by Sean Platt
“Because I see Eden’s data. Because I’ve had the visions, same as our seers. We know what’s coming if we don’t act.”
“So, what do you want from me? I told you I don’t know anything, let alone where your enemies are hiding.”
“Perhaps you don’t. But you can find them.”
“How?”
“Because you have a psychic connection to their leader.”
“Who is that?”
“Your father, Ben Shepherd.”
“My father is leading the people working against you? And you want me to bring you to him?”
“No, we want you to talk to him, to deliver a message.”
“What message?”
“I’ll give it to you later. First I need to know if you’ll do it. Will you deliver the message, Ella?”
“I told you, I don’t know how this Jumper thing works. I can’t control who I Jump into. I figured it was random. It just happens. And I don’t even know why I’m in anyone else’s body at all. I assumed it was to help them, but nobody’s ever offered instructions.”
“We can guide you. The lack of control comes from you not working with us. Your father took you offline shortly before he left us. He didn’t want you working in the program any longer. I believe he knew how instrumental you were to helping us. We didn’t know his true intentions then, of course. It wasn’t until after he left that we learned just how disturbed he was.”
“How do you know all this?”
“You still don’t remember me, do you?” Fairchild offers what might be his first genuine smile.
“No.”
“I’m your grandfather. Your mother’s father. I’ve known you since you were a baby.”
His eyes and expression are honest.
I feel like another piece of my life’s puzzle has just tumbled into place, even though I don’t know what to do with it or how that new piece might fit into the bigger picture.
“You said my father pulled me out of the program, right? Then why am I still Jumping?”
“That, I don’t know. I assumed that Benjamin had turned you, had you working with The First Front. But I should’ve known better. You’re not like him.”
So, the man who killed an innocent girl is calling me good? Not sure what to make of that.
“What is he like?”
“He was a good man once. But things started to go off the rails after your mother passed away. He bought into these conspiracy theories about the government killing Deviants, setting up death camps, and other nonsense. He fell in with some bad people at a vulnerable time.”
It’s weird. Here I am standing with someone giving me the first clues as to who I am, and yet I still feel so terribly lost. I have a million questions — each one more pressing than the others. I meet his eyes.
“You want my help?”
“Yes.”
“How do I know you aren’t just using me to find my father? You seemed insistent on getting his location from the other Deviants.”
“Firstly, we can’t follow you. That’s not how Jumping works. You have a connection to him that will allow you to Jump into someone close to wherever he is. We can’t follow unless we know that location. Secondly, we merely want to open a dialogue with him. Despite all the horrible things that The First Front has done, I don’t think your father is evil. He just hasn’t seen what we have. He doesn’t know where his actions will lead us all. I believe we can come to some agreement — one that will enlighten him and our critics. One that can save the world.”
“You’ll understand if I find it hard to believe that you only want to open a dialogue given that I watched you shoot and kill two people in cold blood, one of them your own agent.”
“Let me ask you something, Ella? Would you kill one person to save the world?”
I know the answer I’m supposed to say. But admitting it is difficult. My eyes go to the girl in the chair, Eden, still unconscious, communicating with the computer, or maybe the Jumpers or psychics in tubes beneath us.
Fairchild doesn’t wait. “How about two people to save the world?”
Still, I say nothing.
“Do I feel bad about killing them? Yes. But not half as bad as I’d feel if I sat by and did nothing while events spiraled out of control. And that is what will happen if we can’t talk to Benjamin soon — things will go terribly wrong.”
“How do I know you won’t kill my father if he doesn’t listen?”
“You don’t. And I can’t make you do this. I won’t kill you if you walk away, but I can show you more of our program, and you can understand why we do what we do.”
“I’ll help you on one condition.”
His eyebrows arch. “And that would be?”
“I want you to free Chelsea Caldwell.”
“Chelsea Caldwell? How do you know her?”
“I was in her body a month or so ago, right after she tried to kill herself. And I know you took her.”
“Did you say after she tried to kill herself? While she was in high school?”
“Yes.”
“And you said this was … last month?”
“Give or take a week, yeah.”
Fairchild looks at me as if lost for words. He seems to struggle, then finally says, “What is today’s date?”
I tell him.
“Come,” he says, leading me back out of the black room with its computer and chambers stuffed with unconscious Jumpers.
I follow him back onto the elevator, and up one floor. Then down another corridor, this one all white, the floor shiny from a recent waxing.
We pass several closed doors, none with identifying names or numbers. Only lookalike black doors in large gray frames.
We follow the corridor until it ends in a T, then turn right, and arrive at a security station in front of a set of large double black doors.
We’re waved through by the lone officer standing guard.
Beyond the doors, the place goes from clean, white, and sterile, to almost hotel-like, with warm browns, reds, and terra-cotta hues comprising the carpet’s color scheme, walls, and doors, which now have names and numbers on the tags.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Living quarters for residents.”
“In the Karma Police program?”
