Psychic

by F. P. Dorchak

  If Black knew — shit, that meant he could be anywhere.

  Breathing heavily, Travis slowed, ducking into the shadow of the next available building. He leaned against the brick, keeping Lizzie on his shoulders. Again shifted her form.

  “Lizzie,” Travis whispered, his breathing labored, “we’ve got to keep moving. Speak to me — how are you?”

  Lizzie barely opened her eyes.

  “Let me… go… leave me…”

  “No can do. Gettin you outta here.”

  “Joe,” she said weakly, “… why… why’d you…”

  “Sssshh,” Travis soothed, “everything’ll be all right. Whatever he did to you back there was all mental — hallucinations—”

  A light, distant thud caught Travis’s attention. A heavy door closing? He carefully poked his head around the corner. There, out the side of 4250, Travis saw the shadow of a man. The man scanned the area. Travis heard an approaching vehicle.

  Gina.

  “Time to go!” he whispered to Lizzie.

  Still hugging the shadows, Travis watched for the open-top Wrangler and spotted it.

  Travis — I’m—

  See ya. We’re over here, he thought, sending her an image. Travis saw her head turn, then the Jeep, as it whipped a U-turn. It pulled up alongside in no time.

  “Quickly!” Gina said.

  Travis lumbered up to Gina and the Jeep and quickly deposited Lizzie into the back. “He just exited the building!” he said, and jumped in alongside Gina. Gina looked to him — gave him a quick, nervous smile — then shot back into gear, spinning the wheels as she hit the accelerator. Travis checked on Lizzie. She continued mumbling, but the blood had finally stopped flowing. Travis heard a weird, muffled grunt and turned to Gina.

  “I think she’s—”

  Gina lay slumped forward on the wheel, arms hanging limply to her sides. A bump in the road turned her face toward him.

  Gone. It was just… gone.

  He looked in their direction of travel and saw they headed toward a bend in the road. He knew there was a drop-off into a culvert at that bend. Travis grabbed the wheel. His grip initially slipped on gore, and he barely managed to avoid the unexpected detour over that drop off. Without the pressure of Gina’s foot on the accelerator, the Jeep slowed. Travis checked behind him to see what he was sure was the same shadow he’d seen moments before. Yes, but he wasn’t alone. Beside Black stood another, probably one of the building’s security team, who still had the upraised assault rifle.

  Take out the driver, Travis picked up from Black. Do it.

  But just as he turned away, he saw Black casually raise his own weapon and take out the shooter with a bullet to the man’s head.

  “Goddamn.”

  Travis looked back to Gina. He forced her back, away from the steering wheel and against her seat. He barely kept from retching, as he held her back against her seat and had to look through her brains and blood and bone debris splattered across the windshield.

  Rolling to a stop, the Jeep harmlessly bumped the curb. Gina’s body again slumped forward, and Travis again forced Gina back against her seat.

  “Oh, God, Gina…”

  He looked back to the shadow. It was now — confidently — striding toward them.

  They had to keep moving!

  “Sorry, girl,” he said.

  Travis set his jaw… and forced Gina out of the Jeep. Her feet got tangled in the foot well, but he kicked at them until she fell free. Gina thudded as she hit the ground, disappearing into the darkness below the vehicle. Travis jumped into the driver’s seat and stomped on the gas. Spitting out gravel from beneath the tires, he heard a metallic zing! — the sound of a missed round pinging off the Jeep’s roll bar.

  Travis gunned the vehicle, weaving to avoid further hits. Glancing in the rearview, he no longer saw Black and sped off into the darkness ahead.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  1

  Travis drove out of the dimly lit side streets and onto the better-lit John F. Kennedy Boulevard, the compound’s main drag. Wind whipping hair and face, he inhaled crisp night air and subtle floral scents… wished they were partaking of their nocturnal ride under seriously better circumstances. Travis twisted around to the back seat.

  What was it about this woman that was so important torture and murder were necessary?

