Outview (11 page)

“Wow!” Linh said.

“Strange dude,” Kyle said, “but not a
floating tree.”

“I don’t know,” I said softly.

Kyle rolled his eyes.

We had started to build the fire when I
spotted a huge bull with gray horns. “Look at that bull coming at us!”

“Where?” Linh shrieked in alarm.

Kyle scanned the trees casually. “It’s not
real, is it?” He held out his arms and lowered them, looking from side to side.
“Let’s not attract attention.”

He was right; it was gone. “It’s just the
roots of that fallen tree,” I said, pointing. “That’s how the shapeshifting
happens.” Two raccoons appeared from behind it. “Do you guys see those?” I
asked quietly.

“Yeah, but they’re not flying or anything,”
Kyle joked. “Ever hear about the boy who cried wolf?”

“I know. I’m a mess,” I said, looking at
the ground feeling sorry for myself.

“Don’t worry.” Linh hugged me. “I’m good at
cleaning up messes.”

Dinner was around the campfire, eating more
great food from the Station.

“I just don’t understand how the Old Man
disappeared, how he wasn’t in the photo. None of it makes sense,” Linh said.

“A taste of what I deal with daily,” I said,
adding wood to the fire. It was getting cold and dark. Stars glittered.

Kyle heated up some water and squeezed in a
couple of lemons. “To best friends and the hope that our journey is good,” he
said. We all touched metal cups. “And now, you meditate.” He pointed at me. Kyle
and I went off to find spots. Linh stayed by the fire, writing in her journal.
I found a friendly feeling fir and sat on its bed of needles, cleared my mind
fairly easily, and was still for half an hour. The moment I came out of my
meditation, Linh looked up from her journal and smiled at me.

Any meaning held in the things from Dad’s
desk still eluded us. Just before dark we laid out our sleeping bags in the
tent, with Linh between Kyle and me. She always smelled of lavender, and I
enjoyed being next to her. We talked briefly about our plan for the morning.
The river’s mesmerizing churning took us quickly to sleep. My final thoughts
were wishing Amber had been able to come with us.

19

Beams of light broke through the night. Snapping
twigs and voices--someone was coming. I slid out of my bag and unzipped the
tent flap. Figures were weaving among the trees, but it was hard to know how
many. They were getting closer. I slipped on my shoes, leaving Linh and Kyle
asleep. The fire was just a cluster of glowing coals, but there was a moon and I
could be seen. A light crossed my face and one yelled, “There he is!” I took
off, looking for cover in the foliage and hoping they would follow and leave my
friends alone. The river was louder and more violent than before. I sprinted
along the now high and steep bank. Bullets ricocheted off the trees ahead, my
adrenaline surged. They were trying to kill me; they were going to kill me.

Dogs barked. “How did they find me? Where
can I go?” The river was raging, lights flashed all around, and heavy steps
pounded through leaves. I dashed into the dense forest and left the thundering
water behind. I was trying to dodge trees, but branches and undergrowth whipped
and slashed my face and body. Backtracking toward the tent, I looked back more
than ahead. Suddenly a tree limb smacked my shoulder hard and knocked me off my
feet. I landed on an elbow but somehow didn’t yell out in pain; instead I laid
on the ground, catching my breath and tried to figure out where I was and where
they were. The dogs were louder.

I ran again, wanting to reach Kyle and Linh
and the car. A crushing blow slammed into my waist from what felt like a two-by-four.
“You thought you could escape?” he spit.

I was unable to move and could only see his
silhouette. “Who are you?”

He laughed. “You’re full of surprises. Too
bad you’ve forgotten the name of the man who is going to kill you.” He raised a
rifle, put it to my forehead, and pulled the trigger.

I heard Kyle yelling, “Linh, over here.” A
noise had woken them, and they discovered I wasn’t in the tent. It took ten
minutes to find me. “Are you hurt?”

“I thought I was dead. He shot me.” My head
felt split in half.

“You’ve been shot? Where? Should I get
help?”

It was morning. Kyle came into focus. I
checked my body--quite a few scrapes and cuts, and my left shoulder and elbow
were tender. No gunshot wound. “I was sure he shot me.”

“Who? Nate, are you all right?”

“I think so.” I was trying to put the
pieces together.

“Is he okay?” Linh was there now.

“He thinks someone shot him but can’t find
where.”

“Did you check him?” she asked. “The noise that
woke us sounded like a gunshot.”

“I’m okay, I think it was an Outview on
steroids. People were after me, like it was happening right now.” I rolled
over, my voice strained. “It just didn’t seem like an Outview. I can’t believe
I’m alive.”

Kyle helped me up. I saw him and Linh
exchange concerned glances. They packed up camp. We didn’t talk for the first
twenty minutes of the drive. I was torn between times, hunted, haunted, and
bewildered.

20

Saturday, September 20

It only took forty-five minutes to reach
Mountain View Psychiatric Hospital. I shook off the Outview as best I could. It
was nothing compared with what Dustin was going through. Nonfamily members had
to be at least sixteen to visit, and Linh said she didn’t mind waiting in the
car. Just before eight, we were done signing in and directed to a very nice
outdoor courtyard, where flowers and wood benches were drenched in morning sun.
A few minutes later, Dustin entered from a door opposite us, gaunt and aged.
He’d always seemed so much taller than me and at six-one still was, but now he
seemed small somehow. We hugged. “Nate, you’ve been growing. Not sure I can
call you my
little
brother anymore.”

He remembered Kyle.

“You look good,” I lied. For the first time
he was skinnier than me, sickly.

“That bad, huh?”

