The Powers That Be: A Superhero Collection by Swardstrom Will

Author:Swardstrom, Will [Swardstrom, Will]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Superhero fiction
Publisher: LOOW Collective
Published: 2015-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

Five

In her dream it was raining, the kind of hard rain that came only at the height of the rainy season. It created a roar that drowned out the sound of speech unless you put your mouth directly to the ear of the person you were speaking to. She could feel the pounding rain reverberating through the ground where she lay, and smell the scents of sweat and wet leather trapped in the huts by the steamy heat.

And then she was lifted from both her dream and the ground by rough arms and harsh voices. Olisa opened her eyes to unintelligible yelling from the hunters and the guides who translated for them. Arms as strong as iron held her, her own arms trapped at her sides and her feet high off the ground. All around her, the rattle of stones and dirt died away as her feet left the ground.

She understood what had happened. She had let loose the pulse in her sleep again, and by all appearances, it must have been a strong one. Camp chairs had toppled and dishes lay scattered in disarray in the kitchen area. And the men in the camp had simply followed the ripples to their center—to her.

The other guides and porters—the ones who spoke her language or a dialect she understood—seemed undecided as to whether to scream she was a witch or call for her release as a Dibia. So, they were screaming both things by turns, an unfamiliar mix of reverence and fear on their faces.

Olisa kicked backward as hard as she could, but what could a girl as small as she do against the one holding her? All she managed to do with her kick was make the arms around her tighten even more, trapping the breath inside her chest and increasing her panic. Her toes reached for the ground, but she might as well be flying. A foot or a mile, it made no difference if she couldn’t touch the ground.

One of the porters—the stirring man—noticed her stretching legs and shouted, “Keep her off the ground!”

Olisa glared at him as the one holding her jerked her up farther with a deep grunt of effort. He had the look of her people stamped on his features. He must know the Dibia, or at least know enough to understand that they talked through the ground. Was he some hunter who had left their village when he was young seeking the modern life, seeking modern things? Under her glare, he at least had enough shame inside him to look away.

The three hunters kept up their indecipherable speech, punctuated by finger jabs as the guide translated, or at least made an attempt at it. They seemed to find the idea of the porters fearing her amusing, because after the guide finished speaking, pointing in her direction, all three of the hunters looked at each other and then at her, then laughed.

Olisa thought she understood them. They saw a half-naked little girl, ignorant of their ways and watching them from the bushes.

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