It’s not real, she thought. It’s Braden. He’s doing this in his sleep.
“Hey,” said the voice next to her. It had softened now. No more shouting. But the urgency hadn’t left it. Something was wrong. “You okay?”
Val turned toward Asa. Sweat dripped down his cheeks. Or were those tears? Why would he be crying, though? She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.
“Dammit, Val,” he said. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. He tasted exactly like he had before. In Iran. He put his hand on the back of her head, the fingers lacing into her short hair, and kissed her hard, taking her bottom lip between his. It was like the first time he had kissed her. Desperate, pleading, almost frantic. The breath through his nostrils felt as hot on her skin as did the heat from the burning Dragonfly in the street outside.
Burning.
Fire.
Heat.
Metal and dirt and concrete.
Shit.
Val drew back from Asa and slapped him. The sound—crack—echoed off of the walls inside the building. His face turned aside with the blow.
“What are you doing?” she shouted.
For a second, Asa didn’t move. He stared at the ground, his eyes wide. Val half-expected him to retaliate with a punch. She had slapped him hard. She could see the outline of her fingers in red on the side of his face, and the palms of her hand stung.
“There she is,” Asa said, turning toward her. With a shock, she realized he was grinning even as his eyes watered. “Are you ready to go now? Or do I have to do something even more dramatic to wake you up?”
“You son of a bitch,” Val said, her stomach turning with anger. But was there something else there, too? Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she wanted to slap him again.
“Carry him,” she said, standing up. “We’re going to get my husband.”
34
His head hurt. His shoulder hurt worse. All they had given him for the pain was hydrocodone. A strap around his waist held him down to the bed—not one of the velcro straps that hospitals typically used to keep elderly patients in their beds, though. This strap was made of thick rubber like a tie-down strap for a trailer, and he guessed that each end was bolted or locked somehow to the underside of the bed.
They had left his hands free, but that was small comfort. His left arm was unusable. And even if he could handle the pain and slide out from under the strap, a guard stood just outside the door to his room holding a rifle.
The doctor who had come to see him had left when Kim wouldn’t give him the answers he wanted. He’d struck Kim as either hungover or sick, and he’d seemed more than happy to leave him alone. He was going to bring someone named Celina in to probe his mind.
It didn’t surprise Kim that his son wasn’t the only telepath in the world. But the thought of someone other than Braden looking into his mind—that made his stomach twist into knots. A stranger in his head.
Voices spoke at his door. Through the glass and the blinds Kim could see the guard move aside for a woman, who opened the door and stepped inside.
“Good morning,” she said. Like Bowen, she wore a white lab coat and scrubs. But unlike Bowen, her movement and expression spoke of alertness and professionalism. She carried her shoulders high, and her face wore the mild expression of a doctor who had brought her patient good news. For a moment, Kim almost felt at home. “I’m Dr. Simmons. How’s your shoulder feeling?”
“Go to hell,” said Kim.
She raised her eyebrows.
“I understand,” she said. “I’d be pissed right now, too—”
But Kim was done with this.
“Just shut up,” he said. “I don’t have anything to talk to you about. Send in your telepath and let her dig around inside me if you want to. Take what you’re going to take. Whatever you do, you’ll never catch my wife or my son.”
Simmons only stood there like a good doctor, ready to take the tongue lashing that her patient wanted to deal her.
“Do you hear me?” shouted Kim, his shoulder throbbing like a son of a bitch. He strained to sit up, but the strap would barely stretch. “Get out! I don’t have anything to say to you.”
Simmons looked at her tablet, tapping and swiping something across the screen.
“I just wanted to ask if you’re hungry,” she said finally.
Kim laughed, the sound a little more manic than he might have expected, maybe a little deranged, even. That made him laugh even harder, and somehow, the pain in his shoulder made it difficult to stop.
Simmons watched him through the laughing fit, her face serene.
“No,” he said finally, waving a hand at her. “No, I definitely don’t want to eat anything.”
“If you’re sure,” she said, noting something on her tablet.
Kim heard a door open down the hall, and then there was a buzzing like a small hand tool. Now footsteps. The noises came closer.
“In that case, we’ll get started,” she said, still looking at her tablet. “I usually have to reassure people that this doesn’t hurt.” She glanced at him. “But I guess you’ve done this kind of thing before.”
In all his life, Kim had almost never had to be a patient, not even when he was a child. Now he understood why so many people hated going to see a doctor.
The buzzing had come very close now, and Kim knew what the source was before he saw it. Dr. Simmons stepped to one side as a drone backed slowly into the room, its small propellers whirring. Next came a young woman, probably in her early twenties, wearing a blue jump suit. She had a buzz cut and the pale skin of someone who saw very little sunlight. She wore a wry smile. The smile of someone who knows things.
A voice spoke in his head. Hello, Kim.
A second drone came through the door behind her, followed by the doctor who had worked on Kim’s shoulder. He thought that her name was Mwangi. She had done good work on him. He’d seen the stitching and doubted there’d be much of a scar.
