I haven’t told Ben about them yet. I’m not ready. With the new experiments starting soon, the less Ben knows about their abilities, the better.
Elaine closed the journal and put it on the table. “You and Josh were part of those experiments she spoke of, weren’t you? Mark was right, you really are psychic.”
My mouth refuses to work, so I nod instead.
“Where is your mom now, Dakota? You weren’t on vacation, were you?”
I shake my head, still unable to speak. Tears flow down my face and Elaine scoops me into a hug.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I say as a large sob escapes. “I couldn’t. I still shouldn’t say anything.”
“Shh,” Elaine says. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe here.”
“That’s just it. I’m not safe. I won’t ever be safe. And now that you know . . .” My voice cracks on the last words.
“I’m fine. Nothing will happen to me,” Elaine says. “It’ll all be okay. I promise.
I wish I could believe her.
“You have another brother,” she says.
“I have another brother.” The words are barely more than a whisper. I pace the room and the apprehension builds under my skin. My mind spins. A younger brother. I can’t believe it. “Elaine, what if he’s like me? What is he has gifts?” Emotions fill me, forcing out all reason. “I have to find him. I need to make sure he’s okay.”
“Dakota, where would you even start?”
“I don’t know. But I’m not going to let him wrestle with this all by himself.”
My thoughts race as I begin to make plans. I grab the envelope and search the contents again. “Maybe the person who sent it knows something, anything that will help me figure things out.” The words come out too fast.
“Dakota, wait. You’re jumping into this too quickly. You need to take a breath and make a plan.”
I am planning. And there is no way I am going to abandon my brother. Not after I already lost Josh.
“I need to figure this out,” I say as I leave the house.
“Where are you going?” Elaine calls out
“For a run. I have to think.”
My feet pound on the dirt path that extends from the house to the shoreline. I used to run every time life became more than I could handle. I ran when Gabe dumped me. I ran when David left without a word. And now I run to avoid the betrayal I feel from my mom for the baby she discarded—Liam.
My feet hit the sand in pulsating rhythms. I haven’t run like this since I left Cambria. Having the opportunity now reminds me how much I’ve missed it.
Wind whips my hair back as the ocean presses along the coast, casting its spray in my face. I picture my mom, my childhood. Familiar stretches of darkness push out any other thoughts. I sharpen my focus, determined to find the missing moments of my life. There has to be an echo of the past, something to help me regain everything that was lost.
Everything she stole.
The more I try, the less I see. Snippets of time get lost in the void of my thoughts. Anger swells for Mom, my father, Josh, David.
I run faster, harder.
Sweat beads my brow and my breath comes in labored pants. My legs pump as my feet sink into the wet sand. The sun beats down, warming my body further. I can’t keep up this pace much longer.
The more I run, the further I push into my mind. And the more my memories fail. I scream my frustration and slow to a stop, unable to quell the rising pain in my side.
At once something touches my thoughts. Someone. Apprehension crawls along my spine and spreads through my skin. Anger and frustration mix in equal proportion.
You.
LeMercier forms in the black abyss of my thoughts. He smiles, laughs. Another presence filters in, just as sinister and self-satisfied as my father.
“Get out,” I yell into the wind.
A flock of sea birds take flight, disturbed by the unwelcome noise of my voice.
“I said, GET OUT!”
More laughter permeates my thoughts as each presence is tossed from my head. I turn and run back toward my home. LeMercier remains on the fringe of my awareness. His presence conjures images of Mom, her first husband and a version of LeMercier I can’t believe exists.
I taught you better than this, Assassin. His voice is clear. It consumes everything in my mind. Your emotions betray you. They make you weak.
My mind closes in on itself as images of my mom are ripped from me.
“No,” I yell with each attack. Stop. I push against him, willing him to stop the invasion. He rifles my thoughts again, twisting my fears, using my frustration against me.
With a grunt I toss him out of my memories, my mind.
Again he seeps into my head.
And again I force him out.
Each effort extracts a higher toll. Each time, I struggle a bit more.
You can’t beat me, Assassin. Not yet. You’re out of practice. You need to be trained.
I shove and push, determined to make myself free from the invasion of this man, my father.
Images streak forward again. My house, the town. He knows where I am, I think. I pull the images back and store them deep in my thoughts with a scream. “No! Get out!”
Silence engulfs all remaining thoughts. Silence coated with fear.
My heart races as a deep pressuresettles on my chest and shoulders. I scan the landscape. No one’s here. Not yet. I shove my hand in my pocket and retrieve my phone, gripping it too tight. My fingers cramp as I pound the numbers. Elaine answers on the second ring.
