[Ganzfield 2] Adversary (17 page)

“You can’t shield?” Zack asked. I glanced at him sharply. Something felt off—like his mind held a strange inflection. My eyes squinted in concentration. It was almost as though I could see the spiderweb in his mind, protecting the inner layer of thoughts behind the façade. Trevor’s concern flowed mustard-yellow around me. The others tried to figure out why Zack and I were silently staring each other down across the kitchen table.

His mental shield really wasn’t strong; it was just hard to get a connection in order to focus. I concentrated on a tiny part of his mind and pushed with a sudden, sharp stab. A single, clear thought flared in the dark from behind the shield.

I gasped.
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

Zack knew he was hiding thoughts from me. He’d been testing me for the past few days, thinking things to provoke a reaction, seeing if I heard them, seeing if I responded to them.

And I hadn’t had a clue.

“How long have you known you could do that?” I asked him, forcing a cool calm into my voice that I definitely didn’t feel.

How long has he known he could do what?
Rachel thought.

Hannah’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Couple of days,” he said, with nonchalant smugness. He knew exactly what I was talking about. “Since the infirmary at Ganzfield.”

“Too bad you can’t charm telepaths,” I bluffed. “You’re probably good enough to get close to Isaiah.”

“You don’t think I can?” The words held an ominous tone.

Don’t even try it
, I said into his mind. I was halfway surprised he’d heard it. I didn’t know how well projecting thoughts would work when he was shielding. Would he hear them even if I didn’t really have a good feel for his mind when I sent them?

And if I do?
he asked, silently. I guess receiving projected thoughts wasn’t a problem—and he had no problem framing his own back to me.
What can you do about it?

I gasped.
Ah, hell—
he could even share thoughts while simultaneously shielding. Zack’s ability was definitely strong and he had great control over it.

Could you stop me if I told you to do this?
Zack deliberately imagined me kissing him.

Red energy snarled within me, making me feel strong, too. My jaw clenched and I thought about one of the last threats I’d used against charms who’d tried to intimidate me.
Yes, I could. And if you EVER try to make me do anything like that, I’ll mess with your brain and alter your sex drive. You’ll never want to do that with a girl again.
I stamped each word deliberately into his mind.

Zack laughed aloud, startling the others whose thoughts were growing more confused and more alarmed.
So what? You do that and I’ll just hit on Trevor.
He raised an impudent eyebrow and grinned at me
. That’d teach ya.

I couldn’t help it—I cracked up. The tension broke. We’d sized each other up, like two predators, and created a wary truce.

“So, we need to wait until Isaiah leaves before we go in for Matilda and Morris,” I said, returning to the topic at hand.

“Why?” asked Zack. “We can get in shielded.”

“You and I can, but you can’t hurt him. You probably can’t charm him. I might be able to shield well enough to get close, but neither of us can do anything with locked doors or guns. I’m pretty sure there will be plenty of both.”

“If you can shield yourself, I can make the others shield themselves.” Zack smiled smugly.

“What?” Rachel’s voice filled with wariness. “What would you do to us?”

“I’d charm you into forgetting your abilities, forgetting the plan, so this Isaiah person can’t read your minds and know what you’re up to. I’d give you a false cover memory that’d fool him.”

“So we’d be in there with no idea of who we were or how to defend ourselves or use our abilities?” Sean’s arm tightened protectively around Rachel’s waist. “What’s the point?”

“Trigger words.” The superior smile spread across his face again. “Maddie and I can use trigger words to release your memories. It’s like hypnosis. Did you ever see the movie
Push
?”

“Why? Is it any good?” asked Drew.

Trevor rolled his eyes. “Not really the point right now.”

“It’s like wiping our memories.” said Rachel, coldly. “No. You’re not going to mess with our heads and risk our lives based on something you saw in a movie.”

Borrowed nausea twisted in my gut, mixing with my own. No way I’d trust Zack to do this to Trevor and the others.

“Wouldn’t he sense there were strangers there?” asked Hannah. “How would shielding give us an advantage?”

“Look, that’s not going to be necessary. If Rachel can track Isaiah, we can go in as soon as he leaves the place.” I wanted to put a stop to this idea once and for all.

“What if he doesn’t leave?” Sean challenged.

“I know we have to get the healers out, but that doesn’t solve the bigger problem. We have this powerful guy trying to kill us. He’s kinda like the Lex Luthor for G-positives. We need to take out Isaiah permanently.” Drew had a point.

“I think I’ll have to kill him,” I said, quietly. Six pairs of eyes bored into me. “I may be the only one who can.”

Trevor’s cold horror leeched into my soul
. I don’t want Maddie to become an assassin. It’s wrong for so many reasons. She’ll put herself in danger. Dr. Williamson’s been trying to train her for this, to use her ability this way. She could be killed!

Isaiah ordered the murder of everyone at Ganzfield.
I met his eyes, silently pleading for him to understand
. He almost had you killed. I don’t think any of us are safe as long as he’s alive.

But YOU won’t be safe if you’re anywhere near him!
Trevor knew enough about my training with Dr. Williamson to fill him with fear. He switched tactics.
And what if we’re wrong? What if he’s not the one responsible?
It would be murder.

The sick feeling in his gut spread to mine.

If I get the chance, I’ll ask him before I kill him
.

You’re serious about doing this?