Finally, the guard took up a position in the doorway, this time facing into the room.
“Dr. Hara,” said Simmons, raising her voice over the sound of the drones, “this is Celina.”
She pulled a chair from the corner of the room to the front of the bed. Still smiling like the only person who is in on all the secrets, Celina turned the chair around and sat in it backwards with her legs straddling the back. The two drones took up positions on either side of the room.
Simmons crouched in front of Celina.
“Celina,” she said. “This is Dr. Kimiya Hara. His wife and son are on the run from the Department of Homeland Security, and we need to find them for their own safety and the safety of others.”
If Celina heard any of this, she showed no indication of it. She stared right past Simmons at the wall on the other side of the room. Kim had treated patients who were on the autism spectrum, and Celina’s expression made him wonder. But no, that wasn’t right. Celina was purposefully looking past the doctor. This was a woman who had control wherever she went.
“I want you to look into Dr. Hara’s mind,” continued Simmons. “I want you to try to see if there’s anything that will help us find out where the boy and his mother might go. Their names are—”
“Val and Braden,” said Celina, still smiling as she stared at the wall.
Simmons smiled. “That’s right. I should have known you’d know already. I want you to reassure Dr. Kimiya that we do not harm—”
But while Simmons went on, Celina’s voice spoke in Kim’s head.
Hello. You have a son. He’s like me.
Yes, Kim thought. He’s like you.
That’s good for him, thought Celina. You might not think so, since I’m stuck in a prison with a bunch of mad scientists. But this ability is the best thing that ever happened to me.
Pause. Celina was looking inside him.
You love him.
Yes.
Another pause. Simmons finished speaking and stood back to let Celina do what she’d asked.
How do they control you? thought Kim.
The drones. The people who fly them are somewhere out of my range. They keep an eye on us and put us to sleep when we do naughty things. I neeeeeever do that sort of thing, though.
Braden wasn’t the only one whose thoughts reflected the way that he spoke.
I see, thought Kim.
Another pause. Simmons, Mwangi, and the guard all watched Celina, who went on looking at the wall.
It’s not very bad here, said the voice in his head. They feed us good, and I get to mess with people.
‘Mess with people?’ How?
Now Celina’s smile widened, and her eyes crinkled. In Kim’s head, a thought flashed, unbidden. He and Val were in the shower together, her back pressed against him, and his arms wrapped around her stomach.
Kim drove the thought away.
Doing that won’t keep me from seeing it, Celina thought. I can see everything.
That’s private.
You asked. She’s pretty sexy. You’re lucky. But I can see that you appreciate her. Not like most men.
You do that to other people?
For a second, he thought he saw a shadow cross Celina’s face. Was it shame?
Do you ever get to leave this place? he thought when she didn’t answer.
Never.
And you hate it.
No, not really. I have a lot of fun here. And they’re about to let me join the CIA.
The CIA? What?
Kim couldn’t help reacting physically to this. His hands rose, and his head jerked to one side. Simmons noticed this and looked at Celina with suspicion. “Celina?”
Celina held up a finger at Simmons. “Wait,” she said.
Now her voice spoke in Kim’s head again.
I see what they’re asking me to look for. You have a sister in Texas, but they already know that. You’ve talked about leaving the country. To Mexico. Or... Chile? Why in the world would you want to go there? Oh. You’ve heard... rumors about secret communities of people who have kids... like people used to. But you don’t really know where your wife would go on the run with your son.
No, I don’t know. I just know that she won’t let anything happen to Braden.
Bowen had probably thought that all his confidence in Val was just bluffing, but Celina would know the truth.
Have they told you anything about them?
Kim’s heart leaped. No. Do you know something?
Just that she’s been fighting. I think that she stole...
Celina closed her eyes. Simmons watched her. The doctor’s eyes were wide, almost as if she were willing Celina to find what she wanted.
She stole a hover plane. A Dragonfly. Somebody named Fordham is helping her.
Fordham? A pit opened up in Kim’s gut at the thought of that name. Surely not.
Wow, they shot down another Dragonfly. She killed a lot of people. Your wife is a badass. They’ve put out doctored footage of her that makes her look like a terrorist.
Who is Fordham?
I don’t know. Some kind of police. Homeland Security, maybe. Or FBI.
Kim’s heart began to beat faster. Surely it couldn’t be him. “Fordham” was a common enough name.
Oh, Celina’s voice said. Oh, I see.
Stop it. That’s private, too.
I do love a good love-triangle, though.
Now she grinned.
“Celina,” said Simmons.
Celina waved at the woman as if shooing away a fly.
A little jealousy and insecurity, said her voice in Kim’s head. Men get so worked up when they’re jealous, but it makes them so horny, too. Isn’t that screwed up? Does it do that to you, too? You never want to bang your wife as much as you do when you’re afraid she’s been banging somebody else. And you’ll hate yourself for feeling that way. But when you think about her and another man together—
Stop it.
