Out of Touch (10 page)

This had to be crazy talk, didn’t it? But the day she and Ashley shared their loneliness by the river hung like a heavy blanket on her shoulders. Would Ashley have reported her if she’d found out alone? Sarah reconsidered, as uncertain as the tin man trying to analyze the scarecrow. “I’m sure you’re trying to help me, Ashley. But what could I do anyway?”

“You can run. You never had a GPS implant, did you?”

“No.”

“I knew you wouldn’t. Your car has one though, and if you take it offline, they’ll notice fast. You still have a fold up bike in the trunk?”

“Always.”

“GPS or not that expensive?”

“No GPS.”

“Well, if you took off on it now, you’d have a good head start. But if you need to see for yourself, then stash the bike by the bridge up here. They’ll have to drive that way to take you in. When they stop at the stop sign, make a run for it. Can telekinesis stop bullets? Well, I don’t think they’ll shoot at you.”

Sarah felt herself numb with the extreme calm that protected her in times of crisis. But this couldn’t be a real crisis, could it?

“What part of the government are you talking about? How many people know?”

“The ones who will collect you come from CDC Special Investigations. They’re all telepaths. They can detain you or disappear you as if you carried some new disease. Beyond that, there are definitely other agencies involved. My mom’s done some pretty serious spy stuff. But I don’t deal with them. I’ve been asked to check for teeps in mental ward, but I didn’t try very hard, and I don’t behave like a drone. So mostly, they leave me out of it.”

“But what’s the government’s goal in all this?”

Ashley rolled her eyes, not just once, but twice, “They’re control freaks with delusions of grandeur. They’re politicians.”

By the stop sign before the bridge, Sarah knew she’d made a decision. There was no one around. “I’ll hide the bike. Wait here.”

Without turning off the engine, Sarah went to the trunk and pulled out the folded bike. If Ashley wasn’t crazy, this would be an ideal place to make an escape. There was a bike trail along the creek that passed under the road here. Sarah scrambled down and just around the next bend, then hid her bike in some bushes. There was a non-zero chance it would be stolen in the next few hours, but she would have given it to Ashley if asked. So it seemed fair to risk it on the chance Ashley’s warning was true. Quickly Sarah hopped back in the car. If anyone were tracking her car by GPS now, that stop would only have been a little too long. She drove onward toward the ice cream store.

“So my mom wasn’t telepathic?”

“No, you know she wasn’t really grandpa’s child?”

Sarah had never been sure about that rumor, but she nodded. “Everyone else was? And she never knew?” Sarah asked.

“Your mother was curiously kind to me after they started saying I was crazy. I always wondered what she knew or maybe suspected. Maybe she was telekinetic like you and kept it hidden. Who can guess in a family like this?”

“Is anyone else telekinetic?”

“Not openly. CDC thought it very rare and only found in telepaths. They’ll find you interesting.”

Sarah didn’t want to be found interesting. Like gum stuck under a table, she didn’t want to be found at all, and she was starting to believe everything Ashley said. It all seemed to fit, but she wasn’t sure enough to run away. If nothing else, she couldn’t abandon the Chens. And she couldn’t give up her whole life without some kind of proof.

“Ashley, if I escape on my bike, how hard will they look for me?”

“I don’t know. You’d certainly have to hide. They work with intelligence, so they’d probably check your home, work, car. I don’t know. They might question your friends or bug their phones. They use my family as spies. You know all of us and you have telekinesis. I think you’d need to leave the country and hide pretty damn well.”

Sarah pulled into a parking space. “Can you get the ice cream? I want to run an errand.”

As Ashley walked with self-possession and apparent sanity into Chris’s Crystal Cream, Sarah headed down the street to the local branch of her bank. She almost called back to her cousin to get some butter pecan, but decided Ashley deserved to choose the flavors today.

             
As they pulled back into Aunt Jane’s driveway, Sarah saw two black cars parked behind Rob’s VW and her aunt’s rebuilt Bentley-hybrid. The black cars screamed government conspiracy, and Sarah had to swallow a laugh. She parked to the side and began to think about covering for Ashley.