  Travis glanced into his rearview. He still didn’t see Black following — but, he could be anywhere. Up ahead, and far off to his right, came additional headlights heading perpendicular and toward JFK Boulevard.

  What did this mean, now, for the rest of them?

  A life on the run — which, with a remote-viewing program, was next to impossible? Would Black seek them all out and “neutralize” each of them, one by one? Was this what they all had to look forward to for the rest of their short existences?

  Another pair of headlights popped up back in the distance in his rearview.

  Black.

  “Great,” Travis muttered, eyeing the lights.

  “Where am I?” came a weak whisper from behind.

  “Miss Gordon?”

  Travis again glanced back to her. She still lay as he’d left her, only this time her eyes were open. “How’re you feeling?”

  No response.

  “I’m with a small group of people,” he said. “We’re trying to get you out of here.”

  Travis shifted his attention between the road and Lizzie.

  “I’m — we’re — very sorry… I wish we could offer more.”

  Lizzie remained quiet.

  How were they going to get out of here? They still had to leave the compound, and he was certain Black would have already seen to it that gate checks were performed for all in-and-outgoing traffic. And they couldn’t just drive off the compound and out into the fields, because of security fences.

  Just where the hell did he think they were going?

  “Joe… what about…” came weakly from behind.

  “Excuse me?”

  The lights behind them continued to follow, but kept their distance.

  “I didn’t see anyone else in there with you—”

  Travis thought hard — could he have possibly missed someone else in there, in all that glare?

  No. There’d only been her…

  “… just you.”

  Travis again glanced back to Lizzie. As they passed under streetlights, he saw a damp face under hair tossing about in the cool night air. She’d closed her eyes and was squeezing them tightly. Travis reached back to her — but stopped. “I’m sorry… but there was no one else.”

  Travis tried to contact the others.

  Lee? Anyone?

  I’m here, Lee said. You have her?

  Yes… but Black’s on our tail.

  Where?

  On Kennedy. Travis passed a sign for the air strip, and sent the image.

  I’ll get there. Buy some time… weave in and out of buildings, streets — at normal speed — keep him guessing.

  Roger.

  Gina’s dead?

  Yes.

  Travis immediately turned at the next intersection.

  Lee?, Lizzie asked mentally, and Travis nearly swerved off the road.

  He looked behind him, but Lizzie didn’t look up. Even in the occasional streetlights they passed under, Travis could see she still looked beaten, raw, eyes still closed and swollen, as the light and shadows rolled across her face.

  Since before you were born, Lizzie sent to his unasked query, but, this is even new to me.

  Okay. Travis paused. I work with him.

  Remote viewers. Two are dead?

  Yes—

  Because of me?

  Travis made another turn.

  “We need to get you out of here. That’s all that matters,” he shouted into the wind.

  People are dying because of me.

  Travis had nothing to say, but kept exchanging glances between the rearview and the road. He took another turn.

 
Don’t worry, Lizzie sent, they’re fine.

  Travis shot her another look.

  Gina and Cory. They want me to tell you they’re—

  “How can you—”

  It’s what I do. For the most part… I used to be pretty good at this stuff.

  “How come I can’t pick up on them?”

  Lizzie mentally shrugged. Don’t know. Maybe because of your focus… stress? Don’t know.

  “What else can you see — sorry… are you all right?”

  Travis took another turn and looked into the rearview.

  I mean—

  I’m as fine as I can be. My children are with me—

  “Who are they?”

  Not quite sure. You’d think I would.

  Lizzie sent images that showed how the children were attached to her in some vague metaphysical way that she’d never been able to figure out — how they’d helped her, given her support. How she used to think they were some probable children she and her husband were supposed to have had — but that there were far too many for that.

  The room, the toys — Travis sent.

  Yes, Lizzie returned. And they’ve been with me since you got me out of…

  Since he’d removed her from hell.

  People thought physical torture was the worst, but it’s the psychological that was longest lasting… left the deepest scars. How would she—

  I’ll be okay, she sent.

  Travis blushed. “Sorry, was just—”

  No need. Thanks.

