Listen (Muted Trilogy Book 2) (25 page)

BOOK: Listen (Muted Trilogy Book 2)
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“What about two weeks?” she sent, opening her eyes and looking at Jack. “Two weeks, with us helping as much as we can. It sounds like the cure is almost ready, so hopefully, that’s enough time. If it’s not, I think by that point, maybe it’s your turn.” She shifted her gaze to Myles. “You’re not ready now, but things are getting worse. If we haven’t found a way to handle it ourselves within two weeks, can you be our backup?”

Jaw clenched, Myles nodded. “I’ll do everything I can out here and hope to God you get things settled before then. If all else fails, I’ll be ready to go public in two weeks.”

***

“It feels like we’re forgetting something,” sent Jack before they fell asleep, his arm wrapped around Jemma. “I can’t think of anything that we haven’t gone through, I just can’t quite shake the feeling. I think it’s because we’ll be leaving you behind. Are you still awake?”

Head tucked low on her arm, Jemma sent a wave of acknowledgment. “I’m pretty sure we’ve thought through all we can. We looked at the most recent layouts for the buildings, different areas to wait. We have our bags packed, so we’ll have them from when we leave until we get recaptured.” She felt his hand twitch against her side. “I’m not used to being the one who’s calm right before we do something.”

“Well, I’m used to you being amazing, so it doesn’t surprise me anyway.” His silent chuckle sent his warm breath moving against her neck. “I wonder whether we’d ever have figured out the telepathy thing. I mean, this enhanced it, but we spent enough time in the same building. It’s possible we’d have accidentally Talked eventually.”

Memories from before the Event seemed like they belonged to a different person. Jemma had been aware of who Jack was, a regular patron she saw multiple times a week, but she hadn’t even recognized his voice. Would they ever have connected well enough to figure out they could get along, never mind that they shared the ability to communicate telepathically?

“I guess it was an accident when we did finally Talk,” she reminded him, prompting another laugh. “You thought I was a ghost, and I thought I was going insane.”

“Mmm. That’s something that turned out better in reality, on both accounts.”

“Even with all this that’s going on?”

He fell silent. “Well, it’s not like I
like
the whole world-at-risk thing, or not being able to see my dad. But if anyone can get through this, we can, and if we get through this, it was definitely worth it, to be able to meet you, to get to know you like I do.”

“And if we don’t make it?” Her mental voice was almost a whisper.

“If we don’t make it,” he sent after a few seconds, “then I was probably screwed anyway, and I’m grateful for the time I got to spend with you.”

Another minute of quiet passed. “Are you going to be all right?” asked Jemma. “You kept shutting down tonight, earlier.”

She felt him tense against her for a second before he relaxed again with another breath of air against her neck. “Like I said, we’ll get through this. It’s just that in the meantime, I was upset. I don’t like this, you know? Splitting up, not being there to keep each other safe. When I’m upset like that, I know I can’t keep it from showing when I have our connection wide open, so yeah. I was shutting it down.”

“You don’t have to, you know.” She paused. “Sometimes I think you know what I’m feeling before I even know, even without the connection, and I’ve never been that great at reading people. I like that I can feel what you’re feeling. Even if you’re upset.”

After a moment, she felt him widen their connection, letting more of his emotion show. He was hesitant, unsure. His reluctance to separate from Jemma was only marginally outweighed by his trust. Throughout all of this was a strong thread of affection and understanding.

“Thank you,” she sent.

The connection narrowed back to its normal trickle, through which he sent a familiar wave of affection, echoed by the tightening of his arm around her. “Any time.”

***

“You take the phone, too,” sent Jack, handing her that and the cash. “I’ve got the text account on the laptop and can make more of those if I need to.” He looked toward Myles, already sitting in the driver’s seat of one of his cars. He’d pulled a second into the driveway for Jemma, handing her the keys with a brief handshake before leaving them to say their goodbyes in the early morning light. “I still don’t like splitting up.” His lopsided grin told Jemma he wasn’t trying to argue, and she stepped closer to give him a hug. “Drive safely.”

“I will. We’re staying in touch as long as we can, remember? Assume that a dropped connection means the other was taken.”

“Right.” Jack squeezed her a little tighter before pulling back far enough to cup her face. She leaned forward to drop a light kiss on his lips, trying not to get distracted by the resulting surge in emotion, grinning at the surprised smirk he wore when she stepped back. “All right, Myles looks like he’s getting impatient.” Jack hugged her one more time before walking to the car and climbing in the passenger seat. As soon as he’d had time to buckle, they pulled away.

Jemma watched them leave before getting into her own borrowed vehicle. She took a moment to ground herself before starting it, smiling at the simple freedom of being able to drive a car again. She pulled forward and out onto the street, ignoring her destination and instead focusing on the open road ahead and on the comforting presence of Jack’s mental hand in hers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWENTY-SEVEN

Apart

 

Jemma turned up the volume on the radio when she was finally within reception range of her favorite station.

“It feels way more relaxed in your car than it is in ours,” sent Jack.

“Traffic?” she asked. “Or just tense?”

“Just tense. I think our senator feels pretty guilty. He’s barely talking, and every time he does, he manages to include an apology. We’re making pretty good time, though. Should end up there a bit ahead of schedule.”

“That’s good.” Jemma glanced at the mile marker as she passed it. “I’ve got maybe an hour and a half left.”

“You keep enjoying your drive, Jemma.” The wave of emotion he sent with her name turned it into a caress as much as his tone did, and she smiled as he faded into their latent connection. The classical music swelled through the car, keeping her company on the quality speakers, time passing quickly until she pulled in at her destination.

“I’m parking in the back lot at the mall, when you need to pick up your car,” she sent Myles, letting Jack hear, too. “I can walk where I need to from here, and the car shouldn’t be towed, at least not any time soon.”