             
Then, as they followed the slick flagstones through Aunt Jane’s garden, a burst of sunlight cut through the clouds. Ashley threw her head back, breathed deeply and closed her eyes. For one moment Sarah remembered being a child here, steeping in the beauty of this place, and not questioning if she belonged.

             
Then Ashley opened the front door and shuffled through to the kitchen clutching the ice cream. Sarah drifted through behind her and didn’t have to fake her moment of shock as she fell back into reality.

             
“Please, have a seat,” said a smiling blond man with slight shoulders and a polyester suit. Sarah sank onto a chest near the Chen’s, reflecting their concerned looks with a glance.

             
“Name is Matt Watkins. This is Jack Cahane. We’re here to welcome you to the American teep community.” Watkins shifted his weight as he talked, looking restless and excited as he flashed a poster child smile. Cahane stood inert and serious to one side, not acknowledging Watkins, who continued to speak with a slight southern twang.

             
“Got a couple things to tell you, first the serious stuff so we can end on a high note. You all are what’s known as ‘born classified.’ Knowing about telepathy or telekinesis is just like knowing about advanced cryptography or prionic enhancers. Divulging what you know to uncleared persons is a federal crime. Furthermore, anyone cleared at this level is considered at risk for abduction, and needs to be GPS trackable at all times. That’s it for the serious stuff.” He winked.

             
“Good news is, you’re now entitled to the best medical care the US can offer, best in the world. I’d urge you to take full advantage of that, since our specialists know about some teep-specific conditions you wouldn’t want treated by any other doctor. We can also fix you up with employment opportunities most folks only dream about and offer you access to a community of, um, like-minded individuals.”

             
Cahane spoke then, playing the shadowy bad cop to Watkins good cop. “For now you’re all in protective custody and will be accompanying us to the city to complete some very important documents. That’s a legal order and disobeying it would be a felony.”

             
With that they were escorted out to the two black cars. Aunt Jane and Ashley were nowhere to be seen. Mei Mei, Lisa, and Robert ended up in the car with Cahane. Sarah had found no way to communicate with them before they were bundled away.

She wasn’t sure she liked being in the car with Watkins, who smiled as he held the door for her, but she was glad Cahane’s car took the lead. So far, she’d pretended to go willingly, not wanting to lose her chance for escape. Howard slouched beside her in the back seat. She tried to think of the best way to help him escape, at least. She’d already figured how to control the door locks from the driver’s panel, just in case they were using the child lock feature on the back doors. If they had some special security or way of blocking telekinesis, Sarah didn’t know what she would do.

As they came to a stop before the bridge, Sarah released the locks, opened both back doors and seatbelts, then broke the front door and window controls.

“Last chance to escape!” she yelled to Howard as she ran out her own door and scrambled toward the creek. Dirt and pebbles slid under her feet. She grabbed a bush to steady her fast turn and sprinted down the bike trail. One last glance over her shoulder showed Howard sitting there stunned. Oh well, if the guy could turn a parked car with a thought, he could arrange his own escape.

Watkins, on the other hand, could use some help. He was trying to squirm over the front seat to get to the open back doors while talking furiously into his cell phone. Sarah imagined it as a TV ad for wrinkle-free suits, “The wardrobe that keeps you looking good, even when your day turns bad.”

Then she carefully crushed his cell phone, but left the rear doors open out of fairness to Watkins and in case Howard ever got around to escaping.

Around the corner and out of sight, Sarah pulled out her own cell phone. Losing all her stored info. sucked, but there was no time, and it had trackable GPS even when turned off. She mentally crushed it, then threw it into the creek. A stab of grief surprised her but was followed instantly by a rush of freedom. She was cut off from everyone, unprotected, unencumbered. And no one could call while she was using the bathroom or listening to her favorite song. Time to put her plan, such as it was, into action.

There was a way to reach 333 3rd street without taking more than a couple major roads. Sarah fastened her bike helmet, hoping that would make her less identifiable, if anyone was looking. She sped off down the bike trail. Was she being too paranoid? Ashley had warned her that the government was sending people and that they’d drive her across this bridge on their way in for processing. If Ashley thought further government pursuit and surveillance was likely, Sarah didn’t plan to take any chances.

