Wild-born by Adrian Howell

even I can’t sense you unless I’m really close. But as long as you’re not psionically hidden, I can locate you from quite a distance away. That’s how I found you and... well, you’ll see. It wasn’t easy, though, finding you. The city has so much metal in it. It’s hard to focus a search.”
    I tried not to let the hopefulness show on my face as I asked her, “Can you find anyone? I mean, can you find my sister?”
    “Oh...” she said uneasily. “I’m sorry, Adrian, but finders can only sense psionics. I can’t locate people who don’t have powers.”
    “I see.”
    “I’m really sorry.”
    Disappointed, I looked down at my knees, but then Cindy said, “Listen, I have some contacts in the police. As soon as we get to my house, I’ll call in a favor and see if we can’t find your Cat, okay?”
    “That’d be great. Thanks, Cindy.”
    “Can’t promise anything, you know. Hopefully, she’ll be with your uncle by now, like you said.”
    “Yeah,” I said, stifling a yawn.
    Cindy looked at me. “You’ve had a rough week. Try to get some sleep, little destroyer.”
    “I’m not little,” I said in an annoyed tone, partly because I was, in fact, small for my age, but mainly because I remembered that Ralph had once called me “little destroyer” too.
    “Sorry,” said Cindy. “But how old are you, anyway? Ten? Eleven?”
    “I’ll be thirteen in three weeks.”
    “Oh. Sorry again, Mr. Howell.”
    “Just call me Adrian, please.”
    “You don’t have a nickname or anything?”
    “No,” I replied dryly, “I don’t.”
    “Well, then Adrian it is, I guess.”
    I yawned again. Tilting back my seat, I turned onto my side as best as I could. It wasn’t the most comfortable way to sleep, but it certainly beat a concrete roof. And Cindy was right: It had been a rough week. A rough month, really.
    I dreamt I was flying madly through the night air while being chased by squadrons of giant helicopters. Then I saw Cat’s terrified face as she was lifted into the air by the wind. I tried to follow, but the wind was too strong, and I was pushed backwards into a dark tunnel filled with screaming voices. I could hear Ralph laughing as he said over and over, “I’m your friend, Addy-baby. You can trust me. You can trust old Ralph.”
    I woke with a start. It was still dark, and the car was still moving. As I closed my eyes again, I fell into a deeper sleep. If I had any other dreams or nightmares, I couldn’t remember them the next morning.
    The early-dawn light felt cold on my face as I yawned and shook myself awake. Still driving, Cindy looked over at me and smiled.
    “Good morning, Addy,” she said pleasantly.
    I stared at her. “Did you just call me...”
    “So that is your nickname, yes?”
    “How did you...”
    “You talk in your sleep.” Cindy winked. “Addy-baby.”
    I groaned. “Please don’t call me that.”
    “Yeah, I think you said that in your sleep, too,” she said, grinning.
    “Well, no doubt I meant it in my sleep, too,” I said grumpily.
    “Okay, if you insist. I just thought it was kind of cute.”
    “So, I talk in my sleep?” I asked, desperate for a change of topic.
    “That’s just the tip of the iceberg,” replied Cindy. “Good thing your seatbelt was on. You started to levitate out of your seat. It’s amazing you never drifted over the edge of those buildings you were sleeping on.”
    Actually, I nearly had, once. This sleep-hovering was getting a bit worrisome.
    I rolled down my door window and felt the chilly but refreshing wind on my face. I remembered having woken up once in the car and wondered if Cindy had stopped at all during the night.
    “Aren’t you tired, Cindy?” I asked, resting my elbow on the open window.
    “Why, yes I am, actually,” she replied. “But remember I said I don’t have much time?”
    “Oh yeah... What did you mean by that?”
    “Well, I’m hiding my house. Actually, I’m hiding my whole neighborhood, and that’s a lot