"FUCK THIS SHIT!" Carter roared, his voice echoing unheard. He was stranded, alone, and the only clue to his sister's whereabouts had just sped away, leaving him in a cloud of exhaust fumes that had disrupted his hightend senses. The realization that his new, bizarre existence came with such limitations gnawed at him.
He stood in the middle of the deserted highway for a long moment, the green-tinged moonlight casting shadows around him. He clenched his fists, a phantom sensation of pressure in his intangible hands. He had to find Natalie. He would find Natalie.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Carter focused. He needed a new plan. The police van was gone, and he had no way of knowing where it was headed. Thinking back to the gas station, the policewoman's words about the suited figures echoed in his mind. They were the key, he was sure of it. They had taken Natalie, and they had somehow silenced the police.
He started running, pushing himself harder than before, wanting to reunite with his sister fueling his desperate pace. He retraced his steps, back towards the Wallflower Hotel. Maybe there was something there, some clue he had missed in his panic.
Reaching the hotel, he phased through the front doors, the familiar lobby feeling both alien and comforting. He scanned the area, his enhanced senses picking up the lingering scent of the police and a faint trace of Natalie's fear. He moved towards the reception desk, where the gossiping receptionist still stood, oblivious to his presence.
"Hey! Did those men in suits say where they were taking my sister?" he asked, his voice a silent scream in the empty space. He knew she couldn't hear him, but the need to voice his desperation was overwhelming. He watched her laugh at something her coworker said, a wave of rage washing over him.
He moved through the hotel, checking every room on the second floor, the floor they had stayed on. Each empty room was another stab of despair. Natalie was gone, and he felt utterly helpless.
Suddenly, a glint of metal caught his eye. Underneath one of the overturned beds in their old room, a small, silver locket lay half-hidden. Carter recognized it instantly. It was Natalie's, a gift from their mother. A pang of sadness hit him, a sharp ache in his nonexistent chest. She must have dropped it in the chaos.
He tried to pick it up, reaching out his hand, but his fingers passed right through it. Frustration welled up inside him. He was so close, yet so far. He couldn't touch it, couldn't hold onto this small piece of his sister.
Then, an idea sparked in his mind, a desperate gamble. He focused on the water in the pipes running along the wall, the water he could now sense so vividly. He concentrated, trying to manipulate it, to will it to move. It was like trying to grasp smoke, the water resisting his touch once again.
But he didn't give up. He focused all his will, remembering the wave, how it had interacted with him, how he had become one with it, in a way. He tried to replicate that feeling, to become the water, to extend his awareness into it.
Slowly, hesitantly, the water in the nearest pipe began to vibrate. A tiny droplet detached itself and floated in the air. Carter held his breath, concentrating with all his might. The droplet wobbled, then moved slightly in his direction.
It was working! It was slow, incredibly difficult, but it was working.
With painstaking effort, Carter manipulated the droplet towards the locket. It took what felt like an eternity, his concentration wavering, the droplet threatening to fall. Finally, it reached the locket and gently nudged it.
The locket slid slightly across the floorboards. It was a small victory, but it filled Carter with a surge of hope. If he could manipulate water, even in this limited way, maybe he could find other ways to interact with the physical world. Maybe he could even find Natalie.
Exhausted but determined, Carter continued his efforts, slowly, painstakingly pushing the locket out from under the bed. It took what felt like hours, his ethereal muscles aching with the strain of mental exertion. Finally, the locket was free.
He couldn't pick it up, not directly. But he could try something else. Focusing on the water molecules in the air, a much more difficult task, he tried to create a gentle current, a tiny breeze to push the locket. It was even harder than manipulating the water in the pipes, the air resisting his will.
But driven by the image of Natalie, by the desperate need to hold onto this piece of her, he persisted. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the locket began to move, inch by agonizing inch, across the floor towards him.
Carter watched, his non-existent heart pounding with anticipation. It was a small step, a tiny victory in the face of overwhelming odds, but it was proof that he wasn't entirely powerless. He was different, yes, but perhaps this difference could be his strength. He would learn to control this new reality, to bend it to his will, to find Natalie and bring her home. The suited figures, the mysterious forces at play, they wouldn't stop him. He had a locket to guide him, a sister to find, and a new found, strange power beginning to stir within him.