The Faithful (21 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Josh watched as Kahina prepared Ryanne for hypnosis, helping her settle comfortably on the couch and dimming the lights. She covered her in a plush green blanket, tucking it gently underneath her legs, but Josh noticed she avoided touching Ryanne. After the last time, Josh couldn’t blame her.

“Okay, Ryanne. Are you comfortable?” Kahina asked, her voice melting into a soothing hum.

“I’m a bit nervous,” she admitted.

“That’s to be expected. But I’m here, and Agent Metcalf is here, and nothing bad can happen to you on our watch.” She sat in the chair near Ryanne’s head.

“We’re going to explore your memories, and as we do, I want you to keep in mind that a memory is something in the past. As I guide you into hypnosis, which is nothing more than a deep state of relaxation, I’m going to keep reminding you to take a step back from it, to be an observer only, as though watching everything on a movie screen inside your mind. You will not be reliving it with the same intensity as you did the first time.” Her voice was slow, soothing, and Josh could feel himself relax under the weight of her words.

“Okay,” Ryanne said, leaning back against the cushions. “What do I do?”

“Just listen to my voice. Let it be your guide, and allow yourself to appreciate that you can relax . . . deeply . . . and calmly . . . and let your eyes close now . . . as you feel wave after gentle wave of relaxation . . . lapping over you . . . soothing the muscles and ligaments in your body . . . that’s good, Ryanne . . .”

Josh blinked and sat upright, fighting against the tug of Kahina’s voice as she continued to draw Ryanne down into a hypnotic state. He watched her face relax, her brows unfurl, the lines around her eyes smooth out, and her jaw loosen as she responded to Kahina’s slow prompts.

“And you know that a very deep part of you can start to feel very soothed . . . and reassured in such a comforting way . . . as you continue to
relax
. . . so beautifully and serenely . . . like the surface of beautifully calm water . . . so clear and calm . . .” she continued softly, her voice slowing more and more with each thought, each word.

Josh shook his head, fighting against the desire to close his eyes. He watched Ryanne’s pale face, smooth and unlined in relaxation, as Kahina continued. Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl, each moment punctuated by the slow inhale and exhale of Ryanne’s breath.

“And now I’d like to focus . . . on the movie screen in your mind . . . and notice how it is big . . . and white . . . and unlit . . . but in a moment . . . when you are ready . . . a picture will begin to emerge . . . and you will watch . . . with calm . . . peaceful . . . detachment . . .”

Ryanne let out a soft moan, and her brow tightened.

“Can you tell me what you are seeing?”

“Butterflies.” Ryanne’s voice startled Josh out of his drowsiness. It had the pure, high-pitched tone of a child. Gone was the deeper huskiness he had grown accustomed to. “Yellow and orange and black. So pretty.”

“And is there anything else?”

“A man.”

“Can you describe this man?”

“He’s wearing a black robe, like a priest. He’s got gray hair.”

“And what is he doing?”

She let out a squeaky giggle that made the hairs on the back of Josh’s neck stand up. “He’s dancing.”

“He’s dancing?” Kahina prompted.

“They think he’s funny.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“The kids watching him.”

“And why do they think he’s funny?”

“Because his dancing is silly. He’s dancing with the butterflies. They are flying around his head. Landing on his hands, and shoulders, and one even lands on his nose. It makes him sneeze.” She giggled again.

“Who are the kids watching him dance?”

“Mmmm. Lots of kids. Young ones.”

“And is Ryanne watching the man dance?”

“No.
Rowan,
” she corrected, a slight frown creasing her brow.

“Of course. Rowan. Is Rowan there?”

“Yes. She’s very little. She’s the newest Disciple.”

“The newest what?”

“Shh. He’ll hear you.”

“Who will hear me?”

“Father,”
she whispered.

“Father? The priest? I promise he can’t hear me.”

“Then why is he
looking
at you?”

Kahina took in a sharp breath. Josh’s stomach flipped over.

