In unison, Karen dove into each person’s mind; Morgan included. She wasn’t able to pick and choose whom she affected. What she did to one, she did to all. Her power was too great to mete out in small doses.
Tapped into the minds of so many, she unleashed their fears like demons from Hell. Not a soldier was able to stand, all of them falling to their knees and begging for the nightmares to end. Karen held strong, continuing to pour on the pain; her body fueled by hate. Screams filled the countryside, bringing joy to her ears.
Entranced, having become a different person, Karen stood with her arms wide as if welcoming all before her. She continued reveling in the peoples’ agony, knowing that their pain was justified and that all the suffering they’d brought to others was coming full circle. The determination in her heart to keep up the onslaught until every man and woman was dead or begging to be killed far exceeded her body’s ability to maintain the energy necessary to complete the task. Many of the soldiers would remain fractured, their psyches forever damaged. Along with her energy, Karen’s anger began to fade, until she could no longer maintain her connections. She fell to the ground, her body drained of energy. Closing her eyes and unable to do more, she passed out.
***
Sometime later, minutes or hours she did not know, Karen awoke. Her head ached, but she remembered everything. At first, with her eyes still closed, she wondered if she had dreamed the whole thing, but with the images so vivid in her mind, she knew it was not so. Opening her eyes, she sat up and scanned the battlefield.
Many of the soldiers writhed on the ground in agony. A few men staggered about, their minds scrambled and unable to produce coherent thoughts. She’d gone to the darkest place possible, and while there, she had loved it.
Summoning the last of her strength, she reached into her pocket and grabbed two candy bars, hoping they would supply her with enough energy to complete the mission. With each swallow, she began to feel better. Taking a moment, she felt her mood change, becoming positive again.
Rising to her feet, Karen walked over to the filling valve, opened the lid, and dropped the phone-bomb inside. She paused. How many other men inside were like Paul? How many, if any at all, were innocent? Paul had said nothing about killing anyone he liked or worried about. He was the exception, she figured. This was the only way to ensure The Murphy Unit went away, forever.
She headed toward the gate leading out, before realizing that running was a better option, wanting to be as far from the place as possible. Not because of the bomb, but because the place was evil. She wanted to blame it for her actions, for her reveling in the pain of others, but the truth was she did it willingly, on her own.
She reached the gate, but it was closed; the fence still pulsing with electricity. How was she going to get out? She tried tapping into the two guards lying on the ground, but they were out cold. Then she remembered Hank. She couldn’t leave him. Spinning around, an idea came to her.
She ran to the truck and opened the passenger door, then went to Hank. He was out cold, his mind still reeling from what she had done. Luckily for her, the man was small.
She crouched down and was able to get him over her shoulder. Using a fireman’s carry, she hauled him to the truck, then set him down inside the cab. Making sure he was secure so as not to fall out of the cab, Karen ran around to the driver’s side and climbed in. She grabbed onto Hank’s shirt and jimmied him into a fully seated position and secured his seat belt.
Karen started the truck, hoping that what she was about to do would work. She pushed in the clutch and put the rig in first gear. Hitting the gas, she drove in a wide circle until the truck was facing the gate. She made sure that none of Hank’s body parts were touching metal then hit the gas. The engine growled, vibrating her bones. She managed to get the truck into second gear before crashing it into the gate. Removing her hands from the steering wheel and foot from the gas pedal, Karen let the truck smash through on its own thinking the rubber tires would be enough to insulate her and Hank from the electrical current.
Sparks flew and Karen’s ears filled with the wild buzz of electricity as the current lost its connection. The truck began to slow and Karen feared being stuck in the vehicle unable to escape without getting electrocuted to death. Without thinking, she hit the gas pedal to keep the rig moving forward, and sighed with relief when she wasn’t fried.
Clear of the fence, she drove onward, turning onto Walter Road, and eventually coming to where Paul waited with the Camaro. With Hank still passed out, she left him and the rig on the side of the road.
“You look like shit,” Paul told her.
Karen smiled, grateful that he was okay and seemingly unaffected by what had happened back at the compound. He must’ve been outside the range of her abilities.
“I feel like shit, too,” she said. “We need to get to Morgan. He’s somewhere in the woods back by the compound.”
“What happened?” Paul asked. “Why isn’t he here with you?”
“It’s a long story, and I’ll gladly explain it all later, but for now we need to reach him.”
A loud, ground-shaking explosion erupted over the land, followed by smaller but no-less impressive blasts. A bloom of fire and smoke shot into the air from the direction of the Murphy Compound. Karen and Paul looked at each other.
“It blew,” he said with a look of disbelief on his face. Then his expression changed, his gaping mouth becoming a smile. He grabbed Karen, hugging her.
“How…?” she began. “How could it have exploded? Unless Morgan…”
“He must’ve set it off,” Paul said. “He’s okay!”
“So it would appear.”
She smiled, her stomach in knots; the sensation of joy and pain spiraling around inside her. She remembered what she’d seen when she was inside Morgan’s mind. He had been about to kill her. She saw him crying, fighting against himself, hating himself, but doing it for the greater good, and for her.
“Karen,” Paul said, shaking her. “Snap out of it. We need to leave. The police and fire department are going to be on their way; hell, maybe even the National Guard. We can’t be here when they arrive. Morgan will find his way home.”
