The Origin by Wilette Youkey Read Free Book Online Page B

breath.
    “ Taku parata ,” John said under his breath, the tears pooling in his eyes. “ I ngaro tau .”
    The stinging on his skin momentarily stopped. “What was that?”
    He wiped at his face with his free arm. “Nothing. I’m just looking forward to the final reveal.”
    The stinging pain continued. “You’re going to look amazing once this is done,” she said, her voice a rasping monotone. “As long as you stay beefy, the tattoo will look awesome. You’ll totally look like a fearsome warrior.”
    John sniffed appreciatively. “Thank you. I’m actually a descendant of the Maori warrior Hone Heke .”
    “For real? Are you going to get the face tattoos as well? What are those called?”
    “A moko .” He paused, looking at his hazy reflection in the window. “I don’t think anyone would ever hire me again if I had a moko .”
    Nevertheless, he thought with a faint smile, e ven if I don’t entirely look the part, it will still be warrior’s blood that will burn in my veins as I exact revenge.
     
    * * * * *
     
    A few short months after he had come to the aid of the woman and her trapped baby, Daniel came to discover a whole new fantastic ability. He was on his way back to the dorms from a late Philosophy class when he heard shouting and laughing inside a house that he knew to be empty and on the market.
    What he discovered inside were three teenage boys and one girl, all furiously scrawling on the walls with different colors of spray paint. They were so busy laughing and carrying on that, at first, they didn’t notice Daniel standing in the doorway of the living room.
    “Hey!” Daniel had to shout to be heard, and as he did, his voice bounced off the bare walls, echoing throughout the empty house.
    All four teens stopped short, their fingers still poised on the can nozzles as they finally noticed Daniel. For a few heartbeats, they all stared at each other, all frozen in place. Finally, the vandals broke out of their trance, dropped their cans, and ran.
    Daniel, who could have rounded the group up in less than a minute, gave them a chance to run. He loved to give chase; running was the only one of his abilities that he ever allowed himself to enjoy without guilt or fear of consequence.
    “Five, four, three, two, one.” And with a wry smile, he took off.
    Only another five seconds elapsed before Daniel caught up with the vandals as they jumped over the chain link fence that bordered the properties. Propelled by an extra burst of speed, Daniel grabbed hold of the fence and vaulted over. On his way up, his middle finger caught in the wire and he heard the telltale crunch of a broken finger.
    He cursed as a sharp pain shot up his hand but kept on with the pursuit. He had suffered a few broken fingers in high school before – mostly when he had caught the football awkwardly – and the pain of this injury was nothing new to him. Still, a broken middle finger meant that he’d have trouble writing for a few months and would have to spend time at the computer lab to finish his homework and papers.
    Quickly deciding that he didn’t need all four delinquents, Daniel caught the slowest runner, a kid who was short and slightly pudgy, and dragged him to the nearest police station to confess and name his accomplices.
    Afterwards, as Daniel made his way back to the dorms, he remembered the annoying fact that he’d broken a finger. But as he unfurled both his fists, he realized that none of his fingers actually ached. He scratched his head and mentally retraced his steps as he gave chase; the middle finger of his right hand had definitely been the one caught in the fence. Why then did it not only feel fine, but also moved with ease? Had he just imagined the cracking sound of the bone and the strange angle his finger had contorted?
    What if…
    With a pounding heart, he stopped and rummaged in his backpack to retrieve a Swiss Army knife. His fingers shook as he held the tip of the knife against the pad of his