“He’s . . . looking at me?”

“Oh yes,” she said in a singsong voice. “He has a message for you.”

Kahina looked questioningly at Josh. All he could do was shrug. “What’s the message?” she asked.

“He says you’re weak. You can’t stop them. He says you’ll die with the rest of the cockroaches.”

“What . . .
who
can’t I stop?”

Ryanne shook violently, like an earthquake was rumbling through her whole body. Her eyes opened and focused on Kahina with bitter hatred. Her eyes were black. Kahina froze.

That’s not Ryanne, Josh thought. He jumped to his feet and pulled his weapon.

The voice that emerged from her throat was deep and gravelly, a man’s voice.
“Stay out of her head, charlatan.”

“Who . . . who are you?” Kahina stuttered.

“I am the New World. Who are YOU to stand against me?”

And then those black eyes turned on Josh.

Josh raised his weapon.

“
Shoot her, Agent Metcalf. Kill her! Leave her choking on her own blood.”

Her head cocked to the side, red hair sliding across her face as she examined him with something close to amusement.

“Can you do it again, Metcalf? I promise, killing gets easier the more you do it.”
And with that, she reared off the couch and lunged at him, teeth bared and snarling like a rabid dog.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

“Ryanne! Ryanne . . . fight back! Can you hear me?”

I was in the black. It wasn’t the black of nighttime, or what I’d imagine one would find in the depths of the earth. It was a sightless kind of dark, one without any hope of light.

“Baby girl, you need to
fight
.” She sounded distant, anxious.

“I can’t, Mama. I’ve been swallowed by the whale.” The voice that emerged from my throat was young, childlike.

“You need to find your way back, Boo. He can’t keep you here unless you let him. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mama. But I don’t know what to do!” I was so tiny, so insignificant against the vast sea of darkness.

“The jail is your mind. Find the wormhole, Ryanne. It’s there! You just need to find it.”

“The wormhole . . .”

“That’s right, baby girl. The one that will bring you home.”

“But I’m not little anymore, Mama. That’s
ago
, that life with you and the sunshine. I can’t go back there.”

“No, no. That’s not your home anymore, Ryanne. Don’t you see?”

“See what, Mama?”

“It’s Josh.
Josh
is your home now, Boo. You have to save him!”

“Save him? From what?”

“From
extinction
, Ryanne.”

“What? I don’t understand!”

“You will, Boo. In time, you will. For now, you must go! Listen to him! He’s calling you. Follow his voice, it will lead you home.”

She was right, I
could
hear his voice, so distant but so very insistent.

“Okay, Mama.”

“That’s a good girl, Boo. You’re a good, brave girl.”

I took one step, and then another. His voice grew louder. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but there was desperate fear in his voice. I started to run. Down and down into the wormhole. Away and toward, all at the same time.

“I’m coming Josh! Hang on, I’m coming!”

He was flattened out on top of me like a lead blanket. My hands were pinned between our bodies. My injured left shoulder, twisted at an odd angle, was on fire. I could barely breathe.

“How much do you weigh?” I wheezed, trying without success to wriggle out from under him, at least enough to fill my lungs.

“Ryanne?” he shouted in my ear. I winced away from him, head pounding savagely.

“Well, who else?”

“Ryanne?” he shouted again.

What the hell was the matter with him?

“Are you . . . trying . . . to kill me?”

He lifted himself up enough to allow me a full breath. His eyes were huge and panicked, and he was breathing in sharp, shallow gasps, like a locomotive trying to make it up a hill.

It was disconcerting to be so close to him. His blue eyes were pinwheeled with slate gray and framed with squint lines.

“It was more the other way around.” He was staring at me so intently I started squirming.

“What?”

“Your eyes are green.”

“Um. Yeah. They are.”

“Are you Ryanne?”

“I thought I was the one with a concussion.”

“This is no time for jokes. I almost killed you.”