Biking all out, it took less than fifteen minutes to reach O’Reeley’s door. He answered at her first knock, with a spryness that belied his age and recent injuries.

“Sarah?”

“You recognize me?”

“There was a picture with the police file.”

“Oh. Sorry. Can I come in?”

“Certainly. Can I get you something to drink?”

The front door opened directly into a worn but clean living room. An overstuffed easy chair faced a boxy old TV with a doily and a box of tissues on top. Somehow, the room smelled like tobacco without smelling of smoke. There was a tinge of vanilla and cloves. The carpet looked worn to threads, especially near the door.

“No. Sorry, I’m in trouble. I need to ask a big favor of you. I need a car without GPS. I need it now, and I’m not really sure if you’ll get it back. I brought the pink slip for my car.” She knew she wasn’t supposed to keep it in her glove compartment, but after collecting her money from the bank, she’d been glad it was there for the taking. “It’s a 2018 Honda with GPS and all sorts of safety features. I’m going to sign it over to you and give you my aunt’s address and phone number. The car’s at her house. If you’d just wait a few days before you contact her, I think there’ll be no problem.  I’ll give you a number for Eva, too. She’s the executor for my Mom’s will. If there’s any fuss about the car, maybe she can reimburse you out of the estate.”

Sarah scribbled a quick note to Eva, another old woman with too many cats. O’Reeley stood by silently, not asking any questions. The wrinkles by his mouth curved with habitual amusement, but he didn’t smile or joke. Sarah felt herself shiver with adrenaline, but forced herself to finish writing.

“Are you okay with this?” she asked. Looking at the calm of O’Reeley’s lined face, she wondered if he wasn’t a little bit cracked.

“I gladly give you my car.  In good time I will contact these people and try to assure that all is taken care of. I wish you luck.”

             
Sarah didn’t know what to make of the old guy, but she was in too much of a hurry to worry about it. He handed her keys. She thanked him, put her bike in the trunk of his new old car, and said goodbye.

              Three hours later, Sarah reached Sacramento. She’d gone south to 580, then over and up, hoping to avoid anyone who might be looking for her. She’d found an old flannel shirt and an English cap in the back seat of the car. Like a kid playing dress up she’d donned her disguise while driving. The clothes smelled like O’Reeley’s living room, and Sarah fount the scent soothed her as she drove. Now she left the shirt and cap with the car in a parking lot by a coffee shop. She pulled her bike and helmet from the trunk and pedaled the last couple blocks to the gym.

             
The parking lot was empty. The gym was closed on Sunday, but it had an old key and bolt lock. Sarah enjoyed opening it telekinetically. In the sixteen years she’d been coming to this gym, she’d never thought of using her ability to break in. Until today she’d most often thought of herself as just Sarah, a gymnast, a gym coach, a group home counselor, an anthropology major, a disappointment to her mother.

             
Today, she was first and foremost a teek. Her own government was chasing her. She didn’t dare go back to her Mom’s house or to Reggie’s place. It could be dangerous to contact anyone she knew. She was ready to head out into the world with almost nothing, just so she could use her abilities as she saw fit, ready to give up her home, her jobs, her friends, and her first real love. Perhaps it was stupid, but it sure felt right. Or noble. Sarah felt noble.

             
She gazed out into the dimness of the gym. She imagined herself on the floor exercise mat the day she first came to this building. She’d stood with her hair braided into two little loops and done the routine Nadia had won the Olympics with decades before. By then it was just enough to get a nine-year-old onto the best gymnastics team in the state. At nine, Sarah had been sure she could win a gold medal like Nadia or Carly Patterson. By the time she was twelve, her mother still believed it, but Sarah had doubts. As the 2016 Olympics approached, Sarah was the best in the nation on bars, but she failed to make the US team. Her Mom thought she could try again in 2020. But Sarah thought she’d be too old, and anyway, she’d decided to become a doctor.