Authors: Christopher Pike
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Paranormal, #Fantasy & Magic, #Social Themes, #Death & Dying, #General, #Social Issues, #Horror & Ghost Stories
He checked his watch. “If you don’t want to talk, then why are you here?” he asked.
“You tell me.”
“You’re here for answers.”
“Yes. Give them to me. Why did you have me kidnapped?”
“I had nothing to do with you ending up in that morgue.”
“What about the meat locker?”
Russell glanced down, studied my dusty shoes, ignored my question. “You look like you walked here,” he said.
“Well, I sure as hell wasn’t going to get in another taxi, was I?”
“How did you walk here on a broken ankle?”
His question threw me for a loop. I wasn’t sure how badly I had hurt my nose but my ankle was another matter. When I had leaped and missed the meat hook, it had definitely snapped. It was possible it hadn’t broken, but at the very least I had sprained it so bad I shouldn’t have been able to walk on it.
Yet I had just stormed up the Strip on foot.
Russell could see I was confused, probably because I didn’t know what to say. He spoke in my place.
“Who are you going to talk to if you don’t talk to me? To James? To Alexis?”
“How do you know about Jimmy?”
“I know him.”
“How?” I demanded. “And why do you call Alex Alexis? And Jimmy James?”
“Come inside and I’ll explain.”
“No! You sent those psychos after me!”
“Those people were interested in you long before we met.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He opened the door wider. “It’s a long story. Come in.”
“How do I know you won’t try to hurt me again?”
Russell did an odd thing right then. He smiled as if I had said something silly. “How could I possibly hurt you?” he asked.
“You could cut my throat. You could shoot me.”
His next question threw me for an even bigger loop. It was almost as if he had witnessed my encounter with Moonshine, Wing, and Squat.
“Wouldn’t you be able to protect yourself?”
Again, I was stumped. He had all the answers; I was just a warmed-up corpse with possible brain damage. “They’re playing red queen downstairs,” I said.
“I know.”
“Twenty-two. Not twenty-one.”
“I know.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Nope,” he said.
“Why did you teach me that game?”
“So you would know to come here.”
“When I didn’t know where else to go?”
“Exactly.”
I hesitated. “Are you connected?”
“Yes. Now you’re connected. Please come in, Jessica.”
He had me, I had nowhere else to go. Except into the suite of the man who had arranged my kidnapping. I stepped through the door and he closed it at my back.
THE SUITE APPEARED THE SAME AS THE PREVIOUS
night. His laptop was open and running on the dining room table. A neat pile of his firm’s leaflets sat beside it. However, the coloring of the brochures was different. I needed to study one up close to be sure, but the black and red lettering looked like a fresh touch.
I sat on the same leather chair as before. He sat across from me, on the love seat. He took a cell phone out of his pocket.
“May I call some friends of mine and tell them you’re here?”
I snorted. “Not!”
“These people are important. You’ll want to meet them. They’ll be able to answer questions that I can’t.”
“Are these the people who orchestrated my kidnapping?”
“They wouldn’t call it that, but yes.”
“Forget it,” I said.
“I have to call them at some point.”
“Fine. Call them when I’m ten miles from here.”
“What if I told you that someone close to you is with these people?”
“I would assume you were lying.”
“I have tried hard not to lie to you, Jessica.”
“Gee, Russell, why do I have trouble believing that?”
He sighed and put the cell phone away. “All right, what do you want to know?”
“Why are they playing twenty-two downstairs?”
“Instead of twenty-one?”
“Duh. Yeah, instead of twenty-one.”
“That’s a long story.”
“You said that already. I assume we have time.” I added, “Or do you need to get to bed early? If that’s the case, I’m afraid you’re too late. The sun will be coming up in about three hours.”
“That doesn’t bother me. I just have to be in bed before dawn. So do you.”
“Why?”
“That’s part of the long story.”
“Great. I love stories. Tell me your story.”
He pointed to the brochures on the table. “Remember the scanner I told you about? How it was designed to read a person’s genetic code?”
