The Delphi Resistance (The Delphi Trilogy Book 2)

by Rysa Walker

  “Thank you. Get an early start,” Magda says, glancing at Aaron. Then she reaches forward, and her side of the screen vanishes.

  Taylor gives the computer a half-assed salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

  On the surface, I can’t argue with Magda’s decision to wait on the kid in Georgia. At least not on logical grounds, to the extent that any of this can even be considered on logical grounds. But the entire thing just feels wrong, like we’re twisting fate or whatever. And that’s doubly true when I know there’s a very real possibility that Graham Cregg’s little brain thief plucked the information from that vision right out of my mind. They could be headed toward Georgia already.

  You’re the resident expert, Jaden. What do you think?

  Jaden considers the question briefly, and I can tell even before he answers that he’s bothered by the whole thing, too.

  Based on my experience with the visions, they’re right. What you saw happen will happen, so . . . waiting shouldn’t matter. Logically. But I’m with you. Feels wrong.

  “It just feels wrong,” Aaron says.

  I chuckle at his unknowing echo, and he gives me a puzzled look.

  “I agree,” I tell him. “But Magda’s bankrolling this expedition. The person with the money calls the shots.”

  “Yeah,” Taylor says. “Did you see her house? TV psychics must make a butt-load of money.”

  “Don’t start planning your future career,” Michele says. “Magda had money when they married. Her great-grandfather founded one of the largest engineering companies in Europe. And speaking of your future, Taylor, I’m in the process of registering you for an online school. You’ll have to start the semester over”—Taylor’s groan is loud and protracted, but her mom doesn’t even pause—“but at least you won’t be getting up at six in the morning or dealing with Mrs. Wembly every day.”

  “Nor will I be graduating with my friends or going to prom or doing any of the things that make school bearable.”

  Michele’s expression softens a bit. “It is what it is, Taylor. None of us asked for this.”

  Then Michele turns to arrangements for me and Deo. My situation is relatively simple, since my eighteenth birthday is just over four weeks away. After that I’m a free agent, and I’m certain the State of Maryland will be relieved that it is no longer required to keep tabs on me. I’m perfectly okay with going the GED route for my few remaining high school credits, and that means I’ll just need to catch up in my online college classes—classes that I haven’t even thought about since Cregg’s people started taking potshots at us.

  Deo, however, has several years remaining in the system. Michele tells me that they’re working to get Dr. Kelsey instated as his guardian, at least on a temporary basis. Baker—that’s Daniel’s former partner with the DC police—is backing up her claim that Deo and I are still in danger and shouldn’t return to Bartholomew House for the time being.

  “But . . . won’t that cause problems for Kelsey? A conflict of interest, or whatever?” I have a vivid memory of a session with Kelsey when I was six, just after we managed to evict Myron. Kelsey scooped me into her arms that day to comfort me and then spent the first few minutes at our next appointment apologizing for what would be considered an ethical lapse by others in her profession. If hugging a distraught six-year-old is a lapse, I’m pretty sure they don’t allow psychiatrists to become a patient’s guardian.

  Michele sighs. “Kelsey decided to retire. There were . . . questions . . . about her role in your departure from Bartholomew House, and rather than deal with the hassle, she’s transferring her patients to another therapist. She told us she was planning to retire soon, anyway.”

  That’s an exaggeration. She was planning to stop taking new patients and work part-time for the next few years. I feel horrible that she’s been dragged so completely into this mess that she was forced to quit early. And it really bothers me that I’m hearing this from Michele, rather than from Kelsey herself. I haven’t gone this long without talking to Kelsey in years.

  “Does she have a new number yet? If so, could you get her to call me? I don’t want her to quit her job, and I’m sure Deo—”

  Sam chuckles. “Kelsey told us you’d say that. She also told us to remind you this is her decision, that it’s already made, and that she’ll call you soon.”

  A guy in a lab coat rolls a gurney into the picture while Sam is talking. I can’t follow exactly what he’s saying to Michele, but as we wrap up the conversation, they begin moving Daniel onto the gurney to transport him for some sort of test or a therapy session.