“What a way to go. Steamrollered by an FBI agent.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, but his eyes remained serious. “A bullet to the head might have been worse.”

He hoisted himself off me and plunked down on the carpet by my side. That’s when I noticed the gun in his hand. And Kahina, who had backed up against the far wall of her office and was standing there with her hands cupped over her mouth.

“What . . . happened?”

“Some guy tried to get me to kill you.” Easing an arm under my back, he helped me to a sitting position, wincing when I moaned in pain.

“What guy?”

“You tell me.” Another penetrating look, as though confirming I was indeed Ryanne, and he holstered his gun.

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Kahina? Can you help me?”

Her hands had dropped to her sides, but she was still propped against the back wall. I suspected if she weren’t she would have fallen. “I’ve . . . never seen anything like it.”

“Like what? What happened?”

“I . . . your regression was going beautifully. You followed my guidance perfectly, and went under like a dream. You were telling us about a priest, and some kids who were watching him dance . . .”

“With butterflies. I remember that.”

“Do you remember what happened next?” Josh asked.

“I . . .” I closed my eyes, thinking back. “He stopped dancing and turned to look at me. He had black eyes. And then . . .”

“Then what?”

“Everything went black.” I opened my eyes. “What happened?”

Josh looked at Kahina. She shrugged uneasily. “I’ve hypnotized hundreds of subjects over the years, and there has never been anything close to this. This was more like a . . .”

“Possession.” Josh finished when she couldn’t.

“Possession? You mean like
The Exorcist
?”

Josh met my eyes, and I could see that whatever had happened, it had disturbed him to the core of his being. “Exactly.”

“It was a man,” Kahina added. “He told me some horrible stuff. That I would die with the rest of the cockroaches. And then he tried to goad Agent Metcalf into killing you by attacking him.”

“I came
this close
to shooting you. I knocked you off your feet and pinned you. I’m afraid I might have hurt you, but you were doing your best to rip my heart out of my chest.”

“I . . . can’t believe it. I’m so sorry, Josh.”

“It wasn’t
you
, Ryanne; there’s no need to apologize. But if you weren’t weakened by your injuries, I don’t know what might have happened.”

“Are you okay?”

“Nothing that a boatload of whiskey won’t fix,” he tried to joke.

Kahina pushed herself off the wall. “I’ll make a calming tea.” She plugged in the kettle and started digging through the tins on her coffee table, pulling out assorted herbs and dumping them into a teapot. Her hands were shaking. She poured in the steaming water, set the pot to steep, and helped Josh get me back to the couch.

My right leg was throbbing, as was my left shoulder. The worst of it, however, was my head. It was like someone was taking a chisel to my temples. Without having to be asked, Josh shook a couple of pills into my palm. I swallowed them with a gulp of hot tea, fragrant with chamomile and mint. Why did tea always smell better than it tasted?

“Is there anything else you can remember, Ryanne?”

“I could draw you a picture of what the priest looked like, but I’m not a very good artist. I assume a stick figure won’t help you much?” I shrugged. “He had gray hair and black eyes, like I said. He was younger in the beginning, when he was dancing with the butterflies. Maybe in his fifties. But when he looked at me, it was like he suddenly aged twenty or thirty years. Like he traveled up through time from that memory to the present, all within the span of a few seconds. His face thinned out and developed more lines. His hair became more white than gray.”

“Do you remember anything about the surroundings? Or the other kids?”

“The kids were a blur. I heard them laughing, but I didn’t actually see them. As for the surroundings? It was a clearing, or maybe a meadow. There was forest all around, and I think there were mountains in the background. I couldn’t see them, but I could feel them out there. It was nearing dusk. Everything was hazy and tinged with gold.”

“What about smells? Do you remember any particular scents?”

I thought back, closing my eyes. “Forest smells, you know. Pine trees and greenery and flowers. And horses.”

“Horses?”

“Yeah, I could smell horses and hay and bran mash.”

“What’s bran mash?”

