“Now, you can take her away,” he ordered with a wave of his hand, and then turned toward his desk.
Thellius disappeared from my sight when the agents, Julian, and I returned to the corridor. The freaking C.E.O.? I was this close to him. If I had figured out a way to overpower the agents and Julian, I could’ve taken Thellius hostage.
Okay, so there was no way that plan would succeed. Hell, I couldn’t even free myself from the agents’ grasp. Who was I kidding? I could still dream, though…
“So, what’s next on the scenic tour?” I asked.
Julian snorted but replied, “Enjoy it while you can. You don’t have long before this place is erased from your mind.”
“Touching,” I said. “Do I get a last meal, too?”
One of the agents shoved me, and I nearly tripped. It wasn’t like I’d go anywhere, though; they had death grips on my arms. Yanking me backward, there was a razor-sharp pain in my right shoulder, and I winced.
The corridor turned into the damp, murky hallway I previously trekked. Somewhere nearby, water plopped into a puddle, the noise echoing through the underground tunnels. Light briefly faded, and one of the agents flicked a lighter, illuminating the cramped space. Oh, great. We were in the same passageway that led to the prison. Why didn’t they just take me to an agent’s office and get this over with already? Better yet, why didn’t they complete the act when we were in Thellius’ office? None of this made any sense. Like, were they dragging this out as long as possible to make me suffer? What was the point, if I wouldn’t remember any of it?
Torches lit the hallway ahead and the openings in the wall, which were separate prison corridors, leading to numerous holding cells. Only, this time around, the cells were completely vacant. There were no Dreamers waiting to have their imaginations wiped. Just me and the stone walls.
The agents shoved me into one of the cells, and I stumbled to my knees, hands bracing my fall, so I wouldn’t smash my face.
Snickering, Julian said, “It really was a pleasure meeting you, Kearly. Sadly, you and I would’ve never worked out.” He inched closer to the iron bars. Wrapping his fingers around the spools, he whispered, “See, I’ve traversed that route before, and it didn’t end so well.”
My forehead creased. Then, a rush of images flooded my head. Before, before, before. This had all happened before. With Dom. With Rafe. With Julian. History repeated itself.
“With Cassandra,” I concluded.
A minor grin tugged at the corner of Julian’s lips when I mentioned her name.
“But I thought she and Dom—”
“Oh, they were together,” he said. “Make no mistake about that. But she loved me first, you see. Dominic stole her, converted her to his side, and when she wouldn’t return to my arms, I made sure she wouldn’t return to his, either.”
It was like an invisible fist punched my stomach. “You killed her?” I rasped. “You sent her into the celestial world?”
He ignored my assumption. “Goodbye, Kearly.”
Julian and the two agents strolled out of the prison, leaving me alone with my thoughts. This was too much information to handle. Where was Dom when I needed him? What were they doing to him? Best I could tell, he was unconscious when he and the agents vanished. Who knows where they took him, or if he was even alive.
My mind wavered back and forth between the here and now, and the last moment I was in this jail. Visions of the middle-aged woman and her daughter flickered through my head. That little girl would never understand how to use her imagination. She wouldn’t participate on the playground with children her age, pretending to be a princess from an animated film, or the latest superhero. She’d sit on the sidelines, watching as the other kids happily skipped around and used the swings, monkey bars, and the slide. She wouldn’t understand why they were so happy and she wasn’t.
What happened to them? I wondered. Where are the mother and daughter now? Where are the others?
Empty benches and cells were hollow reminders of the people I could’ve saved. People who didn’t deserve to live in a world with no escapism. And if something wasn’t done to prevent the Ministry from erasing imaginations in the future, there wouldn’t be any Dreamers left to fill this prison. I had to stop Thellius and Mr. Lyons and Julian and anyone else who opposed those with the same ability as me. I couldn’t just stand here and wait for them to carry me off. I couldn’t give up.
Even though I wasn’t in the same cell as last time—the one where I tried to escape via the crumbling wall—I was positive there had to be another way out. I scanned the room, searching for a useful tool that would help me break free, but I came up short. There were benches and dirt and iron bars. That was it.
I picked up one end of the bench in my cell, dragged it to the chamber door, and slammed it, as hard as I could, against the metal rods caging me in place. Over and over again, I used the seat as battering ram. Clank. Tiiing. The sound reverberated through the thick poles. Clank. Tiiing. Clank. Tiiing. The bars didn’t budge, and my arms ached. Between fighting the agents and this, I had a feeling I’d be extremely sore tomorrow.