  Watching them roll Daniel’s inert body out of the room is difficult for me, so I can only imagine how it’s affecting Daniel. What sort of tests are they running? What will the results mean for his long-term health? It’s hard to shake the feeling that we should be returning to that hospital immediately, before going to North Carolina or to Georgia.

  “Has your mom or Sam told you whether the authorities still think I had anything to do with the attempt on Daniel’s life?” I ask Aaron. “I was going to ask, but things wrapped up kind of quickly.”

  “Well, I’m sure Baker doesn’t think that. He knew Daniel was undercover with Delphi. I’m not even positive Daniel is still at the same hospital, so it may not—” Aaron sighs as Taylor interrupts him.

  “Different room, same hospital.”

  Aaron raises an eyebrow. “And you know this how?”

  “Pink scrubs on the guy who came in with the gurney. Those aren’t typical. Plus, why would they move Daniel from the shock trauma unit? He’s still in a frickin’ coma. But yeah, Magda was so busy giving marching orders for tracking down these so-called adepts that we didn’t get a chance to ask several questions, including the most important one of all.”

  She pauses for dramatic effect. Aaron sighs again and waits several beats before giving her the cue she wants. “And exactly what question is that?”

  “These kids she has us searching for can read minds,” Taylor says. “Even at a distance, given Cregg’s little trick with our phones. Or they can blow things up. Or see the future. And God only knows what else. So the most important question of all is this—if we find them, what the hell are we supposed to do with them?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Near Louisville, Kentucky

  November 1, 2019, 8:12 p.m.

  After dinner, I heat up a slice of pepperoni pizza—something else that Deo usually scarfs down in seconds—and put it on the tray along with more Tylenol and a bottle of Gatorade. He’s still not awake, still not interested in the food, but he’s now in his normal sleeping position, on his belly with the covers tugged over his head, and it looks more like he’s sleeping and less like he’s dying. That’s a good sign, right?

  I hold on to that thought and try to ignore the fact that the sharp burnt-air smell seems stronger than ever. Pulling down the covers a tiny bit, I press my hand against his neck. Still much too—

  nnnnNNNNNNN

  “—seen those hummingbird feeders, right? The ones that look like they have flowers around the bottom?”

  “Sure.”

  Aaron pauses, looking both ways before merging onto US 280, then continues. “Well, this feeder had a nail straight through one of those flowers. Looked like somebo—”

  NNNNNNnnnn

  I back away, leaning against the cabinets on the opposite wall as a knot of panic forms in my chest. Back at The Warren, Jaden said he never got the same vision twice, except for his very last vision, the one where Lucas shot him. That vision repeated over and over, and it’s how Jaden knew he wouldn’t get out of that testing room alive.

  Before I can even form the question, Jaden is front and center.

  Yeah, but . . . that vision ended with me taking a bullet. And it was a repeat of the full vision, every single time, not just a short clip. Like I said before, though, it’s your head, and your mileage may vary. It’s already varying—I mean, I got a vision almost every day, sometimes more than one a day,
and it’s been a lot longer than that for you. I really don’t think seein’ that tiny flash means you’re gonna—

  Daniel’s voice cuts in.

  Touch him again.

  What?

  Deo. Touch him again.

  I’m not following Daniel’s line of thought, but I go back over to the bed. As soon as my hand brushes against Deo’s skin, I hear the high-pitched whine. Then, I see the inside of the truck and once again hear Aaron talking about a hummingbird feeder with a nail through one of the flowers.

  I jump away from Deo this time, banging my elbow sharply against the closet.

  I’ll be damned. He’s an amp.

  Clenching my teeth, I rub my elbow. “What in God’s name is an amp, Daniel?”

  It’s not until I see Aaron and Taylor in the doorway that I realize I’ve spoken aloud.

  “Okay,” says Taylor. “I’ll bite. What is an amp? And while you’re at it, maybe you can explain why you’re talking to Daniel?”

  I could lie. Tell them I meant to say Deo. Or . . . something.

