by Amanda Uhl
“Grace! It’s about time you call me back. Where have you been? Never mind…I…I…something is the matter with me.”
Claire didn’t take the time to say hello. Grace recognized the note of panic in her voice. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know. I’m…having trouble remembering things. I mean I couldn’t remember how Tom and I met. And Tom thinks it’s the wedding jitters…but, well, it’s not like me to forget important details like that. And today at work I couldn’t remember the name of the new designer purses we got in to tell a customer. I mean, I knew the name last night, when I put them on the shelf, but today, I couldn’t think of it. It was horrible.”
Claire was on the verge of hysteria. Could she and her sister be suffering from the same malady?
“I mean, I’ve always had a great memory, you know? Tom always tells me I’m blessed with both brains and beauty because of how quick I remember my lines. What’s the matter with me?” She was softly crying.
“I wonder…Claire does it feel like your mind is fuzzy? Like the thought is clear, but you can’t bring it in?”
“Yeeess.” Claire sobbed. “How do you knowww?”
“Because whatever you have, I have it too.”
“Really? You mean, you can’t remember stuff either? Like what?”
“Like the client I had dinner with last night.”
“Wow. That’s not like you.”
“Tell me about it. I must also be suffering from paranoia, too, because I’m at the grocery store, and I could swear someone followed me here.”
“What do you mean? Someone in the store? Maybe you swiped the last jar of pickles.”
“Not on foot, in a van.”
“Why would someone be following you in a van? That’s scary. You should call the police.”
“Am I being paranoid—like maybe it’s a part of my overall brain malfunction, or I inherited the famous Woznisky schizophrenia from Mom?”
“Well, my brain isn’t working either, but if I thought someone was following me, I’d go to the police. Aren’t they around the corner from where you live? That was one of the reasons you bought your condo, wasn’t it? Grace…are you still there?”
Grace had nearly dropped the phone. She had pulled out while they were talking and was heading slowly home when she noticed the gray van again in her rearview mirror. “Yeah, I’m here. Listen, they’re back…I…I’m going to take your advice. I’ll drive to the police station and make a report. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
“There really is someone following you in a van?”
“Yeah.” She said it a bit breathlessly, nerves thrumming.
“Oh, God. Be careful. Go straight to the station and don’t leave until they get to the bottom of it. Don’t go home. Maybe you ought to go and stay with Mom and Glenn?”
Grace shuddered. She loved her mother, but the thought of staying for any length of time with her was enough to cause a panic attack. “I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the station. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay…don’t forget. Write it down in case your brain gives out. I’m doing the same.”
“Good idea.” Grace laughed. “I’m sure it’s my imagination. But I’m nervous enough, I’m going to check it out.”
Ten minutes later Grace pulled into the station. She got out and looked around, making sure to lock the doors. The gray van had veered off shortly before the turn and was nowhere in sight. She took a couple of deep breaths, squared her shoulders, and hurriedly walked into the building to make her report. The lady at the front desk was on the phone and kept her waiting a while until she finished the call. Eventually, she ended the call and looked at Grace. “What can I do for you?”
“Um…I…someone, a stranger, was tailing me in their gray van. I noticed them following me several times throughout the day. I didn’t want to take any chances so I drove here.”
“Did you get a license plate number?”
“Um…no. I’m sorry.”
“Well, I can take your statement, but there’s not much we can do without a license plate number.”
Her voice was monotone, but intuitively Grace knew if she could read her mind, she would hear the officer call her a dumb shit. Why didn’t she get a license plate number? “Can someone at least follow me home? I live a few streets over.”
“Let me see if there’s a patrol car nearby.” She grunted, disappeared for a moment, and when she came back, gave Grace a short nod. “Officer Mack is on his way over and has agreed to escort you. In the meantime, let’s get your statement.”
Grace gave the woman her name, address and phone number and a description of the van and any other details she could remember. When she had finished, she sat in the waiting area until Officer Mack arrived and followed her back to her condo. The gray van was noticeably absent all the way home.
The long day of shopping followed by the panic attack had been exhausting. Grace was snoring as soon as her head hit the pillow. Moments later, Grace wished fervently she could come awake. But it was too late. The nightmare had returned.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nightmare
Grace was sinking in a pit of mud. Once again, she was on the beach, but this time she was drowning with no one to save her. The stranger was standing over her, a small smile on his face, his body blotting out the sun. He did not offer to rescue her. Instead, the force of his gaze seemed to send her deeper into the earth. “I have your sister, my dear.”
The endearment lent a deadly aspect to his words and yet, they were strangely familiar. Had he said them to her before? She struggled to remember. “She is not nearly as strong as you.” He sounded puzzled and a bit disappointed. He shook his head sadly. “Too easy by far. She gave me everything I desire. I’m afraid there will be no wedding for Claire. So sad.”
Grace looked at him blankly. What had the bastard done to her sister? Grace wanted to scream for help, but every breath caused her to sink deeper into slime.
“It doesn’t have to be that way, you know. I could see your sister walks down the aisle. It all depends on you, my girl. Your sister’s happiness in exchange for a small portion of your mind. You won’t even miss it.”