Karen came out of her daze. “You drive,” she told Paul, her mind in too much turmoil to concentrate. She was free now; truly free. The Murphy Unit was gone, blown sky-high. All of their research and data was destroyed. She thought she’d feel ecstatic, and in a way she did, but she needed to see Morgan. They had unfinished business. He had to know that she’d seen inside his mind, known what he was about to do. She felt a tinge of panic, wondering if she’d ever see him again or if he’d maybe taken off, too ashamed to face her. No, that wasn’t his style. He would come home, and when he did, he and Karen would talk.
Chapter 60
Paul and Karen made it back to Morgan’s house without incident. They passed a few police cars and a fire truck headed in the direction of the compound, but it was the numerous wailing of sirens assaulting the atmosphere that made them feel as if a national emergency had been declared.
Karen was exhausted by the time she reached the house, but sleep wasn’t an option. Besides being there for Paul, she needed to be awake when Morgan arrived.
She waited with Paul for another hour before heading upstairs to one of the spare rooms where she surrendered to sleep.
She awoke sometime later to find Morgan sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. If he’d been caught in the blast, which she figured he had been, he didn’t look it. He smelled like Irish Spring soap and was wearing different clothing than when she’d last seen him.
“Hi,” she said, sitting up and wiping the tiredness from her eyes.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, not looking at her.
“Fine,” she answered. Taking a moment, she stretched her limbs. “I was worried you might not come back.”
Morgan turned toward her. He looked surprised, his eyebrows raised.
“I live here,” he said. “Wh
y wouldn’t I come home? Did you think I was dead?”
She frowned, shaking her head. “No, that’s not why I thought I might never see you again.”
“Ah,” he said, smiling. “That.”
“What?”
“You know what,” he said, looking down. “I know you were inside my head, Karen. Initially I thought I was back in the lab with the priest. He was going to turn me back into a vampire. Once you let go and I recovered, I knew it was you who had feared me. I didn’t understand why you had done it, or how you were even able to do what you did. I figured you knew what I was up to and attacked, hoping to stop me from pulling the trigger.”
“That’s not why,” she said.
“I know,” he told her, looking up. Their eyes met but only for a moment. Looking away again, he said, “Paul told me that with the serum he gave you, you were able to tap into multiple targets; that you had no control over the area of influence. He said you felt a rage inside, making you want to hurt as many people as possible.”
“I was dangerous. I couldn’t control myself. I was like a rabid animal.”
She remembered what she’d done and how much joy she experienced. Maybe it was the serum’s fault, but her feelings, during that time, still frightened her.
“I’m glad you did what you did.”
“Why?” She knew why, but for some reason she wanted to hear it from him.
“Because I might’ve killed you.”
Karen placed her hand on Morgan’s. He didn’t pull away. She saw a tear fall down his cheek and felt her heart lurch.
“I wouldn’t have blamed you,”
“I know it was the right thing to do at the time, but…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself.”
Morgan stood up quickly, his body tense. Wiping a hand through his hair, he said, “Yes, I do.”
Karen got to her knees, shuffling closer to Morgan, and latched onto his arm.
“No you don’t,” she told him. “I was inside your head. I saw everything. I know how difficult it was for you, but it would’ve been the right thing to do.” Karen felt tears welling in her eyes and let go of him.
Their eyes connected. “I would have gone through with it and regretted it for the rest of my long life.”
“Whatever would have happened doesn’t matter,” she said. “I know how much I mean to you, Morgan.”
“I’ll never leave you.”
Karen wanted to hug him so badly. As though sensing her desire, he squeezed her with as close to a hug as she would get.
Chapter 61
With the alien spacecraft still out there, the mission was far from done. But with the immediate threat gone and the need for a little rest, Karen and Morgan left Poughkeepsie and headed south to Florida.
Morgan had socked away millions of dollars over the years, making finances a non-issue. Karen felt bad for having none of her own, The Murphy Unit erasing every bit of her existence. Morgan arranged for a new ID and Social Security number through Elise.
For Morgan, there was still the issue of the priest that had changed him. The man, or at least his sect, was still out there somewhere. Had they gone into hiding, and if so, why? Paul, who was with his daughter in Ohio, said he would begin looking into it and get back to Morgan with anything he found.
Karen and Morgan weren’t able to fully relax during their time in Florida, the reality of what still needed to be done hanging over their heads like a dark cloud. But together, with help from Paul, they would be okay, for they had the one thing they needed to survive.
Love.
THE END
Acknowledgements
I would like to acknowledge the following people for their help and support with this novel. Sandy Shelonchik, for reading, telling me what didn’t work, reading again, then putting up with me while I went through the book a hundred times. Peter Giglio, for listening to part of my tale, then taking the time to read the rest of it to make sure it was perfect for Evil Jester Press; and for the fantastic cover. Gregory L. Norris—editing maestro. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the stellar job you did. Tears of No Return is a stronger piece because of you. You really are a pro, my friend. To T. Patrick Rooney and D.g. Sutter for accepting “The Stranger” into Alienology: Tales from Void, which was the original short story Tears of No Return was birthed from.
There are a lot of people I wish to thank for various reasons, but mostly because they have been ultra-kind and supportive.
Joe McKinney, Eric S. Brown, David Dunwoody, Jonathan Maberry, Charles Day, Ronald Mafli, Alan Spencer, Benjamin Kane Ethridge, Kristopher Rufty, Mike Evans, Kevin Sheehan, John Everson, Jonny M. Kelley, Aaron Warwick Dries, Anita Eva, Craig Saunders, Suzanne Robb, Bill Gagliani, Jeff Strand, Sean Page. And of course, AnthoCon, where this novel was discovered!
Tears of No Return Page 25