  That’s exactly what Daniel wants me to do, but I push both him and Jaden to the very back of my head and wall them off again. Not telling anyone that Daniel has taken up residence in my head was a lie of omission, but now we’re heading straight toward a lie of commission and . . . nope. Sorry. Not going there. Maybe if it was just Taylor. But I don’t like the hint of suspicion I’m seeing in Aaron’s eyes right now. This is as far as I can go with Daniel’s little charade, because I will not flat-out lie to Aaron.

  I motion toward the kitchen. “Let’s go in the other room, okay? Deo needs his rest.”

  “Daniel is in your head, isn’t he?” The question rushes out of Taylor’s mouth before I can even close the door. “You’ve been lying to us the entire—”

  I take a deep breath and sit down at the table. Aaron and Taylor follow suit.

  But Taylor is too angry to listen. “I don’t believe it. You’re lying! Daniel’s not dead, so there’s no way you could have picked up his . . . soul or whatever.”

  She’s clearly upset, so I ignore the fact that she’s completely reversed her argument in the span of less than ten seconds, first calling me a liar for hiding the fact that I’ve picked up Daniel and then calling me a liar for claiming that I did. Although I never actually made it to the claiming-I-did part. Taylor just filled in the blanks for herself.

  I rub my eyes with my palms and direct my comments toward Aaron, who seems willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. At least for now.

  “It wasn’t intentional, believe me. I picked Daniel up by accident when security was pushing me out of the room. I assumed he was dead. Hell, Daniel himself assumed he was dead. I didn’t have time to say anything when we were at the hospital, since we were trying to get out before security caught up with me. And when we found out they’d managed to bring him back . . . well, you’d have to ask him why he didn’t want to tell anyone then. I’ve never entirely understood . . .”

  I trail off, aware that I’ve opened the door for what Taylor’s about to ask, and I really didn’t want to do that. Daniel hates being in the back seat, and I don’t fully trust him to back off when time is up.

  “Fine, then,” Taylor says. “Let me ask him. If he’s really in there, that is. And don’t tell me he won’t come out, because I’m not buying it. Daniel would talk to me. He wouldn’t let me worry like this.”

  A wheedling tone creeps into her voice, and I realize Taylor is just being contrary. She has absolutely no doubt that her brother is in here—in fact, that last remark was aimed straight at him. Taylor has her oldest brother wrapped around her pinky every bit as much as she does her grandfather.

  I’m now realizing there was a very real silver lining to keeping Daniel a secret. He’s already proven himself incapable of keeping quiet inside my head, popping up with a comment any time it suits him. Now, however, any inclination he might have had to keep his presence hidden has vanished. I’m pretty sure he’ll be asking me to pass information along every few minutes. Even worse, he’ll want to cut out the middleman and join in the conversation himself, or more likely, lead the conversation.

  A loud thump echoes at the back of my head, but I ignore it, because I can feel Aaron watching me. I’m afraid to meet his eyes, afraid to face his anger, his disappointment. But when I force myself to look up, I find neither. He just looks concerned.

  “Come on, Tay,” he says to his sister. “Anna’s too smart to let you manipulate her. Personally, I think she’s telling the truth.”

  “You would.”

  “But,” Aaron continues, “if you need proof, I think we can get it without forcing Anna to let Daniel . . .” He trails off.

  “I usually describe it as moving to the front. It’s a bit like the difference between driving a car and riding in the back.”

  Of course, Daniel and Jaden aren’t exactly in the back seat right now, but I don’t go into that. I’m pretty sure that when I put a hitcher behind the wall, it’s more like riding in the trunk, and I don’t really want to set Taylor off again by making her think her brother is being abused.

  Aaron glances at Taylor, hesitating before asking his next question. “Does this mean Daniel is dead?”

  I shrug. “No clue. He seems to think it might mean that, but . . . he doesn’t know either. I wanted to go back in, to see if we could . . . make a transfer, I guess. But there was no time. And I’m not even sure it’s possible. All of my other hitchers left of their own accord. Like Molly.”

  Except for Myron. But I’m not going to discuss Myron right now, so I shift back to Daniel.

