First Day Blues

Not sure what I'm doing with this story. The basic idea has been bashing away at my brain for the last 2 weeks. I'm thinking I may post it here under Minds+, or I could just write it part time as a series. Or I may just shove it off to the side. 

***

Heather sat hunched down in the padded chair, feeling carsick from the long drive and fear, her arms were held in front of her supported by two braces, with her hands hanging free. Her stomach growled, the remains of a breakfast sandwich was smeared against the side of the bare metal box she was sitting in. The truck jolted as it hit a pothole, making her cramped and aching arms hurt even more. 

She wondered how much further they had to go. There weren't any windows to look out of, there was only the chair and a dim light to see by. She didn't try to talk to the two men in the cab, she hadn't spoken to them once during the long night drive. Even when they made her get out to use the bathroom or to give her some food, she kept her mouth shut. She didn't have anything to say to them. 

Shifting slightly, she lowered her head onto arms, and tears began to fall. “I want to go home,” she whispered.

**

“According to Statistics Canada, there are now approximately 23,500 Altered Humans in the country. This has increased calls by all sides for the federal government to come up with a plan on how to deal with this growing situation,” the news anchor said. 

Mouser turned off the TV and snorted. “If only it was that easy,” she muttered. “We don't even know what to do with ourselves.”

Her tail moved gracefully through the air as she stood up, grabbed her coffee and walked out of the small kitchen, which still had plaster dust in the corners and smelled of fresh paint. The building was silent now, but that wouldn't last for long. Putting on her shoes, she stepped out onto the large porch, her whiskers twitched in the warm wind. The day promised to be a scorcher, which considering her permanent fur coat was going to be hell. At least the AC was finally working.

Looking out over the well manicured grounds that formed her new home and the forest beyond, Mouser wondered if this was really the best choice for her.

The place was just on the outskirts of the small town of Little Falls, Ontario, formerly a dying town full of retirees and the few young people who kept things running. The only thing it had going for it was the quiet dullness that permeated the entire area. It should be just what she needed after the last few years. 

It also made it the perfect place for the small school known by the unassuming name of Experimental School #2 of Northern Ontario. She smirked to herself, it didn't exactly roll off the tongue, but no politician, group or community wanted their name attached to something that might just, quite literally, blow up. The sister school in Toronto hadn't exactly had an easy time of it, and that one had gotten a lot more support from the government, being bigger and the model for all future Altered schools.
 

At least she could avoid most of the bureaucracy and politicking, she just had to deal with teen angst and drama.

“Maybe I shouldn't have retired. Bullets just might be easier to handle,” she muttered, lips twitching into something like a smile.

Her large ears perked up at the sound of a truck coming down the long driveway. “Time to put your game face on Mouser, vacation is officially over.” Exchanging her coffee for a clipboard and a small stack of papers, she went over to the truck as it came to a stop. 

The truck didn't look like much, just a beat up, generic moving van. The two men who stepped out of the cab were more impressive, being solidly built, each one had a pistol on their belt. They practically marched over, not even blinking at the sight of her black fur and catlike appearance. “You're Ms. Mouser?” the older one asked. 

“That I am,” she said with a toothy smile. She showed them her ID, purely for procedure, there was no way anyone else could pull off her unique feline look. They handed her their papers, a quick glance showed that everything was in order and she signed her name at the bottom. 

“How is she doing?” she asked, walking to the back of the truck. 
 

The driver shook his head. “Depends on how you mean. She didn't make a peep the entire way, did everything we asked without complaint, I wish my own kids were that obedient. But she didn't talk to us, barely ate, and if we didn't tell her to step out to stretch her legs and clean up, she wouldn't have left her seat.”

“Damn. The files said she wasn't doing well, but I didn't think it was that bad.” Mouser flicked her tail in annoyance. “Well, lets get her out and in the sun. Maybe she'll perk up once she's had a chance to settle herself.”

