[Ganzfield 2] Adversary (6 page)

“Telepath.”

“No joke?”

“No joke.”

“Zack Greyson.”

“Maddie Dunn.”

“That guy’s your boyfriend?” He meant Trevor.

“Uh huh.”

“Lucky guy.” He smiled.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise and I gave a startled laugh. Flirting? Really? People at Ganzfield didn’t flirt with me. I was a
minder
. The guys who’d been here a while knew better. At least Zack seemed sincere, although I had to question his taste—I probably looked a mess. And his thoughts weren’t overly raunchy—I’d heard enough adolescent guys’ minds to know how bad they could get.

“That’s funny?”

“You’re new.” In a few days he’d look back in horror at this conversation.

He glanced at the clock; it was just after 2 a.m. “My third day here.”

“You on dodecamine yet?”

“The shot? Got it yesterday.”

“Any time now, then.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“They say what they think you are?”

He gave a small laugh. “They think…they think I’m going to be charming…or something.” The term confused him. Why didn’t the Ganzfield people give better information to the new arrivals? Maybe we should make up a pamphlet. I could see it now—
Dick and Jane’s New Superpowers.

See Dick charm. Charm, Dick, charm. See Jane Remote View. View, Jane, view.

“Jedi mind trick.”

“Huh?”

“Star Wars? You know the Jedi mind trick? ‘These aren’t the droids you’re looking for?’”

His confusion turned to excitement. “Seriously? I’m going to be able to do that?”

“Yeah, if you’re a charm.” My voice turned serious. “Don’t hurt anyone with it, though.”

He understood that I’d just given him a warning, but his thoughts twisted in defiance. “Or what? What can they do to me?”

I got seriously annoyed.
The last guy here who used his charming ability to force girls to have sex with him is now dead.
I left out that I’d been the one who’d killed him and I’d done it when he’d made someone shoot at us.

Zack paled. I guess it was the first time someone had spoken inside his head. Suddenly, he was genuinely worried about misusing his ability.

I smiled.
My work here is done.

With excellent timing, I could feel the tide of emotional turmoil roll in as Trevor returned. Wordlessly, he helped me with my coat and boots, taking extra care not to jostle my left leg.

“Nice talking with you, Zack,” I said, as Trevor gathered me up in his arms. “Welcome to Ganzfield.”

Trevor carried me back to the church without speaking. I took the time to fill myself in on the details of his anguish, which swirled through my head like a hurricane of self-recrimination.

He lifted me to my loft and deposited me on the bed. I held onto his hand, pulling him back as he started to leave.
Trevor, please talk to me
.

His face reflected the pain in his mind.
I did this to you, didn’t I?

At that moment, I really, really wanted to lie to Trevor, but I couldn’t. Deceiving him—even to protect his feelings—felt
wrong
. And we were so closely connected, he’d probably be able to tell if I were less than truthful anyway.

My silence answered the question for him and his eyes crumpled shut against the newest wave of guilt, pain, and self-loathing. How could I get him to stop? His anguish was killing me. I couldn’t stand having him in pain—his pain was my pain.

Trevor. TREVOR!
I needed to get through to him. Words weren’t enough. I tried connecting emotionally, on a deeper level. The impact of his feelings made my tears well up.
Please. Please, stop.

Stop?

Stop beating yourself up over an accident. IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. We’re so close…I’m getting swamped with all of this pain and guilt.

His solution was to get far enough away from me that he couldn’t hurt me physically
or
mentally.

Please don’t go!
I felt an unfamiliar frustration. Usually, talking to Trevor was so easy!

I need you
.
I need you to hold me. Please, don’t pull away.

But I hurt you. I…I feel sick about it.

I know. Trevor, it was an accident. I’d forgive you, but there’s nothing to forgive.

I put my hands on his face, pulling his reluctant eyes to mine.
It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m not in pain.
I pulsed my feelings to him, showing him.
See? Pain free.

Trevor pulled me close, burying his face in my hair.
If anything ever happened to you…

I know. I feel the same way about you.
The tension slid from him—and from me—leaving a relief that felt cool and calm.

Then my brain floated up a random comment about how, when Trevor and I had kids someday, labor might be harder on him than on me.

He pulled back, looking me in the eyes. He’d heard that?
Crap
. I hadn’t meant to send that thought to him. It hadn’t been very loud, even in my own mind.

You think about us having kids together?

I bit my lip and nodded.
Eventually. No rush.

The same sense of sureness filled him and I felt my heart expand. We’d only known each other for half a year, but we’d be together forever. We might be young, but he knew I was the love of his life—just as I knew he was the love of mine.

You know I’m going to ask you to marry me someday.

I smiled, feeling like my soul had grown wings.

And you know I’ll say yes. 

CHAPTER 5

“It hasn’t healed quite right.” Matilda’s West African accent became more pronounced when something upset her. Not being able to fix an injury definitely fell into that category.

A quivering ache deep within my leg made me feel unsteady on my feet, like the bone might simply snap beneath me if I put too much weight on it. It was now Monday morning. I’d broken it Saturday night. By Ganzfield standards, I should be back to normal by now. Trevor’s grip on my hand tightened in silent apology.

Matilda examined the break again. She couldn’t pinpoint the damage.

“Don’t worry, Maddie.” Morris smirked. “I can fix my sister’s mistakes.”