  “None of my other hitchers had a body to move back into. So, even if we go back to the hospital—”

  “Is that how you knew the password to the flash drive?” Aaron asks.

  I open my mouth to respond, but Taylor beats me to it. “Of course it is. I even caught her with the pen, but she gave me some bullshit about the number being smudged.”

  “I’m sorry, Taylor. This wasn’t my decision to make.”

  “Oh, gee, where have I heard that excuse before? First about Molly and now Daniel. But I have a news flash for you, Anna. It’s your head, your mouth, and you decide what comes out of it. Maybe Aaron doesn’t mind you lying to him, but you don’t get a free pass from me.”

  Taylor slams the door so hard when she leaves that the entire camper shakes.

  “Should we go after her?” I ask.

  Aaron slumps down in his chair and closes his eyes. “Let her blow off some steam. She’s just upset about Daniel, and Taylor always needs someone to blame when she’s hurting. I keep hoping she’ll grow out of it, but I’m beginning to wonder. So . . . what did Daniel mean when he said Deo was an amp?”

  I’d almost forgotten the comment that started this whole drama. I want the answer to that question, too, but my face must show how reluctant I am to deal with Daniel right now.

  “Is he causing trouble?” Aaron asks. “Not that I have any idea what I’d do if he is, but . . . hey, it was difficult enough when I had to share a bedroom with Daniel. I can’t even imagine having him share my head.”

  “I don’t think he’s trying to cause problems. He’s just . . . bored. Restless. He keeps talking when I’m trying to think or . . .”

  “Ohhhh. That was Daniel interrupting us last night, not Jaden.” He rolls his eyes when I nod. “Figures.”

  I pull out a few bricks in the wall, and Daniel is, of course, right behind it.

  You should have let me talk to Taylor. It would make things easier for her.

  Maybe it would have been easier if we’d just told her from the beginning.

  If I’d known you were going to let it slip like that, maybe I would have.

  Just tell me what you meant, okay? So that I can get this damn wall back up, just in case Cregg’s snoop is poking around. What is an amp?

  Exactly what it sounds like. An amplifier. A signal booster. Must be the same formula they used on that Eas
tern European girl a few months before I arrived.

  Jaden asks Daniel something that I miss. I really don’t like when they do that. It’s similar to the sensation you get when there’s something you can’t quite remember, then it vanishes. I’m tempted to ask Jaden to repeat what he said, but Daniel barrels ahead.

  Yeah, that’s why they sealed off the north wing. Ashley heard that they’d planned to test another kid with that same serum, but they decided to wait until they could find some way to keep her out of range of the other adepts. But then the girl died, and it was back to the—

  What? You said the reactions weren’t fatal.

  I said usually not fatal. Anna, I didn’t have any idea that they were testing the amplify serum again.

  What was her name? The girl who died?

  I don’t know. It was before I was assigned to The Warren. I was only undercover with them for a few months, and there was a lot that I didn’t have access to.

  Daniel’s voice fades away as Jaden moves to the front.

  Sonia. Her name was Sonia. No clue on the last name. She came maybe six, seven, months after I did, and she was a blank. That means she didn’t have any psychic tricks goin’ on. Just plain folks, you know? But then the Fudds juiced her up with somethin’, and the other girls roomin’ near her said it was like they were on speed. Sonia walks in the room, and suddenly Maria’s pickin’ up thoughts from people way outside The Warren, even when she’s not tryin’. It’s like she can’t turn it off. And one of the Zippos . . . those are the kids who start fires? She nearly torched the place, even though she could barely toast a marshmallow before that. I never went near Sonia, but I heard some wild stories about that a week or so after they amped her up.

  I send Jaden a silent thank-you for the info and turn to Aaron. “Call your mom. See if she can find any information on Daniel’s flash drive about a girl named Sonia. Or anything about an amplifying serum.”

  Feeling helpless, I go into Deo’s room and sit on the floor, watching him. The front door opens, and I hear Aaron and Taylor talking, but whatever they’re saying washes over me, unprocessed.