  Travis glanced into the rearview and saw that the headlights kept their distance. Lizzie opened her eyes.

  Your friend… he’s here, she sent.

  Another dark, open-topped Jeep pulled up alongside, flipping on his lights. Lee gave Travis a thumbs-up. Travis nodded.

  Now let’s play a little game of cat and mouses! Lee sent. Let’s whip in and out of each other to confuse things… then we peel off and go in different directions. Copy?

  Roger, copy, Travis sent.

  Sorry we had to meet like this, Lee sent Lizzie.

  Travis saw that in response to the extra Jeeps, Black had sped up. He was no doubt also calling in reinforcements, so whatever they were to do, had to be done quickly.

  “Hold on!” Travis said to Lizzie, “you might wanna strap in!”

  Lizzie felt around for the seat belt, buckled in, then grabbed the roll bar for stability. Travis and Lee began driving wildly about each other.

  “And stay down!” Travis shouted.

  The two Jeeps wove in and out of each other, tires skidding and skipping over pavement, kicking up dust and road debris. Black was quickly gaining on them.

  Okay, Travis sent, time to split!

  Lee nodded then peeled off, disappearing into the darkness. For the first time since this mission of theirs, Travis grinned as he glimpsed Black’s car slamming to a confused halt.

  Congratulations, boys, Lizzie sent, just might work.

  Travis looked back to her.

  “We’re certainly not out of this yet.”

  Travis stepped on the gas.

  Your companion Lee isn’t so lucky, Lizzie sent. Black just picked him as the vehicle to follow.

  Lee!

  See him. Just get her the hell outta here!

  “Shit,” Travis muttered, “Don’t know if I like this ability…

  2

  “I don’t know where else to go, but we seem to be coming up on our airstrip,” Travis said.

  Well, that’s as good a place as any, since Black’s back on our trail, Lizzie sent.

  Travis twisted around in his seat.

  As they passed a side street, he saw Black’s car waiting for them, lights off. As soon as they passed, the lights flicked on and it again pulled out behind them.

  “Crap!”

  “Go there,” came a tiny voice from beside him. Travis jumped. To the airstrip! this new voice sent mentally.

  The little girl who’d helped him find Lizzie was now sitting in the passenger seat, smiling, hands neatly folded in her lap. Her hair didn’t move in the Jeep’s windblast.

  “Goddammit — there’s too much ghost shit going on here!”

  “Potty mouth,” the girl said. “Just go right on through,” she continued, “don’t stop… do not stop.”

  Travis looked to her queerly. “Are you really there?” He looked in the rearview. “Can you see her?” he asked, looking back to Lizzie.

  Course, Lizzie responded. I’m more surprised you can — you’re the first I know to be able to.

  Hello, dear, Lizzie greeted the child.

  Hi, Mommy! the girl answered, cheerfully.

  Mommy? Travis sent. “This is just too frigging weird,” Travis said.

  Travis forced the accelerator down.

  The little girl looked back to Travis. “There’s no need for that,” the girl emphasized, “The guards won’t see you.”

  “Oh, yes, there is. I need to do it.”

  Both the girl and Lizzie smiled.

  Black sped up, keeping with them as they blasted past the open entry control point and its already lifted entry gate. The airstrip lay just beyond.

  They were now out on open tarmac. Out of the corner of his eyes Travis saw a plane landing, its landing spots on bright as it touched down. But the lights in his rearview had disappeared. A glance to his left found Black speeding alongside and just a touch behind. The girl in Travis’s passenger seat was gone.

  Wish we could do that, he sent to Lizzie.

  Zing!

  Black was back in action. Another nine mil round was sent their way.

  “Well, shit, shit, and shit,” Travis said, zigzagging the tarmac.

  Up ahead, Travis saw that the taxiing plane seemed to be heading straight for them.

  Another shot, this time pinging off the roll bar above.

  “Goddammit! How the hell do we get out of this one?” Travis shouted into the windblast.

