you—” . . . wear those dark glasses. . . “That can be debilitating. I hope you have medication, something to help you through it.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I say. “It helps a ton.” “Rachel—can you do me a favour?” I send. “Todd’s locker is loaded with books ready to hit him when he opens it. Can you stop him somehow? Open it yourself, but be careful? It’s a set up—” “But when I get a bad headache, it really wipes me out,” I tell Ms Edwards. “I’m sorry I faded in class, but it’s hard to concentrate when it gets bad. Can I go now? I need to rest.”

  “Oh, of course,” Ms Edwards says, her voice full of empathy.

  “Thank you,” I say, and rush out the door.

  “Okay,” Rachel thinks at me, confused. “I can do that.”

  “Becca’s trying to frame a Para,” I add. “It’s urgent.”

  “I’ll stop him,” Rachel thinks at me firmly.

  I stop in the hallway. Some kids are still milling around, talking, but most have gone home. It’s Friday.

  “Caitlyn, can you hear me? I got the poster down!” Alex thinks at me. “Most of the pieces, any way. But there’s another one, further down, looks like someone took a marker to it. I’m going to get that one, too.”

  “Thank you,” I send faintly. But we’re too late. I know we’re too late. There’s hardly anyone left. Becca wouldn’t just leave after all this planning and elaborate setup without making sure that it all went down the way she wanted. My throat tightens, closing inward. I let another Para down, all because I couldn’t dodge a concerned teacher’s questions. I let a Para be captured, when I could have saved her. The florescent lights flicker and buzz above me, making the hall seem dimmer than it really is.

  And then I spot Becca, leaning casually against the lockers, scanning the hallway. At the same time, I feel a shielded flash of sadness and rage, tinged with a metallic scent, and then it’s gone. Mr. Temple! Somehow I know he’s in the stairwell, approaching us, though usually I can’t read him at all.

  Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe Becca wants to make sure Mr. Temple is the one who’s convinced, that Mr. Temple is the one whose suspicions are built up, so he’ll do the fingering.

  .I march up to Becca, my hands clenched. “You have too much attitude.”

  “What?” Becca blinks at me, like she’s shocked by the words coming out of my mouth.

  “Your homophobia. You make Rachel uncomfortable.” Becca’s attention wanders, and she scans the halls again. I know she’s waiting for Mr. Temple. “And it makes me wonder—why do you go after her so hard? Are you secretly attracted to her?”

  Becca launches herself off the lockers, her finger jabbing in my face. “You’re the one who’s a lesbo lover! You hang around her all buddy buddy while diddling Alex. He’s your cover, isn’t he? You just leave him alone!”

  I feel someone behind me, someone big.

  “Becca! Caitlyn!” Mr. Temple’s voice booms out.

  Becca stops talking and looks up behind me, her mouth opening and closing. I slowly turn around.

  Mr. Temple’s bald head glistens u
nder the florescent lights. His cold, hard eyes bore into mine. “The school is not your personal gab space. Classes are over. Now, unless you have an extra-curricular activity—” He pauses, waits for us both to shake our heads, “Then I suggest you go home.”

  “But!” Becca splutters. “But what about the poster? I saw it was ripped—the one by the science lab. You’re not just going to—”

  Mr. Temple narrows his eyes as he watches her. “Becca,” he says slowly, “You didn’t have anything to do with an email I was sent this afternoon, did you?”

  Becca’s eyes widen in false innocence. “Me? No. I didn’t send any email.”

  “Mmhmm.” Mr. Temple watches Becca sternly.

  I’m glad to see sweat beading on her forehead.

  “And how is your ankle today?” Mr. Temple asks her.

  “My—ankle?” Becca says, way too surprised.

  Mr. Temple’s eyes grow even colder, like ice over a stone. “Becca—fingering Paras is one thing. I’m all for it. You know I encourage it. We need to clean our streets, our schools, of Paras. They are dangerous. But setting a fellow Normal up for an investigation—well, that’s just plain wrong. Not to mention the fine you’d accrue—a fine I’m sure your father wouldn’t willingly pay. You must always remember our true enemy—”

  Mr. Temple pauses and looks coldly at me, “Paras,” then back at Becca again. “Not each other. Understood?”

  “Yes, Mr. Temple,” Becca says, bowing her head.

  Mr. Temple looks at me with frost in his gaze.

  “Yes, Mr. Temple,” I squeak out.

  “Good,” Mr. Temple says. He nods firmly, then strides down the hall, away from us.

  The halls are almost empty.

  Becca whirls around on me. “I don’t know what you did, but this isn’t over!” she says, her face so close her spit spatters my cheeks. She stalks off the way Mr. Temple went.

  I watch her go, a smile tugging at my lips. I can feel Alex a hallway or two away, getting closer, and Rachel not far behind. Together, we did it. We kept a Para from being captured. It might not be over, not for the long haul, but today it is. Today, we did something wonderful.

  Author’s Note:

  I hope you’ve enjoyed this short story I wrote to celebrate HUNTED and help get the word out about it. If you enjoyed it, please share the ebook with a friend or let them know where they can download it for free. https://www.cherylrainfield.com/bookGoodies.php?title=HUNTED

  I hope you’ll also consider checking out my novel HUNTED, if you haven’t already; it’s full of tension, suspense, and hope.

  In HUNTED, Caitlyn is a telepath in a world where Paranormal powers are illegal. She is on the run from government troopers. When Caitlyn falls for Alex, a Normal, and discovers dangerous renegade Paranormals, she must choose between staying in hiding to protect herself, or taking a stand to save the world.

  The amazing YA authors Adele Griffin, Pam Bachorz, and Cinda Williams Chima all loved HUNTED:

  “Spellbound by this one! HUNTED’s got my vote for the sharpest, most thought-provoking fantasy I’ve read in a long time. It’s hard not to fall in love with resilient, defiant Caitlyn, whose voice is as tough as it is pure.

  Vividly realized and tightly wound, HUNTED builds tension on the edge of a knife. Its cut-glass style will hook you, and its brave and provocative themes are sure to stir up both emotions and conversation.”

  -Adele Griffin, Author of Where I Want to Be, National Book Award finalist, Kirkus Best Book, ALA Best Book.

  “In this suspenseful parable of prejudice and oppression, Rainfield creates unique, appealing characters we root for until the satisfying end.”

  -Pam Bachorz, author of Candor, 2011 YALSA Popular Paperback

  “With its eerily contemporary themes, Hunted will set your pulse to pounding as Caitlyn, struggles to cling to a faith in the basic goodness of humankind in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.”

  -Cinda Williams Chima, The Demon King, A VOYA Perfect Ten, VOYA's Best Science Fiction, 2011 ALA Best Fiction for Young Adults list

  You can read the first six pages of HUNTED starting on the next page.

  Bonus Content:

  The First 6 Pages of HUNTED

  HUNTED