“Yes,” he says as we stop in front of a door reading 11 and a brass plate reading Pilot 71 on the outside.
He knocks.
Thirty seconds later a woman’s voice says, “Hold on.” Then ten seconds later the door opens, and I see Chelsea.
Except she’s no longer the teen I remember. She’s at least four, maybe five years older.
“Hello, Ms. Caldwell. I’ve brought someone to meet you.”
She looks at me, eyes sparkling, smiling as if she’s happy to be here. “Hi,” she says looking up at me, then extending a hand.
If she knows it’s me behind Rich Wellner’s body, she isn’t showing it, nor attempting any telepathic communication.
“Chelsea?”
She nods, “Yes. And you are?”
“It’s me, Ella.”
Her head tilts slightly, smile still on her face, now slightly askew.
“Ella … the Jumper who was in your body after you tried to kill yourself.”
Her eyes widen. “Ella?”
She throws her arms open as if being reunited with a long-lost best friend. “Oh, my God, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you for so long.”
“How long?” I ask, pulling out of the hug.
“Five years. Why?”
I feel Fairchild behind me, and want him gone. “Can we have some privacy?”
“Yes, of course.” He nods then leaves us alone in the room, which looks a lot like any average hotel suite, save for a few books and art supplies that Chelsea’s lined neatly on a small shelf.
I look at her. She’s smiling. Is this Stockholm Syndrome, where she’s been held so long that now she simply obeys?
“Are you okay? I though
t you needed my help. You said some people in a van took you.”
Chelsea laughs, but it sounds uncomfortable. I get the distinct feeling that she’s being monitored and has to be careful with her words. “Ah, yeah. I was scared at first. But they’ve helped me to explore my gifts. They’ve given me a purpose here.”
“What kind of purpose? Body jumping? Killing people?”
“I’m not a Jumper. I’m a co-pilot. I help Jumpers do their jobs, traveling with them psychically. Forget about me. Where have you been? I haven’t heard from you or sensed you for five years. What happened?”
I tell Chelsea that until a few minutes ago, I thought I was still living in the year we’d met. “I don’t know what happened. I can’t remember anything for the past five years. Only bits and pieces of the year before I met you, and then a few fragments from after, but I don’t know what happened.”
“Come and sit,” she says, leading me to her bed.
I take a seat beside her. Chelsea grabs my hand and tells me how much she missed me and that really everything is fine.
But as her mouth says these words, she’s telepathically speaking others.
“You have to get out of here. Do not trust these people.”
I knew it. How can I help you escape? You’re the only reason I’m here.
“You can’t escape. Forget about me. Just go.”
“They want me to do something, to contact my father. I told them that I’d only do it if they released you. I can get you out of here.”
She’s maintaining her facade of a smile, but her eyes are getting wet.
“Please, just go. Don’t do anything they say. They’ll trap you here, too.”
Her door hisses open, then another face from my past enters the room — Irina Pochenko, no longer the scrawny twelve-year-old girl running from The Hospital. She’s now a beautiful seventeen-year-old young woman with long dark hair and bright gold and emerald eyes.
“Irina!” I stand to hug her, glad to see that she’s okay, even if she’s stuck in this place.
But Irina isn’t smiling.
And I can feel Chelsea’s terror behind me.
Irina speaks, sharply, “Is this how you repay our kindness? By conspiring behind our backs?”
Oh, God. Irina was listening in.
“I’m sorry,” Chelsea begs, “please, don’t tell them. Please.”
Two armed guards storm into the room and rush Chelsea.
I wish I had my gun. I’ll have to improvise.
I turn to the closest guard and jab him in the Adam’s Apple, causing him to collapse to the ground.
I go for his gun.
“Stop!” Irina screams.
My body is frozen as if she’s paused time itself.
But I’m the only one affected.
The non-injured guard grabs Chelsea and drags her from the room screaming, “Please, don’t hurt her!”
I want to yell, tell them to leave Chelsea here. To punish me, not her. But I’m still frozen, and I don’t have to.
“Stop!” Irina yells. “Leave her here.”
This isn’t like when Fairchild had me paralyzed with pain. Irina has somehow severed my connection. I’m still in the host body, but can’t access the controls.
I’m a helpless passenger.
I look at Irina, desperate to see whatever Rich is looking at. I wonder if he’s back in control. If he is, I can’t feel him in here with me, and he must be wondering what the hell is going on.
Irina walks closer to me. My vision follows, and I realize that Rich isn’t in charge. She is, controlling everything.
Irina looks up at me. “So, I finally get to meet the infamous Ella.”
I speak back in my mind, assuming she can hear me since she apparently eavesdropped on my conversation with Chelsea.
I thought you were good. I tried to save you from these people. What did they do to you?
“They showed me the light. A future where people like you and me aren’t feared or maligned, a future where we make a difference. But there are so many of our kind out there giving Deviants a bad name. Who will ruin this for us.”
She sounds like she’s been brainwashed by Fairchild and Company.
Please. Let Chelsea go. Let her live a normal life.