I don’t think we have a choice
.
But hopefully I won’t be up against him now—or anytime soon. I’m not ready
. The blood seemed to congeal in my heart as I remembered the power I’d sensed in the brief contact with his mind.
I know I’m not ready. Not by a long shot.

*   *   *

I went up to my room to call Nick Coleman. Not that it was much quieter for me; the mental voices from downstairs continued as the others considered the best way to get into the Peapack place.

“Jon’s being held by Homeland Security,” Coleman said. “The feds think he’s a domestic terrorist—that he’s been running some sort of militia training camp up at Ganzfield. They got a tip from an anonymous source.”

“Can you get him out?”

“Working on it. They take their time sorting out this sort of thing. They don’t want to risk releasing someone who later blows up a building. But I should know more by the end of the day. I’ll give you a call, all right?”

“Quick question: do you know anything about Isaiah and a place out here in Peapack, New Jersey?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Funny you should mention it. A large group of the Sons of Adam people are headed out there on Saturday.”

Two days from now. “Who’s your source?”

Another pause. “I left standing orders with a local member of the Sons of Adam. I…had a
few words
with him more than a year ago. Now he calls me when they’re planning something.” I understood that those “few words” must’ve been given with charm resonance.

Plan B began to form in my mind. “Can you give us some of the names of the people going out there?”

“Maddie, what are you going to do?” Concern tinted his voice.

I wished I didn’t have to speak aloud, but telepathy didn’t work over the phone. “He’s holding two Ganzfield people out there. We want them back.”

“As your attorney, I have to warn you not to do anything illegal.” His caution made me wonder if his phone might be tapped. Did Homeland Security know about his connection to Dr. Williamson?

Also, since when did I have an attorney? My life had gotten so weird recently.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied, too sweetly. “I simply thought Zack might have a quick word with some of them.”

Coleman gave a quick laugh of understanding. “Would Zack be a particularly charming individual?”

“Some people find him charming.” I mimicked Coleman’s indirect way of speaking.
What if the phones really were tapped?
“Personally, I don’t see it.”

He chuckled. “I guess you wouldn’t. I’ll see if I can get you those names and call you later.” He hung up.

I went downstairs to the kitchen. “New info.”

“About Williamson or Isaiah?” Drew was getting into this.

“Both.”

“Shoot.”

I filled them in on Dr. Williamson’s situation and the gathering on Saturday at Peapack. “So, I’m thinking Zack charms one of the Sons of Adam people to bring us in on Saturday. Even if Isaiah’s on-site, a lot of other people will be there, too. For telepaths, other people’s thoughts blend together when there’s a crowd. It’s like people all talking at once. So long as we’re not mentally screaming our intentions and we don’t get too close to him, we could pop a few locks, charm a few guards, and get Matilda and Morris out. If he’s busy with this gathering, it could be hours before he even notices they’re gone.”

Nice.

Better than having Zack mess with our heads.

So long as no one gets killed.

I grinned. It looked like we had a plan. I felt some of the anxiety lift from my chest. We knew what to do and when to do it. We would get the healers out; they would be okay and—

Oh, my God in Heaven.

I don’t know if I broadcast my shock to anyone other than Trevor or not. Perhaps they simply reacted to the simultaneous gasps of horror that Rachel and I emitted. I felt like I might retch. While we’d been talking, Rachel had RVed Morris and Matilda.

Morris’s right hand was in pieces. Someone had cut off his fingers.

Cut. Off. His. Fingers. Of all the sick—

His face was ashen grey and he grimaced in pain. I could see Matilda trying to reattach one of the severed digits. The other fingers sat obscenely in a drinking glass filled with bloody ice. Trevor gave a sharp intake of breath; apparently I was leaking the images to him.

“I think they’ve been torturing Morris.” My voice trembled as I spoke. Dark-yellow guilt filled my mind with a too-warm pressure. If only I’d been strong enough to take on Isaiah! We could’ve gotten them out before their captors did something so monstrous. “They cut off some of his fingers. They’re right next to him…” I swallowed hard, trying to get the taste of bile out of my throat, “…in a glass of ice.”

“They’re letting Matilda heal him.” Controlled anger ran like liquid steel through Rachel’s veins.

“Why?” asked Zack.

“Healers can’t heal themselves,” Hannah explained. “We can’t focus the energy into our own bodies properly.” Okay, good to know, but that wasn’t Zack’s point.

“No, I mean why’re they letting Matilda help him?”

No one spoke for a moment. In Rachel’s vision, I saw Morris wiggle the newly reattached finger, testing it. Matilda fished another out of the bloody ice, checking it against the remaining stumps—probably making sure she didn’t attach it in the wrong place. A fresh tear slid down one of the wet tracks that lined her face.

“She loves her brother,” Trevor said.

I saw what he meant. “They might’ve forced her to do some healing on Isaiah and used Morris as the bargaining chip.”

“If she did it, they’d let her reattach his fingers.” Hannah finally understood.

“If she didn’t, they’d keep cutting pieces off,” said Drew.

It made sense. It was completely evil, but effective. “Why are they still alive?”

Hannah looked at me as though I’d suggested they both ought to be killed
. Ah, hell.
She really didn’t think I had much respect for the sanctity of life, did she? “No, I mean, why is Isaiah keeping them alive? What does he need them for?”

Confused faces looked at me. “If Isaiah forced Matilda to heal him—and we don’t know that’s the case—now that she’s done it, what else would he want them to do?”

No one had an answer. In Rachel’s vision, Matilda began to reattach another of Morris’s fingers.