—you see it so vividly, see every little change in her face, every twitching muscle, the way she winces with pleasure, the way she opens her mouth to scream but can’t make a sound because she’s wound up so tight that it’s hard to breathe. She could never be that way with you—
Stop.
You see the way she bites her lip while she digs her nails into his shoulder blades. And you can almost hear what she’s thinking: ‘God, he goes so deep.’ And finally she gasps and moans. And you know that you can’t make her feel that way.
Stop. It. Now.
You hate yourself for it, but you can’t help feeling a little stiff while you watch her get—
“I said stop it!” shouted Kim. He realized only then that he was panting. His hospital gown stuck to his skin with sweat. His shoulder throbbed.
Celina’s expression changed. For a second, Kim thought he saw something like sympathy there, though it looked odd on her face. She shrugged.
Sorry. I just can’t help myself sometimes.
“Dammit, Celina,” said Simmons. “We should have brought Francis over. Go tell Bowen that—”
“Fine, fine,” said Celina, waving at Simmons again. “Just a sec. Here we go.”
Is there anything I can tell them? her voice said, almost apologetic. Anything that would throw them off your wife’s trail?
You’re... thought Kim. Why would you do that?
Come on! Is there something you want me to say? Some lie?
I don’t know. It doesn’t sound like—
But another man appeared at the door. This one was in his sixties, heavyset, graying, with a thick mustache. He glanced first at Celina and then at Kim.
“You’re done here,” he said.
“What?” said Simmons.
You’re a good man, said Celina’s voice in Kim’s head.
“Get her back to her room,” the man said, his voice gruff.
I know that your wife loves you.
“We haven’t even—” began Simmons.
“We don’t need her anymore,” growled the man. “We’re about to have exactly what we’re looking for.”
How could you possibly know that? thought Kim. She’s not here for you to read her mind.
Celina smiled sadly as the guard pulled her to her feet. The drones fell into position on either side of her.
I know because I just read his mind. She’s on her way here to save you.
35
Asa told her to land in a small field just north of the compound. The clearing had a small hill, which was good because it meant that the ground wasn’t too soft to land. She put the Dragonfly down at the top of the hill and killed the engines. The quiet felt unreal. Through the night-vision in the Dragonfly’s windshield, Val could see tall grass swaying, pine and oak trees rising past the top of the hill, and over those, the lights of the Institute.
Asa stood in the doorway to the cargo bay.
“Ready?” he said.
Val stared at the lights shining from the compound, wondering again if she was making a terrible mistake. She was taking Braden right into the place that she’d protected him from all his life.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said. “I hope...”
“You hope what?” said Asa. He put a hand on her shoulder.
Val’s arm and neck tingled at his touch. But she thought of the way Kim’s strong surgeon’s hands had felt on her back the first time they made love. That had been when they’d stayed at Lake Martin. She could still smell the cabin’s wood walls and see the dim moonlight that had come through the windows, which they had left open on their first evening so that they could smell the water and the trees. The idea that someone might hear them through the windows that night had made their lovemaking all the more delicious. How young she had been then, even after the experience of war in the Middle East.
“I just want to go and save my husband,” she said.
H
is hand squeezed her shoulder and let go.
“You know, I loved you,” he said. “Even after I went home and made things better with my wife, I didn’t stop loving you.”
“Dammit, Asa,” said Val, turning toward him. “Don’t do this—”
But a sharp sting in the side of her neck cut her off. Val let out a small yelp and instinctively she swiped at her neck. Asa drew back, an injection pen in his hand.
“What did...?” she said, but already her head felt a little dizzy. “You son of a bitch.”
She stood, grasping the frame of the passage into the cargo bay for balance, and staggered toward Asa, taking a swing at him. The sloppy punch went wide, though, and Asa stepped backwards toward the tethered hoverbikes. In his chair, Braden still slept.
“You already injected him again,” she said, gesturing at her son. “That’s why he’s still out.”
“I’m sorry,” said Asa. “You don’t believe me, but I really am sorry.”
“You... you shot down a Dragonfly,” Val said, stumbling toward him. “You... you killed... your own...”
Asa stepped toward her, his eyes almost pleading. Val swung for him again, but he blocked the punch easily with his forearm.
“You’d be amazed at what I can do these days,” he said, his eyes almost pleading with her. “You don’t understand how important your son is. I couldn’t let anyone kill him, not Homeland Security, and not you either. Once you had that gun pointed at him, the only thing I could do to save him was to give you a chance to escape. And after that, they would have killed you—and him—on sight. I couldn’t let that happen either. I had to keep helping you get away.” Now he looked down, as if ashamed. “No, not ‘get away.’ Get here. Exactly where your son belongs. I got him here alive. That was the mission. And all I had to do was shoot down a Dragonfly. Besides, what better way to get you to trust me than to kill my own men?”
Val stumbled, and Asa caught her in his arms.
“Trust me,” he said. “I won’t get in trouble with my bosses. The government isn’t like the military. In the military, we had principles. Rules.”
“You son of a bitch,” she tried to scream, but it only came out as a whine.
The Way Out Page 19