“Yes. Was that a lie?”
“No. It does read a normal person’s genetic code. Only that’s not its main purpose.” He paused as if searching for the right words. “It was originally built to identify people who are more than normal.”
“More than normal? Like superheroes or something?”
“The scanner is able to identify people who have an extra set of genes. Genes your average person doesn’t possess.”
“How many people possess these extra genes?”
“It’s impossible to answer that question with a simple number. One in ten thousand people might possess one of the genes I’m talking about. But only one in a million would possess three or more.”
“How many of these genes exist?”
“So far we’ve identified ten.”
“What do they do for the people who have them?”
“Most people who have them don’t even know they exist. They lie dormant and don’t do a thing. But once they’ve been activated, well, they give a person special abilities.”
“Let me guess. Like the ability to win at cards?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re special, Russell.”
“Why the sarcasm? You know it’s true.”
“Forgive me. It’s just that I hate it when a guy starts talking about how special he is. Especially when the same guy keeps
ignoring my question. Why are people downstairs playing twenty-two?”
He held up a hand. “I warned you, to properly answer your question, I need time.”
“I assume, since you say I’m connected, that I have one or more of these genes?” I asked.
“That’s right. You have more than I do.”
“Gee whiz, that must make me one in a billion.”
“Jessica. We’re going to get nowhere if you don’t drop that snide attitude.”
“I might drop it if you called me Jessie instead of Jessica.” I paused. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
“It’s your name here.”
“What do you mean, ‘here’? In this suite? In this hotel?”
“Please, if you’d let me continue.”
“No. I need you to tell me where ‘here’ is. If you don’t, I might start screaming, and if I start, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stop.”
“Just because they’re playing twenty-two downstairs instead of twenty-one?”
“Yeah. You see, I have this small problem when one of the cornerstones of the universe suddenly changes. It makes me feel uncomfortable. And since this is supposed to be Las Vegas, and in Las Vegas they play twenty-one, I want to know where I’m at.” I paused. “Please.”
“All right.” He suddenly stood. “Let’s go in the bedroom.”
I remained seated. “Why?”
“We’re not going to get anywhere unless you open up your mind. Come, we need to go in the bedroom.”
“What’s in the bedroom?”
“A mirror. I want you to look into it.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes. Come.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Duh. You helped kidnap me yesterday. Now you want me to trust you to go in your bedroom.”
“You’re as safe in there as you are out here.”
“I’m not going in your bedroom.”
“I can’t answer your questions without the mirror.”
“Try.”
He paused. “Don’t you feel like you could protect yourself from me if the need arose?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, although I knew exactly what he meant. Just look at what I’d done to Wing, Squat, and Moonshine. Russell was watching me closely.
“Something’s happened to you since you awakened in the hospital. Something that’s told you the answer to my question is yes. So let’s be honest with each other. I know you’re not afraid of me.”
He was right. Instinctively, if it came to a fight, I knew I would be hard to beat. He didn’t scare me.
I followed him into his bedroom. There was a lamp on low by the tall windows that overlooked the Strip, but otherwise the room was mostly shadows. The mirror he was referring to was connected to the main closet. It reached from the floor to the ceiling. He sat on the corner of the bed and told me to stand in front of the mirror and gaze into it.
“What do you see?” he asked.
“Me. The bed. The windows.”
“Can you see me?”
“Not unless I turn my head and look at an angle.”
“Don’t do that. Just stand perfectly still and stare at the mirror and listen to my voice.”
“You’re not going to hypnotize me, are you?”
“I’m going to help you see something you’ve forgotten.”
“What does that mean?”
“For now, drop all your questions and just go along with me for a few minutes. When we’re done, you can ask anything you wish. You can leave if you want, go see your friends. But for now, to get to the heart of your questions, you must cooperate. Okay?”
“Okay. But I’m not taking off my clothes.”
“You don’t have to take off your clothes. Just stare into the mirror. Focus. Tell me what you see.”