She stared at him in silent horror. In moments, the earth would cover her mouth and nose and it would be all over. She fought to keep calm but was losing the battle. If she had to go out, she would give him what he wanted in hopes he would leave her sister alone. She loved her sister and wanted to see her happy. She let out a small shriek when two hands grabbed her from behind and hauled her out of the muck.
“Stay calm and let me do the talking.” Her savior mumbled, stepping in front of her to face her tormentor. “Let the girl go.” He called across the chasm.
“No need to shout,” the deadly voice said. “I can hear you clearly.”
“It’s me you want, not her. Let her go, and you can have me.”
“Really? You would give in that easily? She means that much to you?” Grace’s tormentor was clearly enjoying himself. “You’ve got it all wrong, you know. It’s not you I want. Grace is mine. I discovered her long before you, which gives me prior claim.”
Once again, something about the way the madman spoke sounded familiar to Grace. He must have been familiar to her helper, too, because he stared at the lunatic for a moment as if putting the pieces of an intricate puzzle together.
“You were after Grace all along. Why? She’s innocent. What can she possibly offer you? Unless…”
“You don’t even understand her true value, do you?” He let out a sinister laugh, pacing on the other side of the pit. “I’ve had the chance to poke around in her mind a bit. She’s strong like your Meg. I’m not letting her go. Which means you must.”
His arm flew out from his side, stretching like a giant rope across the gap in the earth and pulling her to him. Her rescuer did not attempt to stop him, and for the first time she got a good look at him. He was tall and broad shouldered but—she drew in a sharp breath—he appe
ared to be injured. He was holding his left side and she could see a crimson stain.
“Before I intervened, you planned to bury her alive. That didn’t appear like you wanted to keep her,” he called from his side of the pit.
Her tormentor laughed. “Yes, I suppose it did look that way, but as you know, looks can be deceiving. I was merely ensuring her cooperation and waiting until you arrived.”
He laughed again and the sound grated on Grace’s nerves. He squeezed her shoulder, as if he would force her to cooperate. “She’s an obstinate one. That is not something I can tolerate in my women.”
He tightened his grip on her shoulders. To prevent her from running away? Her body was paralyzed. She couldn’t make her legs move even if she wanted to.
“I see you ran into one of my traps.” He motioned to her rescuer’s side. “I can make this quick or painful. Which would you prefer?”
His hands became long whips as he flung them across the muddy pit and into her rescuer’s side. He cried out in agony, and the sound made Grace flinch. She could not bear to watch and found herself turning her head into her tormentor’s shoulder.
“You see your girlfriend already finds comfort in my arms.”
He chuckled and the sound was like dreadful acid washing over her skin. She pulled her head away abruptly, but that did not stop the madman.
“She obviously doesn’t share your strong feelings, does she? It will be tragic for her to witness your death. In fact, I’m not sure her mind can handle it. She might never recover. It will be interesting to learn.”
“So shield her from it.”
“No. My partner must be strong.” He bit the words out, and this time his whip-like hands lashed out in succession, throwing her wounded rescuer to the ground.
Wake up, Grace! Wake up!
But her mind refused to obey her, and she remained trapped in the deadly nightmare, forced to bear witness to an innocent man’s death.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Happy Thoughts
“We’ve got the target.”
“Where?” Brian asked quickly, leaning over Peter’s shoulder to look at a large electronic map with a blinking red dot. The crew had established a makeshift headquarters near Grace’s condo, where they could keep an eye on her coming and going. Peter hung up with Roland who had followed a mental trail, leading straight from the Patchwork Company to Gallant Enterprises and from there to Grace Woznisky.
“The bastard’s at the Crown Prince Royal. I knew he had to be holed up somewhere nearby. That was the only explanation of how he gets to her so quickly whenever she is unconscious without a portal in place. We haven’t discovered his identity, but we know where he’s hiding.”
Peter was tapping the pencil he was holding on the table in his excitement. Brian didn’t waste any time pointing it out. He and Sophia were needed. Geneva was keeping them apprised of David’s situation, and it wasn’t good. They needed to get in now, or it wouldn’t matter to David or Grace, let alone the men on the rogue hacker’s tail. The madman would use the information and power in David’s mind to trap them all. Brian held his feeling of impending doom firmly in place—this was no time for panic. He needed to leave it to Peter to coordinate activity in the physical world. His job was to provide a distraction. Brian followed the portal Sophia created for him straight into Grace’s mind.
Brian spent a few precious seconds acclimating himself to the scene. David spotted his presence immediately, but the enemy was too busy exacting his vengeance to notice the ripple on the surface of Grace’s mind. His arms were whips and he was using them to take chunks from David’s arms and legs. Of course, Brian knew those chunks were merely symbols for the damage the enemy was inflicting on David’s defense. Grace stood nearby watching in horror, her arms at her side frozen. Clearly, the madman had her well in hand, also. Time to even the score.
Brian gathered energy together and threw the proverbial wrench into the mix. The analogy made him smile, but it was only a momentary pleasure. He knew the instant the enemy identified his presence and turned his attention on him. The guy was insanely strong.
