[Ganzfield 2] Adversary (7 page)

BOOK: [Ganzfield 2] Adversary
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I worked to keep the smile off my face as we approached the front passenger window. Trevor hit the button to lower the glass. One of the men screamed. Two others tried to fire their guns at us, but they only clicked impotently.

The driver scrambled with the handle of the locked door. When he realized it wouldn’t open, he tried to start the car. The front passenger threw his gun at us. It bounced off the invisible shield Trevor held in place and fell back into the car. Their fear and anger screamed louder than their voices.

—I don’t want to die. Please, God help us—

—the monsters have us trapped—

—at least want to take some of them with me—

—kill them all! Not human, don’t deserve to live—

“Tell them to be quiet and sit still,“ I said to Zack. Would my mental voice work when he shielded? Now wasn’t the time to find out. He’d heard it the first night in the infirmary, but the dodecamine had kicked in since then.

At that moment, I really missed Grace. She’d have enjoyed intimidating a car full of hostiles. There was something within me—like a twisted feminism—that reveled in the image of a short, Eurasian woman from New York City cowing a bunch of dangerous men out in the middle of the woods. Was it wrong to be actually enjoying this a little? After all, they’d threatened us first—and they wanted to kill us. We just wanted them to go away and leave us alone.

Still, what we were doing wasn’t…
nice
.

“Be quiet and sit still.” Charm resonance permeated Zack’s words. The four men slumped into instant, silent obedience, although their panicked minds still shrieked into mine.

I scanned through them. The front passenger was in charge: Gordon. “Who do you work for?” He remained silent, out of obstinacy and fear.

It didn’t matter—I got the information from his mind.
Sons of Adam—the guardians of True Humanity.

I asked several questions about their organization—how they contacted each other, what their plan was. We now had names, addresses, and other information. I mentally relayed these to Hannah in the van so she could write them down.

Gordon remained stubbornly silent. He actually thought he was being strong—that he was resisting me. He thought I was a charm. These guys really didn’t know much—basically just foot soldiers. Most of the information they had concerned neutralizing our abilities.

How to kill us
.

Crap
. They knew about Trevor. Their only defense against him was keeping their distance…or shooting him. They didn’t know he could stop bullets. Gordon and his crew were prepared for sparks and charms, though. But they didn’t seem to know about telepaths.

Strange.

Were the Sons of Adam working with Isaiah? It was a good bet. How else would they have images from Eden Imaging security cameras?

“Where did the pictures of us come from?” I asked.

Gordon didn’t know.

Were we targets because I’d killed Michael and Dr. Hanson? I’d overloaded their minds with massive strokes. Did that mean Isaiah didn’t know which of us had that ability? Was he interested because it was like his own?

Isaiah.
Oh.
That’s why there was no information about how to neutralize telepaths. Isaiah wouldn’t have told these people anything about his own ability. In fact, he might’ve downplayed or even denied the existence of telepathy in order to avoid detection. And these men had hoped to kill us from a distance. They hadn’t counted on us reacting before they could come up behind our vehicle, shoot out a tire, and then slaughter us as we got out to assess the damage. Their ignorance of telepathy had been their weak link.

Hate and fear boiled within them. They honestly believed we were monsters—too dangerous and evil to be allowed to live. To them, we were like vampires—creatures of destruction masquerading in human form.

I felt my brow furrow and bit my lip then shot a thought to the team.
What does everyone think? Should we wipe their memories or should we let them think they killed us?

Let them think we’re dead,
thought Drew.

Let’s program them to open fire at the next Sons of Adam meeting
, Rachel thought.

My gut heaved.
Too much.
I caught her reflection in the side-view mirror and shook my head.
I only kill people in self-defense.

This would be self-defense,
Rachel thought back to me. Her eyes were fierce.
Get them before they get us.
A memory of Uncle Charlie flashed through her mind.

Why don’t we just wipe any traces of their contact with us from their minds?
asked Hannah.
That way, no one gets hurt.

If they think we’re dead, they won’t target us anymore,
Trevor thought.

I couldn’t read an opinion from Zack. Dr. Williamson was right—he shielded his thoughts pretty cleanly. The consensus of the rest of the group seemed to be faking our deaths. It appealed to me for its efficacy and its symmetry—Isaiah had, after all, faked his own death years ago. He didn’t have an RV to track us down. How long would we be off his radar? I held back my smile.

This could totally work.

“Zack, tell them to remember how they followed our van, shot out the tires, and then picked us all off from a safe distance as we tried to run into the woods.” He relayed this to the men in his charm-voice. “They loaded our bodies into the van, and then drove it down a hunter’s trail and left it. All the people they were looking for—all their targets—were in the van. Once they’ve reported this, they’ll feel sick about the killing. They’ll leave the Sons of Adam and forget they ever knew anything about it or us.”

“Anything else?”

“Tell them to teach their kids tolerance,” I added, impulsively.

Trevor cracked a tiny smile.
Nice one.

“You heard the lady—teach your kids tolerance. Respect for diversity, that sort of thing.”

It almost felt like we’d made the world a better place. Camaraderie filled the van as we drove off, tainted with a hint of smugness.

I twisted around in my seat to face Zack. “You did well for your first time out.” If I could read him, I’d ask him to be our team’s new charm. For a newbie, he was a natural.

He grinned back. “Thanks.” A little thought seeped out from behind his shield. He liked being on the winning team—and on my team.

 

*   *   *

 

I flitted from one mental contact to another for about a half-hour before I accepted that we weren’t being followed. I pulled my focus back into the van.