“There is no normal for us, Ella. This is our birthright. Our duty.”
Then I’m not helping you. I’m not giving a message to my father.
“Yes you will,” she says, looking at Chelsea. “We might not be able to hurt you, but we can hurt Chelsea.”
You won’t hurt her. You need her, or she wouldn’t be here.
My mind flashes back to Fairchild shooting Brooke Sumner dead in front of me. Irina shows me the memory.
“Need?”
Irina turns and heads toward the door.
For a moment, I think she’ll leave me here, but then Rich’s body follows, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
We get back on the elevator and head back down to the black room with the girl in the chair and the Jump chambers.
Fairchild is waiting inside, hands crossed in front of him. “I had hoped you would do this willingly, Ella. But now you’ve forced our hand.”
My body relaxes. My control has returned.
“Please. I’ll do what you want. But please let Chelsea go. She doesn’t belong here.”
“I’m sorry, Ella. We’ve invested a lot of time and resources into Chelsea. She’s a very special girl.”
“She doesn’t belong here,” I repeat.
“And she doesn’t belong out there. You saw her life before now. She was miserable. Her parents didn’t understand her. She tried to kill herself. Now she’s making a difference, doing good things in the world. And, until you arrived, she was happy.”
“Bullshit.”
Irina scowls at me. “Quiet!”
And my mouth shuts against my will.
Fairchild looks at Irina. “Let her talk.”
Irina looks disappointed, as if she’s upset her master, or maybe her father figure. What the hell happened since I last saw her?
“You want a preview?” She releases her hold, looks Chelsea up and down.
I look at Fairchild, who offers no denial.
“I thought you needed her. That she was special. But not so special that you won’t hurt her to get me?”
“You’re giving us a chance to end the war with The First Front before things get worse. I asked if you’d kill one person to save the world. You didn’t answer, but here’s mine: yes. Every single time, yes. No matter who it is. No one person is worth the fate of the world. No one.”
“You people are sick.”
Fairchild shakes his head, eyeing me with pity like I’m a confused child with no idea what I’m doing.
This only makes me angrier.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Ella. In time, I hope you’ll come around. Maybe when your father sees the light, you will too. Then we can all work together again, against our true enemy.” He smiles at this thought. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
I say nothing.
“Okay, let’s get this going, shall we?”
Fairchild commands Eden to eject two chambers from the floor.
They’re side-by-side. As the glass doors hiss open, red lights illuminate the chamber interiors.
“Please,” Fairchild says, waving a hand. “We don’t want to make you.”
I get inside one of the chambers, standing against a red cushion I’ll be laying against.
I watch as Irina enters the other.
I glare at her as she climbs inside, wondering how someone could turn so thoroughly from good to evil.
I could feel Irina’s kindness while inside her, when she was running from the overlords she worships now.
What did they do to turn her?
And are they doing the same to Chelsea?
I hate these monsters. I want to burst out of the chamber, find Darius’s body, and use it to tear this place down.
I wonder how this is going to work, and why Irina is in the chamber beside me. Is she going to coach me, help me find my father? Fairchild had said that the Jumpers work in concert with psychics. Co-pilots. Is that what she is?
And how can they be sure that I’ll stay here when I jump? I’m not actually in my body. I’m in a host. Does that matter? So many questions I should’ve asked instead of arguing the inevitable.
Metal bands close around my body.
No, not yet!
A sudden claustrophobic panic swells inside. I’m not sure if it’s mine or Rich’s. Shortness of breath, itches in places I can’t reach, despite my desperate need.
I can’t move.
I’m locked in place.
“No, please! Let me out for a second. I just need to scratch my back, stretch my arms.”
The chamber door hisses shut.
“No!”
The chamber descends.
I would pound on the glass if I could move my arms, but I can’t do a thing.
Something occurs to me as I’m lowered into the ground.
“Wait! You never gave me the message for my father! You never gave me the message!”
I hear a hissing all around me.
Then there’s only the darkness.
* * * *
EPILOGUE
I wake in darkness, gasping.
I sit up, catching my breath and wondering where I am.
The old digital clock on the cluttered nightstand beside my bed reads 5:15 AM in bright red numerals.
My hand finds the lamp beside the clock, and I turn it on, illuminating a bedroom/workshop, stacked floor to ceiling with shelves, boxes, and crates overflowing with tools, supplies, scrap, and electronics.
The place reeks of metal, grease, and oil, all scents that Clifton loves, the odor of a satisfied life. Because nothing is better than being busy, having something to do, things to make, people to help.
How can he sleep here?
Details flood my mind.
I’m underground, in the body of Clifton Emmanuel, a 65-year-old man and one of the older members of The First Front. They call him The Fixer, a nickname he wears with pride. He isn’t a Deviant with a super power or gift. He’s just a very handy man, one who helped turned these forgotten catacombs under the city into a fully functional secret headquarters with power, running water, and all the amenities required to fight the government’s black ops program.