A metal barrier formed in front of him. Brian struggled, pushing with his mind to knock it down, but it continued to take shape, chunk by hardened chunk materializing out of thin air. He narrowed his energy as he had been taught, focusing on one spot in the hard steel, but as soon as he created a hole, it filled in again. In that moment, Brian realized he had only bought David a few precious moments. And if Peter and the crew didn’t succeed in finding and destroying the rogue hacker, they would be trapped here forever. Their physical bodies would waste away until there was nothing left, and they would be absorbed into Grace’s mind or the enemy’s once she was fully under his spell.
Brian was helpless. Terrified, he forced the emotion back lest the enemy gain even more of an advantage, and he concentrated on keeping the small chunk open.
*****
Grace watched in horror as the iron wall surrounded the newcomer, trapping him inside. Their tormentor was clearly enjoying himself. Grace was linked to his emotions. Would this nightmare never end? She would not escape, and neither would the innocent men trying to help her, unless she could wake.
Grace pinched herself in the dream, but it did no good. Her anger burned at the injustice, the rage enhancing the enemy’s power. The madman’s glee overwhelmed her. Instinctively, Grace forced her mind to happy, peaceful thought—imagining the sand on the beach and the sun on her back. Seeing Claire on her wedding day would be amazing. Claire would be a beautiful bride, and Grace would enjoy being a bridesmaid. Her tormentor paused. It’s working. Grace kept at it. Her mother. She poured on her love and the warm affection as easily as water from the tea kettle. Of course, she worried about Grace and Claire. But Grace knew her mother cared deeply. She wanted her girls to find happiness. The beach! There was nothing like the Lake Erie shoreline in summer. Her beach glass collection glittered in an array of colors on her shelf at home… The colors made a dazzling display.
Grace’s heart rate slowed to a steady, even cadence. She opened her eyes to see the hole widen around the man who had come to rescue her. He climbed out, facing the madman. On the other side of the great chasm, Grace saw her first rescuer stumble to his feet. He was bleeding profusely but still alive. While she watched, another man stepped behind him, his hand on the first man’s shoulder. She glanced once at the madman. He appeared angry at the turn of events. He immediately went after the newcomer, slinging his long arms across the chasm.
Grace closed her eyes and kept at it. Happy thoughts, Grace. Happy thoughts. She reminded herself desperately, forcing the image of the badly wounded man out of her mind and the long arms snaking toward him. Happy thoughts.
*****
David’s tremendous control was slipping. Next to him, his father faltered and fell. David dared not spend any time trying to save him. What little power he had available he was using to shield Grace from the maniac who was slowly tearing holes in his defenses.
It had been three years since he had last encountered the hacker, but still David had not been prepared for the destructive power of the enemy. It was immense, fueled by a maniacal desire to take him over and have Grace as his own. Brian was doing his best at distraction, but it was Grace, herself, who proved a surprising foe. Her mind was resisting the attack. With her help, they had managed to delay the inevitable. The intensity of their attacker’s thrusts had diminished. But it was only a matter of time. He could only hope the others had tracked the hacker to his lair.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Foiled
Kevin, Rolf and Roland raced toward the Crown Prince Royal, but it was nearing 5:00 p.m. on a Tuesday, and the rush-hour traffic was causing a bottleneck on I-90. Rolf kept his thoughts carefully under control, suspecting that at any time he could be sucked into the battle taking place in Grace Woznisky’s mind. Would they be strong enough, together, to hold the enemy at bay? He could only hope they would hang on long eno
ugh for him and the others to get to the body.
The unknown factor in all of this was Grace herself. Would her mind be tough enough to maintain the battle going on inside it? She surprised them all when Geneva and Sophia reported the change in her energy waves—from jagged and rough to smooth and contained. Their smoothness made them harder for the enemy to use to fuel his tremendous power. She was fighting like a trained mind hacker. Rolf pondered how she knew to do it. He himself had spent many years working on the precision needed to exercise that control.
They continued to crawl through the snarled traffic, until eventually the Crown Prince loomed ahead. Rolf, who had been driving, left the other men at the door while he arranged for valet parking. By the time he joined Roland and Kevin, they had cleared the lobby and were at the front desk. Since they had no idea what name their target went by, they would have to find him by other means. They flashed their badges at the desk clerk.
“FBI. We have reason to believe you have a deadly criminal hiding out in your hotel. We have a warrant for their arrest, but we’ll need to search the premises.”
The woman behind the counter held her hand out for Rolf’s badge. She studied it critically, eyeing them suspiciously. Rolf tapped his hands impatiently on the counter and gave her a mental shove. They had minutes to find their target.
She handed him back his badge. “We have three hundred and eighty-four rooms. Which would you like to see?”
“How many suites do you have and who’s staying in your most expensive?”
The desk clerk tapped on keys. “There are twenty suites, all available on the top six floors. The premiere suite is the Jacobs Suite. Let’s see. That is showing a Mr. and Mrs. Bill Ford. Would you like to see that one?”
“Yes, hurry.” Rolf bit out. “I’ll need a key. Kevin, get the names and keys for the other suites and if you don’t hear from us, come and find us.”