Slanting afternoon light flashed into Drew’s eyes between the leafless trees as he drove, lessening his enthusiasm for the experience.
Why is everyone getting into couples all of a sudden? First Trevor and Maddie. Now Sean and Rachel.
His new awareness of Sean and Rachel’s status had sent him into a soul-searching mood. Since he was a person with more width than depth of character, this didn’t take long.
I’m pretty much the same kind of guy as Sean. Guess that means I’ll be able to date hot blondes, too. Cool!

Rachel rode shotgun again, her normal spot as our human GPS, although her ability wasn’t necessary on this trip. She was pretty good at warning us of speed traps, though, since she could RV any police cars on the road ahead of us well before I’d hear their minds. The giddy, warm glow of new love filled her thoughts, along with flashes of annoyance at my clumsiness.
If Maddie hadn’t broken her leg, I wouldn’t have to be away from Sean. I don’t see why I had to come along.

I leaned against Trevor’s shoulder and watched the ocean of trees roll by in the fading afternoon light. I’d been off my leg for nearly three days now and I still hadn’t used crutches—not that a place with G-positive healers had a pair lying around. I didn’t want to be a burden, but Trevor viewed carrying me as a form of penance.

Behind us, Zack tried to start a conversation with Hannah. They quickly ran out of things to say. Hannah’s thoughts focused on the upcoming tests. Now that I knew what to look for, Zack’s thoughts seemed strangely empty. I didn’t detect the block, only the absence of thought that should’ve been there. He shielded as well as Dr. Williamson did and it made me uncomfortable.
Jealous.
I’d been trying for months to do what Zack was doing, yet he seemed to be able to do it effortlessly.

We went through a fast-food drive-thru near Hanover for an early dinner, although the early dusk made it feel later. Trevor took a turn at the wheel while Drew ate—it was easier for Trevor to eat and drive with his extra set of hands. I scanned quickly for Sons of Adam people as we pulled up at Dartmouth-Hitchcock, a sprawling medical complex south of town.

I felt my shoulders relax. No one wanted to kill us here.

What a nice change.

The medical center’s parking lot held only a few lonely vehicles among the enormous piles of plowed snow at the end of each row. People didn’t spend the night in this part of the medical center. Good thing. I suddenly realized that if I went into a regular hospital, I’d feel the pain of every sick and injured person within my range.

Yeah, I wasn’t going to be doing that.

Heather McFee, M.D. had the standard-issue McFee red hair and freckles, as well as a subversive streak that she hid from the G-negatives in her daily life. A rare smile lit Hannah’s face. She didn’t meet other healers often, and Matilda and Morris both spoke highly of this particular former student. Drew greeted his cousin Heather with a hug.

We trooped through the darkened corridors of the medical imaging building. Trevor carried me in his arms as if looking for a threshold to cross. The rest followed along behind us. Our echoing footsteps and the swishing of our clothing seemed to invade the silence.

I considered Heather as she led the way. How did she end up as a healer instead of a spark? I wondered, not for the first time, at the sheer number of McFee G-positives. There were so many of them! How did a recessive trait like the G-positive genotype end up being expressed so frequently in one family? Was it from some kind of...of inbreeding?

Ick
.

Zack had to wait a few minutes after drinking a can of milkshake-like, radioactive goo before doing his test so we did mine first. My MRI showed a lesion within the bone marrow of my newly-mended leg. Did that mean that Matilda and Morris’s diagnostic abilities were imperfect through solid bone?

Hannah studied the images for several minutes, frowning in concentration. “I think I can get it. Now that I know what I’m looking for, I think I can get it through the bone.”

I gestured to my leg. “Go for it.”

Hannah said a quick, silent prayer then laid her hands on my calf. I had a sudden, possibly blasphemous thought—could Jesus have been a G-positive healer? It wouldn’t endear me to Hannah to share this insight. She loved her ability and she did feel a connection to Jesus as a result of it, but the relationship was one of emulation, not of equivalence. It would deeply offend her if I offered a non-divine explanation for such a central part of her beliefs, so I kept my thoughts to myself as the pins-and-needles sensation sank deep within my leg. An aching pain grew in intensity and then gradually subsided, leaving the area tingling and hot.

I stood up tentatively, testing it out. “Pretty sure you got it. Thanks.” My leg felt strong again—back to normal. I turned to Trevor and grinned.
Now I need to find a different reason to get you to carry me around everywhere.

You know I will
. He smiled back into my eyes.
Any excuse to hold you in my arms.
I felt his relief as the guilt that’d twisted within him lightened. Good—I hated being the cause of those feelings. The emotions between us seemed to get caught in feedback loops so often these days. Now that he no longer felt guilty, the positive cycle started. Silver light flickered playfully between us.

Hannah cleared her throat loudly. The intensity between Trevor and me made something within her squirm. “Maddie, I need you to help with one of Zack’s scans.”

I reluctantly pulled myself out of the sensual cocoon Trevor and I were beginning to weave. “What do you need me to do?”

She hesitated, and then framed a thought.
I need you to try to read Zack so we can see what he’s doing when he blocks minders.

Her seriousness sobered me.
This needs to be kept quiet?

Hannah nodded.

“Say when.”

Trevor looked at me curiously, but didn’t ask directly.

We went down the hall to the machine that did a combination CT and PET scan. From studying neurology as part of my minder training, I knew that the CT showed the structures of the brain, including the changes in the basal ganglion that all G-positives experienced when exposed to dodecamine. The PET scan showed activity within the specific parts because the radioactive dye followed the blood flow. More blood flowed to active regions and to newly developed cells, so the images lit up more brightly in those areas.

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