The back of the trunk opened up revealing thick armoured walls and a comfortable chair with inbuilt speakers, a little screen, and a mic. A girl sat watching them with large brown eyes that were bloodshot and puffy from crying. Her hands were elevated ensuring she couldn't touch anything. She didn't make any move to leave the seat.

Jumping in, Mouser went to the girls side, undoing the seat belt. “Hey, Heather,” she said softly. “I'm Mouser, your new dorm mother. If you want I can take you to your room, all your things are there waiting to be unpacked. Or I can make you some breakfast and show you the school after you freshen up, whatever you want.” 

Silently Heather got to her feet, keeping her hands well away from everything. Mouser reached out to help her step down. 

The girl jerked back, her body blurring for several seconds. “Don't touch me!”

“OK,” Mouser said, stepping back. “No one's going to touch you.”

Once they were out of the truck, she held out the papers for the girl. “Here's the student handbook, all the basic rules, info and names you need to know are in there. It's a bit of a work in progress, we're hoping to have something a bit more professional for next term.” 

Heather looked at the stack of papers like it was a snake. 

“You need to hold them,” Mouser said. “Learning how to control your powers is one of the reasons you're here.” 

The teen gingerly took the papers, her body blurred again but nothing else happened. 

Smiling cheerfully, Mouser said, “See, nothing to worry about. Now if you'll just give me a second.” Turning to the two men, “Thanks for getting her here safely. You can grab some breakfast at the cafeteria, they've put out some basics for the staff.” 

“No thanks.” The driver pointed at his partner, “He slept all night so we're good. We've got a long day of driving ahead of us, might as well get started.”

“All right then, have a-” She saw Heather blur again, far more violently than before. Acting purely on instinct she dropped to the ground as wind whipped past her fur.

“I'm sorry!” Heather said, sounding like she was about to cry.

Looking over her shoulder, Mouser saw the papers the girl had been holding were embedded into the wall like razor blades. Reaching up to touch her hairlike fur, it felt a little shorter than before, fortunately her cat ears were in one piece. “No harm done, I needed a haircut anyways,” she said, smiling to hide her nervousness. Getting back to her feet, she motioned towards the dormitory, “Now then, lets get you sorted out and relax until everyone shows up.”

“Leave me alone!” Heather cried. “I shouldn't be here! I want to go home!”

Backing off, Mouser kept smiling while discretely motioning to the men to stay back. “I know what you're feeling. I went through something like it to, when I got my unique looks,” she flicked her tail for emphasis. “As soon as we get your power under control you can go home. We're going to teach you how to safely use your power as fast as we can. But right now you're tired, and looking at the sandwich I saw smeared on the truck you must be starving. Come inside, I'll get you something to eat, then you can take a nap until your dorm mates show up this afternoon.”

“Stop talking to me like I'm a child! I want to go home now!” She stepped back towards the truck, causing her hand to gently touch the bumper.

The truck blurred for a second. Mouser and the men watched in shock as the heavy vehicle skidded across the lawn, snapping a tree in half before hitting the stone wall over 50 meters away with a loud crunch. The wall held, barely. The truck wasn't so lucky.

The teen fell to the ground with a faint groan. Mouser knelt down, quickly checking her over. “Just unconscious, good to know how much she can handle,” she said to herself.

“Is she going to be all right?” the driver asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, she just hit the wall hard. It's a problem for kids who have only recently become Altered. This is worse than usual because she's exhausted and hungry, but it happens to all of us at some point.

Looking up at the men who were now staring at the trashed truck, Mouser gave them a wry smile. “I guess you'll be staying a bit longer than planned. Just tell the headmaster what happened, and he'll sort it all out. I've got to look after my student.”

The driver shook his head, clearly wondering how he'd explain this to his boss. “So does this happen often here?” he asked.

“No idea,” she replied, picking Heather up. “It's our first day and she's our first official student. So we're off to a great start.”