“I can figure out how to get it back if it is.” Jack was right; the senator sounded guilty. It made sense, she supposed, that a man who had dedicated his life and career to helping would feel guilty about asking others to risk themselves instead. He’d given her his car, though, and was getting Jack to his destination, too, and they knew a good deal more than they had a few days earlier. The slight pressure at the front of her mind, not quite pain but the threat of pain, from just the brief exchange was enough to keep Jemma from trying to reassure him.

That, and the fact she’d still rather he go public now instead of delaying. She wasn’t quite ready to absolve him of guilt entirely when he might’ve been able to prevent their return to captivity.

She ran a hand across her eyes, took the key from the ignition, and paused. “Should I leave the key in the car, or what?”

“That is an excellent point,” sent the senator.

“Is it just one key?” asked Jack.

“A key and a fob,” answered Jemma, fiddling with them as she stood from the car to stretch, looking around the mostly empty back parking lot. The mall was just opening, closed on Sunday mornings.

“Leave the fob in the car,” suggested Jack, “and drop the key in the fountain out front, near the edge. If nobody looks closely, it’ll look like another coin.”

“Sure, that sounds fine,” Myles agreed.

“I’ll do that, then, and figure out where I’m going from here.”

***

Jemma situated herself at one of the center tables in the mall’s cafeteria, fighting the urge to hide or flee. It wasn’t just the current situation she was fighting against, but years of having picked the corner seat, of having avoided crowded rooms when possible.

And the cafeteria was quickly filling up.

Many of the people pouring in were wearing church clothes. A handful wore beach attire, flip flops and cover-ups tossed on to comply with the mall’s shirt-and-shoes policy. She looked up at the security camera above her head, the black dome hanging ominously, then retrieved her stolen laptop, setting it up on the table, spreading out as much as she could. She found a plug in the floor next to the table, small gold cover easy to flip off the opening so she could keep the laptop plugged in.

After letting Jack know she’d gotten situated, she bought herself some lunch, and she checked on news articles for a couple of hours before fishing around in her backpack and bringing out a pair of headphones. She navigated to a site for television shows, keeping one ear uncovered, listening to the background hum of feet shuffling, chairs moving, of telephones and tablets and computers.

Jack kept her updated, letting her know when they finally got close to their destination. He let her know, again, when they got stuck in traffic just inside city limits. She’d started another episode of her show when he finally contacted her to tell her he was at the library.

“That was the longest road trip ever, I’m pretty sure.” She could almost see his wink. “I’m here, though, and I’m setting up. Anything on your end, yet?”

“Nothing.” Jemma looked around. “Nobody has so much as looked at me. It’s like I’m invisible.”

“Maybe we didn’t have to be quite so careful,” sent Jack. “If they don’t try to get us, maybe we meet back up and take a cruise to the Bahamas or something?”

“That’s your first choice of activity?”

“Well, no, but there was a pop-up ad for it, so it was the first thing I thought of. A cruise doesn’t sound half as fun as train hopping, anyway, does it?”

Jemma tried to hide a smile before remembering that she needed to be found, not to hide her ability. She could continue to Talk to Jack without trying to hide their conversation. She glanced up at the camera again before looking back at her paused show. “No. They probably don’t have any oil barrels we can hide behind.”

“Where would the fun in that be?” Their connection dimmed as Jack’s focus returned to whatever he was working on.

Several minutes passed, the mall nearly ready to close for the evening, when Jemma felt a surge of triumphant panic from Jack, followed by a crashing wave of affection.

Followed by silence.

Her mind was empty for the first time in days, though it felt like it had been longer. Jemma covered her mouth, pointless though it was, keeping in silent cries of frustration and anger and worry.

“Jack?” she tried, knowing it was pointless, closing her eyes at the lack of echo, wiping at a damp cheek.

This had been her idea, and he’d been taken first. What if something went wrong? Something could happen to him. Something could happen to either of them, but like she’d pointed out, she thought they needed her, and they thought Jack was a trouble maker. If they hurt him, or worse, it would be her fault. He hadn’t wanted to do this, hadn’t wanted to split up or be recaptured, but he’d agreed to it because it had been her idea.

It had better work.

“Senator Pratt?” she sent, holding her breath at the resulting pain in her head. It couldn’t be this much more severe just because Jack wasn’t around. If their connection had really been giving her that much of a buffer, been protecting her and reducing the impact that significantly, they might have made a serious mistake in splitting up. Maybe without the extra bond she and Jack seemed to have, distance was more of a factor. “He’s gone.”

“I know.” That Myles’s mental voice was almost a whisper seemed to help a little with the pain. “I stayed where I would be able to watch without being seen. I’m sorry.”

“How did they take him? What happened, exactly?” Jemma tried to keep her voice low, as well, her head throbbing with every word.

“He did exactly what he said he was going to. He set up in a public place and did something on the computer. Maybe fifteen minutes later, a couple of men came in wearing suits. They lifted him up, and they must have given him a shot or something. I wasn’t close enough to see. He went limp, and they escorted him out. He was still breathing, I could see that much.”

“Thank you.”

“I have to go. I’m sorry, again.”

Jemma rested her throbbing head on the table until she heard the pre-recorded announcement that the mall would be closing in fifteen minutes. It was time to find another public place, somewhere else she might get caught. She packed up her things, moving slowly to work through the pain, and left, following a trickle of others to the nearest place open.

***

Jemma set up again in the Steak ‘n Shake, once more spreading out as noticeably as she could, getting a table where she’d be visible from the large window or from the entrance. An hour passed before the pain in her skull had faded enough for her to manage the first bite of food she’d ordered, and even then, she had trouble keeping it down at first.

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