“No, really. And this place is nothing like
I pictured. You know, it’s almost tranquil.”

“Yeah, it’s a real goddamned vacation
resort. Should I see if they have any vacancies? You all want to check in for a
couple of years?”

“Sorry, all I meant was I was expecting it
to look like a prison.”

“Don’t be too disappointed, it’s worse. At
least in prison your mind is free. Here, they lock up my brain every day with
meds that are stronger than iron bars.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. You didn’t put me here.”

“How much time do we have until they drug
you up again?”

“About forty minutes. So you better tell me
why after two years you finally got brave enough to disobey Mom and show up.”
His voice was weaker than his words.

“I know you’re not crazy, and we need to
figure this all out.”

“I’m not crazy now because it’s happening
to you too, right?”

“Something like that.”

“How do you know
you’re
not crazy, Nate?”

Kyle scrunched his face but didn’t want to
get in the middle of this.

“I thought I was for a while, but now I
think that you and I have some ability to connect with the other side, like
maybe the voices we hear are from dead people or guides. And somehow we can see
into our past lives, you know, reincarnation.” His lips were moving at the same
time I spoke, mouthing the words a split second before I said them. “Do you
know what I’m saying before I say it?” I demanded.

“Only an instant before. How could you
tell?”

“Your lips are moving.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize.”

“That’s cool. Kyle, watch his lips while I
talk. Can you do it with other people, too?”

“Yeah, as long as I’m not on Epidol,
Sciliden, Kaperdane, Dardax or any of the other chemical-cocktails-from-hell
they force feed me.”

“So, what do you think about my theory?”

“Nate, where were you two years ago? Of
course I know this stuff. I get about seventy minutes of clarity every morning
and that adds up to a lot of time to think over a period of two years. And I’ve
had a little help, too. Aunt Rose comes to visit at least once a week.”

“Does Mom know?”

“Of course not. You know Mom was never a
fan of Rose but then, with what happened at Dad’s funeral . . . Well, let’s
just say Mom told her she wasn’t welcome in her boys’ lives anymore.”

“I never did know what happened, just that
they had some big fight or something.”

“Mom sure has worked hard at protecting
you. The way Rose tells it, she told Mom that Dad had been murdered. Not
something you should spring on a widow with two kids at a funeral. Anyway, she
didn’t stop there, she warned Mom that you and I were going to develop psychic
powers, and it would be much easier on us if Rose taught and tutored us through
it.”

“How did she know all this?”

“She’s psychic, too.”

“Of course she is,” Kyle said.

“Maybe not the best one,” Dustin said with
a chuckle. “Not sure where she was coming from on Dad’s death, but she
definitely has some abilities, and it must run in the family. She said Grandma
and Dad did, too.”

Kyle’s eyes met mine. Before I blurted out
that she was right about Dad being murdered, I remembered where we were and
didn’t think Dustin needed that information just yet.

“You have to go see her,” he said. “She
lives like an hour from here in Merlin.”

“Your psychic aunt lives in a town called
Merlin
?
Oh, that’s appropriate,” Kyle said.

Dustin cackled loud and almost looked good
for a moment. “He’s funny, Nate, better get him out of here, or they’ll want to
keep him and straighten out his humor.”

“How do I find her?”

“She’s in the book.  Merlin, you know it’s
just north of Grants Pass. Anyway, drive down the main drag--it’s a tiny place--and
you’ll see this little brick house with a neon sign out front saying ‘Psychic’ and
‘Palms Read.’ You can’t miss it.”

“Seriously, she’s a roadside psychic?” Kyle
asked.

“Yeah, want to know who you’re going to
take to the prom? She’ll tell you,” Dustin said.

Then he went quiet and stared at the brick
wall for a long time.

“Dustin, are you all right?”

“As lone as God, and white as a winter
moon, Mount Shasta starts up sudden and solitary from the heart of the great
black forests.”

“That’s beautiful. Who said it?”

“I did. Didn’t you just hear me?”

“I mean, originally.”

“I don’t know, some dead poet. We need to
go to Shasta, Nate . . . soon. I have to show you something. Something you have
to see to believe.”

“What is it?”

“There’d be no way to describe it. I
wouldn’t even try. I have to take you there.”

We walked laps around the courtyard for
twenty minutes, chatting small talk, trying to avoid the awfulness of what his
life had become.

“Did you drive my truck?”

“No.”

He looked disappointed.

“We’re going to figure out how to get you
released.”

“Just bring my truck up here, leave the
keys under the mat. I’ll find a way out to it.” He was serious.

“We need to do it so they don’t come
looking for you, where they will leave you alone.”

“Are you going to tell Mom you saw me?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“If you do, ask her what Dad would think of
me being here!”

“Dad wouldn’t have let her put you here.”

“I know. That’s my point. Maybe she’ll
listen to you. Or maybe she’s ready to lock you up here with me.”

“What did you mean when you told me on the
phone it might be a rough trip?”

“Meet any strange people? Anyone come
screaming out of a past life trying to get you? And the trip ain’t over yet,
Nate.”

“How do you know this stuff?”

“I’m psychic, remember? Or wait, I’m crazy
. . . psychic, crazy, psychic, oh, I keep forgetting which it is. I’m so confused.”
He laughed heartily.

“You said you wouldn’t be able to help.”

“Meds.”

“I know, but how could you help otherwise?”

“Man, we got to get you some proper teachin’,
little brother. It’s not just about peering into past lives and hearing random
things. You can see into this life and hear things that actually mean
something.”

“How?”

“Get me out of here and I’ll show you.”

“If you can do all that, why can’t you get
yourself out?” Kyle asked.