“Are you done yet?” asked a man from somewhere close by.
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
He added, “You’re giving me a headache.”
Dropping the bench in place against the rear wall of the cell, I turned around, examining the entrance to the cluster of exposed compartments. Even with the torches lighting the outside hallway, there weren’t any shadows dancing on the stone wall, so he must’ve been on the other side. Out of sight.
“Who’s there?” I asked, fully expecting not to receive a response.
The burly man poked his head around the archway, just enough that I saw the outline of his face, and then he returned to his previous position. I had to come up with a plan to lure him away from his spot. Didn’t guards always have keys? If he was close enough, I could knock him out, steal the keys, and risk fleeing this place.
I grabbed the bench and dragged it to the front of the cell, striking the door over and over again. Clank. Tiiing. The guard didn’t react. Clank. Tiiing. Clank. Tiiing. I paused for a few seconds, in case he decided to take action. But he didn’t. Clank. Tiiing. Clank. Tiiing. Clank. Tiiing.
“Enough!” he roared. Stomping through the narrow aisle in between the cells, he halted just outside my iron cage. We were nose to nose, and the heat from his breath warmed my face. “I can’t wait for the Ministry to—”
In one swift motion, I reached through the bars, latched on to his shirt, and jerked him toward me. Clanggg. His head hit the metal rods, and I cringed at how badly that must’ve hurt. Just in case the first attempt didn’t work, I repeated the action. His eyes rolled backward, and he fell to the floor in front of my cell. I inspected his waist for the key ring. It wasn’t immediately visible, but once I lifted his top, the keys became visible, resting against his stomach. Unhooking them from the belt loop on his jeans, I shuffled through the selection.
“Please be the one,” I begged. “Please, please, please.”
Jamming the key into the lock, I twisted, but it wouldn’t turn any further. The same happened with the next. And the one after that. Several attempts later, I managed to find a key that fit. I jostled the cell door, shoving the guard’s limp body out of the way.
Voices traveled up the hallway outside, echoing off the rock walls. I had a feeling they knew one of their own was out cold. Maybe they had security cameras—although, I never witnessed any when I was here before—or maybe they’re attuned mentality with all of their agents. Either way, they were coming for me, and I had to figure out a way to escape this place. Fast.
I leapt over the guard and ran toward the corridor. Pausing briefly, I listened for shouting and rapid, heavy footsteps, which were growing closer. But from which direction? If I chose the wrong way, I’d bump into the agents, and then I’d definitely be screwed. If I chose the correct way, however, I’d stand a greater chance of escape and keeping my imagination.
Straying down the passageway to my right, I crept past the flickering torches lighting the corridor. The voices resounded behind me. I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but I couldn’t celebrate just yet. At least, not until I was hidden and safe.
My biggest dilemma was figuring out how to get out of this parallel dimension. Dom had explained the Ministry wasn’t firmly grounded in my world, that they existed in a space similar to where I disappeared in my imagination. But using my ability wasn’t possible while I was inside these four walls. Did they even have an outdoor area, with grass and trees and a bright-blue sky, or were they all confined? Was the Ministry just one large, floating building, which nobody could escape?
I tried to be as quiet as possible, but my shoes splashed the puddles. The noise splattered off the stone walls, like I carried sloshing buckets of water. And it wasn’t as if I could avoid them entirely; the underbelly of the Ministry was one giant, damp labyrinth.
With the shouting reduced to a low rumble behind me, I stopped running long enough to catch my breath. A pinching sensation pricked my sides, and I bent forward at the waist, hands resting on top of my knees. Focusing on the cement floor didn’t help the fact that my vision waned. I squeezed my eyelids shut, then forced them open, over and over again.
“Don’t pass out,” I urged myself. “Don’t—”
Two pairs of shoes came into view in front of me—one too large to be a woman’s, and the other were a pair of pink, pointy-toed, three-inch heels.
“Kearly, what the hell is going on?” Tabitha asked.
Oh, no. Please tell me this is a just a bad dream. A really, really bad dream.
I straightened myself. My mom stood in front of me. So did Thellius. And if the gun pointed at Tabitha’s temple was any sort of warning, then I needed to keep my mouth shut and play along with whatever scheme he had in mind.
Thellius’ calm demeanor remained unfazed, like he was underwhelmed by the whole situation and didn’t care that one small slip could equal my mom’s death. But there was amusement behind his eyes, and if I hadn’t been paying attention, I would’ve missed the slight curl at the edge of his lips. “Let’s chat, shall we?”
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Mind's Eye (Mind's Eye, #1) Page 19