“You feed it to horses. It has a kind of sweet, earthy smell once you mix it with hot water.”

“How do you know that?” Josh asked, and my eyes popped open.

“I . . . don’t know.”

“Have you spent time around horses? I mean, as an adult?”

“No. Never.”

“Well, then. There’s a clue,” Kahina chimed in.

“Forest and horses,” Josh mused.

“And mountains,” I added.

“Right. That doesn’t narrow it down much, does it?” He seemed so despondent, I reached out and grabbed his hand.

“It’s a
start
. We’re getting somewhere Josh.”

“I know. You’re right.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get more information for you. But this is just the beginning.”

“You can’t be hypnotized again!”

Kahina agreed. “It’s too dangerous. You almost got killed. The both of you.”

“Are you serious? That’s
it
? Just because some weird guy comes through and spouts off a bunch of filth?”

“It was more than that. He was dangerous, and he wanted you dead,” Kahina said. “What did he do to you? Where did you go?”

“Into the black. But I fought my way back out.”

“How?”

“I had some guidance.” I shrugged uncomfortably.

“Who guided you?” Kahina asked.

I looked at Josh. “My mom.” I realized we were still holding hands when I felt the tremor of his within my grasp.

“And Josh, too,” I continued. He looked at me in surprise. “My mom told me to follow your voice down the wormhole.”

“The wormhole?”

“It’s an image I used when I was kidnapped. It helped me to remember. I guess they were trying to make me forget my life before.”

Kahina drew in a shaky breath. She must have been thinking about her granddaughter, wondering what was happening to her.

“She told me I had to save you, Josh,” I admitted.

“Save me from what?”

“From extinction.”

“What?”

“That’s what she said. And I can’t think of any other way to do that than to figure out who kidnapped me.” I looked at Kahina. “And Leora. If we can figure that out, maybe we’ll learn what this greater danger is, as well. And how to stop it.”

“What if you don’t make it out of the black the next time?” Josh asked.

My mom had called Josh my home. Not a place, like Las Cruces, or even a moment in time, like the present or the past, but a person. And one I had just met. But I wasn’t ready to think about that, let alone discuss it. “I think I will, as long as you’re there to call me back,” I said simply.

“I will be. You’re very brave, Ryanne.” The echo of my mom’s words made me feel very young and small. I was surprised to feel my eyes prickle with tears.

“All right, if we’re really going to try this again, I think Ryanne should have a rest first,” Kahina said.

“I’m fine,” I protested.

“You’re not fine,” Josh disagreed. “You have a concussion. You’re supposed to be resting so you don’t make it worse. You heard what Dr. Sanchez said.”

“All right, fine. Why don’t we go home and I’ll rest for a couple of hours. Maybe Kahina can come over later?”

Kahina and Josh looked at each other in sudden discomfort.

“Going home might be a bit of a problem,” Josh said.

“Why?”

“It’s my fault,” Kahina admitted. “I was so angry, and so desperate to find Leora. I really thought you were involved in her kidnapping.”

“I know you did. So, what’s the problem?”

“I spoke to the media.” Her cheeks were flushed. “I told them I thought you were involved in Leora’s kidnapping, and the police and FBI weren’t doing their job. I said I thought you knew the kidnappers, and where they had taken Leora. I told them I thought the FBI should be bringing you in for questioning, at the very least. And then I gave them your name. And your address.”

“Holy shit. They’re probably swarming all over my house right now!”

“I’d imagine so. I think going home would be a very bad idea,” Josh said.

“What about my house?” Kahina offered.

“Not secure enough.” Josh shook his head. “They know where you live, too. They could show up there at any time. I think we’re going to have to find a hotel.”

Americas Best Value Inn was located on West Picacho Avenue on the western edge of Las Cruces. Josh eased me into a seat in the lobby and went to check in. The lobby was done in neutral grays and whites. A couple of statement walls were painted in pool blue and hot pink, and the whole space was airy and clean.