  Lizzie remained quiet. Travis stole a peek. She seemed a little more there, now, sitting up at an angle while holding onto the roll bar, head low. She casually brushed away metallic roll-bar fragments from her face and hair.

  Both vehicles were now in an all-out sprint. Black’s vehicle was about a car length to the rear and left of Travis and Lizzie, which made it harder for Travis to keep an eye on what Black was doing.

  Another zing!, and Travis saw a spark ricochet off the Jeep’s hood. Again, Lizzie appeared unperturbed.

  “Lizzie,” Travis shouted, “could you please get down!”

  Lizzie adjusted her position. At that point, another bullet screamed from the rear and punched a neat hole through the passenger-side windshield.

  Then there was a loud boom, followed by the sound of screeching metal and tires and other commotion that quickly faded behind them. Twisting in his seat to his left, Travis saw Black’s car spinning horizontally out of control, like a top. Travis slowed just a touch as he arced their Jeep around to see what’d happened.

  An explosion.

  Travis again pushed on the accelerator, redirecting their Jeep away. He didn’t know where he was going, but figured he could cross the runway, ram the razor-wire fence, and hope the gods (or those children) had paved another way for them.

  Lee rammed Black, Lizzie sent. I fear he won’t live to brag about it.

  “Goddammit,” Travis said. Lee, he sent, Lee!

  No response.

  He’s unconscious, Lizzie sent. His only saving grace.

  What do you—

  The plane, Lizzie sent, head toward the plane.

  What?

  That’s what we’re meant to do. That’s our way out. Now — before Black regains his advantage.

  Travis gunned it for the Learjet.

  Yes, Lizzie sent. Just for us. Quickly…

  Travis quickly came up to the plane and whipped the Jeep around to the hatch side of the Learjet. The hatch opened as they pulled alongside. A figure emerged through the door and onto the hatch’s ste
ps. By the backlighting he saw the silhouette was waving frantically to them to hurry it the hell up. Travis pulled up beside the door and slammed to a side-skidding stop, jerking the both of them in their restraints, as the Jeep lifted then settled.

  A nursery rhyme suddenly blasted through Travis’s head, above the high-pitched whines of the Learjet’s engines.

  Ring around the rosie

  A pocketful of posies,

  Ashes, ashes!

  We all fall down.

  “What the hell?” he asked, but they were already in motion. The figure waving to them turned out to be an older gentleman with close-set, intense eyes. With the assistance of another, this gentleman was already helping Lizzie out the back of the Jeep.

  “Hurry,” urged the gentleman with a thick Massachusetts accent. “We haven’t much time!”

  Travis jumped out of the vehicle, taking over the older gentleman’s position with Lizzie. As Travis and the other man positioned Lizzie’s arms across the backs of their shoulders, Travis and Lizzie’s eyes met.

  It was as if Lizzie looked right through him.

  Unnerved, Travis stumbled. There was an intense mixture of hurt, appreciation, and… and that she had probed deep into him and had found something…

  The two of them carefully positioned Lizzie though the hatch and into the Learjet’s dimly lit interior. Travis then rushed inside as did the older gentleman and his assistant, who quickly pulled Lizzie the rest of the way in and locked shut the hatch. The Learjet kicked into action, its engines increasing in pitch. They were all slammed back into their seats as the aircraft lurched forward, spinning around hard and fast for the runway.

  “Thanks,” Travis said as they quickly settled Lizzie into her seat, buckled her in, and tried to keep from being tossed about within the cabin themselves.

  “You’re welcome,” the gentleman returned. “Pleazah and honah to meet you, young man,” Kennedy said, extending his hand to Travis.

  “An honor to meet you, sir,” Travis said, quite surprised to be shaking a President’s hand.

  “And this is Morris,” Kennedy said, directing him to his bodyguard. “One of my evah-present Guardian Angels. But we’rah not out of this yet,” he added, and quickly strapped himself in. “I suggest you do the same.”

  The cabin lights blinked off, the jet’s speed increased, and Travis slammed back into the seat beside Lizzie. All four went quiet as the jet picked up speed and lifted its nose.