Matilda covered her hurt feelings with an outer calm so Morris didn’t realize the sting she felt. His own lack of success deflated his teasing mood, though.

“I’m going to send you for an MRI,” said Matilda. “We have someone at Dartmouth-Hitchcock in Hanover who’ll get you in tonight. She’s a former student of ours. Dr. Williamson wants to send the new charm over for a head CT, as well.”

“Zack?” I’d seen him on my daily check-ups. His thoughts were always light and pleasant when I noticed them. Zack wasn’t in the infirmary at the moment. Apparently, he had gone to one of the smaller houses that served as boys’ dorms to shower and change clothes.

“We’ll send your whole team, anyway. It’s not safe to go out in small groups these days. One more in the van shouldn’t be a problem.”

I wondered what they thought was wrong with Zack. Was he okay? Most of us hadn’t needed CT scans. Trevor had gotten a few, since they were interested in what caused his telekinesis. Was Zack also different in some way?

Yes, he is.
Dr. Williamson’s mind touched mine as he approached the infirmary.
Can’t you tell, Maddie? He’s shielding.

What?
I felt my eyes widen.
But he’s a charm!

A charm who could block minders? That wasn’t good. What was he thinking that I couldn’t hear? What else could he do?

Dr. Williamson handed some cash, a print-out map, and a set of keys to Trevor. “They’re to a house we own near Hanover,” he explained aloud, politely including the others in our conversation. “I thought I’d check in on you before I left this morning.”

“Recruiting or fundraising?” I intentionally spoke aloud—and highlighted that fact to him in my thoughts.
Ta-da!

He acknowledged my efforts with a “humph.” “Fundraising. I need to see if some quarterly results are going to meet forecasts.” I understood what that meant—Dr. Williamson had been training me on the financial stuff. He’d read a few minds at the right companies to get their quarterly results in advance of their public announcement. He’d buy the stocks that were going to beat earnings projections or short the ones that were going to miss them. If the stocks didn’t perform as the experts expected, he’d make hundreds of thousands of dollars—or more.

I was glad Dr. Williamson was focusing on something other than his darker, nearly obsessive thoughts about Isaiah. I felt a pang of annoyance, though—I wanted to try the stock market stuff myself. If my leg had been okay, I could’ve asked to go with him.

A thought occurred to me.
Are YOU safe going out alone?

“Greg will drive. He knows how to take care of himself.” Since Greg was a former Navy SEAL, that was an understatement. “And I can hear them coming. Seth will be in charge here and we’ve beefed up the electronic security on the perimeter wall. Everyone should be okay.”

I nodded. “Have a good trip.”

“You, too.”

*   *   *

We left at 3 p.m. for the two-and-a-half hour drive. Hanover was on the other side of the state, on the Vermont border. Sean gave Rachel a shy kiss goodbye—the first public display of their new status as a couple. Drew stared openly at them, his jaw practically touching his chest. He hadn’t known that his cousin was seeing Rachel, whom he considered a “major hottie” with an “ice queen” personality. The oxymoron inherent in this assessment escaped him. Sean flushed red enough to drown his freckles when he noticed Drew’s reaction.

Personally, I was relieved. One less secret I had to pretend I didn’t know.

About a mile outside the main gate, four men sat in a parked car on the side of the road. I felt a chill creep from my gut when I recognized the people in the grainy grey pictures in their hands.

Drew. Hannah. Rachel. Me.

They appeared to be from the night we’d rescued Trevor, so they must’ve come from the security cameras at Eden Imaging.

“Bad guys,” I said. The entire group startled. “Four of them.” Trevor’s invisible embrace pulled me protectively close. I focused in as I felt them recognize Drew and Rachel up front. My heart thudded against my ribs as they grabbed for weapons and gear. “Crap. They’re arming. They plan to take us out.”

Drew braked suddenly—the tires scraped the asphalt with a squeal. He threw the van into reverse, flinging us along the edge of the road so the van’s bumper nearly kissed the front of the green sedan. No houses in sight—no witnesses—probably why the men had picked this spot for their ambush.

I felt the metal in their hands.
Guns!
I thought at Drew.

“None that will work.” Drew grinned, not looking in my direction. He had them in range and his focus was strong enough to keep them from firing. “Their car won’t start, either.” He’d suppressed the spark plugs, as well.

I smiled.
You read my mind.

He chuckled. This was one of the scenarios we’d trained for over the past months—dealing with a car full of hostiles. Greg and Frank had given us some pointers and we’d developed ways to utilize our abilities in just this situation. I felt a surge of adrenalin, but it wasn’t from fear. We knew how to handle this.

Drew’s got the guns and the car. We need the earpieces out,
I thought to Trevor. “Zack.” I said, suddenly realizing that, with no training, he had no idea he had to do something here.

“’These aren’t the droids you’re looking for?’”

I nodded. At least he was quick on the uptake. “You got it. C’mon.” Trevor opened the sliding side door, and then reached for me.

Any way I can be upright for this?
I thought to Trevor.
I don’t want to look weak.
He placed me on my feet in front of him. His arm wrapped around my waist, steadying me as I balanced on my uninjured leg. His face looked serious, hard and cold—his game face. I adopted a similar visage.

The four watchers pointed guns at us. One tried to fire at us through the windshield. A man in the back opened the car door. Trevor slammed it shut without visibly moving then hit the button for the door locks, sealing them in. The earpieces dropped from their ears one by one, crushed between his invisible fingers.