“Myself.”
“Raise your right arm. Like you’re about to wave hi to someone. What do you see?”
I raised my right arm. “My arm in the air.”
“Is it your right arm or your left arm?”
“It’s my right arm.”
“But you’re staring at your reflection. Does it look like your right arm or your left arm?”
“It looks like my left arm because in the mirror everything is reversed. But I know it’s my right arm.”
“Because your intellect tells you it’s your right arm?”
“Yes.”
“But when you stare at the mirror, innocently, everything in the room appears to be backward?”
“I would say inverted or reversed.”
“Those are good words, accurate words. Still, the image of you in the mirror is a reflection of who you are. Now let your right arm drop and raise your left arm. What do you see?”
I obeyed his instructions. “My left arm in the air.”
“But you really just see an arm in the air? You have to think about it to know it’s your left arm.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Now we’re going to play a little game. You’re going to let the analytical part of your brain slowly turn off so you see what you see without questioning it. We’re looking for innocence here, nothing more. It might take a few minutes to get in this state but we’re in no hurry. All your questions, all your doubts, we can save them for later. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Let your arm fall to your side and relax. Stare at the mirror. What do you see?”
“My face.”
“Good. You’ve begun to focus on your face. Now smile, smile brightly, and tell me, what do you see?”
I smiled as best I could, but it was hard to maintain while I answered. “I see my teeth, my gums, my lips curving upward.”
“Good. Your reflection responds to what you do. Blink a few times. What do you see?”
“I see myself blinking.”
“See. You’re in control. It can only do what you do. Why? Because it’s only a reflection. You’re what’s real. Agreed?”
“Yes.”
“Wiggle your nose.”
I wiggled my nose.
“What do you see?”
“My nose wiggling.”
“Take a long last look at your face, and a long last look at your body. Soon you’re going to close your eyes. But before you do, you want the image of yourself fixed firmly in your mind. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Study yourself closely.”
“I am.”
“Study your hair, your face, your shoulders and your arms.
Let your gaze slowly travel the length of your body, and when you feel ready, go ahead and shut your eyes.”
I started my exam from the top, like he told me to. But I don’t remember exactly when I closed my eyes. At some point I just realized they were shut. A part of me suspected he was trying to hypnotize me, but I wasn’t worried. I knew no one could be hypnotized against their will.
Also, I found the practice pleasant. He had a soothing voice, and it was relaxing to stare into the mirror. Even standing in front of it, with my eyes shut, was calming.
Russell spoke as if from far away.
“You know you’re standing in front of a mirror. You don’t need to open your eyes to see your reflection. You know it’s there, just a few feet in front of you. And you know your reflection is under your control.”
“Yes,” I said softly.
“When you move, it moves.”
“Yes.”
“We’re going to continue with our game. It’s totally safe and you’ll be in control at all times. Now I want you to imagine that your mind is
inside
your reflection. That the control over your body has moved
into
your reflection. This is easy to do. Like I said, your reflection is just a few feet away. To all intents and purposes, it’s identical to you. The only difference is everything in the mirror is reversed. Other than that, you are moving your consciousness into an exact replica of yourself.” He paused.
“Relax and let your mind drift forward. Let it drift toward your reflection. Don’t think too much about it. Don’t worry if you’re doing it right or wrong. Just let your mind float forward into your reflection and enjoy the sensation of letting go.”
I was surprised how easy it was to obey his instruction. The truth is, I think a part of me did something similar every morning when I brushed my teeth in front of my home mirror. I
enjoyed
staring at myself, although I had never told anyone before. I was probably afraid they would think I was vain. For me to let my mind drift inside my reflection seemed like no big deal.
Again, his voice seemed to come from far off.
“Do you feel like you have moved into your reflection?”
“Yes,” I heard someone whisper. It was me talking but it sounded like another person, someone nearby.
“Are you comfortable where you are?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Even though your eyes are closed, can you imagine your body standing in front of you?”