“Where are you?” I ask. The words tumble too fast and I have to repeat them.
“Your house, why?”
“Get out! Now! Grab my mom’s journal and leave.”
Elaine’s voice drops. “Dakota, what’s wrong?” Fear laces each word. “Where are you?”
“Just do it, Elaine.” I can’t hide the panic.
The sound of rustling papers and doors opening and closing filters through the receiver. I inhale a sharp breath.
“Meet me at the Juice Bar on Main. 30 minutes. If I’m not there by then call Mark. Go to SLO. Do you hear me? Go and don’t come back. Not for a while.”
“You’re scaring me Dakota.”
“Good. This is serious. You aren’t safe. Not while you’re in the house.”
“Tell me what’s going on.” Elaine’s voice mimics the panic running through my body. She starts the car and I release a tight breath.
“Later. Drive to the Juice Bar. Don’t call anyone else. Don’t go anywhere else. I’ll meet you there in 30 minutes. Promise.” The pressure in my chest lightens as I disconnect the call and jam the phone into my pocket.
I close my eyes and wrestle with my feelings. Conjuring an image of Elaine, I draw a cage around her mind, a shield to protect her thoughts just as Mark had instructed. This needs to work. It would work. Josh created one for me when he left last time.
Josh.
The memory slams into me with the force of a closed fist. My legs wobble. I steel myself against the onslaught, every moment of the last seven months on display in my thoughts. The gunshots, Josh’s death, Maya. With each death, my resolve stiffens. No one else will die because of me. Period.
The Juice Bar is empty by the time I arrive. Elaine sits at a small booth in the back. Smart. I scan the bar, every nerve, every cell on heightened alert.
Elaine waves me toward her.
“Move to the other side,” I say with a nod. “I need to be able to see everything.”
Anxiety radiates from Elaine’s skin. “What’s going on?” she whispers.
“Did you bring the journal?”
Elaine slides it to me and I tuck it into the black backpack-turned-go-bag next to my set of IDs and remaining cash. “We have to leave.” My voice sounds hollow, even to me. “We aren’t safe here.”
“What are you talking about? Who’s after us?”
“Me,” I say as my gaze sweeps the space in an endles
s motion. “They’re after me.”
“This is about the experiments, isn’t it? Your abilities?”
“Yes.” I’m not sure how much to tell her. “My parents were in hiding from some very bad people. They found us after my hospitalization.”
“That’s why you left.”
“They followed us. They want me to come back. Be part of the experiments again.”
Elaine reaches for my hand. “What did they do to you?”
I struggle with a reply. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does.”
“No, it really doesn’t. The only thing important now is to get you out of here before they find us.”
“Who are these people? The government? The military?” Elaine’s brow furrows. “Can’t you just say no? Tell them where they can shove their stupid experiments.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Let me talk to them. I’ll help you.”
Unexpected water fills my eyes as I realize how important Elaine is to me. “I won’t risk that,” I say. “You just need to leave and let me deal with this.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you’re hiding.” Her jaw sets and I know what’s coming. “Tell me what they did to you and Josh. Tell me everything. Then we’ll figure this out.”
I close my eyes briefly and expand my senses. Nothing out of the ordinary filters into my thoughts. Only the shop owner and his wife, a couple that walks in, people enjoying the day on the street. No unusual thoughts or feelings. Completely mundane.
I open my eyes and meet Elaine’s gaze for a long moment before I go back to searching our surroundings. I tell her about reading minds and remote viewing. I talk about the other recruits and our games of hide and seek. And I speak of LeMercier and the bad feeling I get whenever I think of him. I mention nothing of Maya’s attacks or Josh’s death. Nothing of the training that taught me to kill. Nothing about LeMercier’s attacks on my mind and presence in my dreams.
“Are your parents dead?”
Elaine’s question takes me by surprise.
“And Josh? Was he killed because of this?” Elaine pins me with her glare, forcing the truth from my lips.
“Yes.” My face feels like stone. Until water pricks the back of my eyes. Fills them. Spills over my cheeks.
I swallow hard. New pressure stiffens my jaw and shoulder. My chest tightens. “We need to get out of here.”
“You sense something, don’t you? Tell me.”
“There’s no time,” I say as I pull her from the cafe. My skin erupts in gooseflesh as we pour onto the street. No images come to my mind, no indication that we’re in danger. A wave of chills pass through me as the hair on my arms stands. “Come on!”
I push Elaine ahead of me, guiding her through the streets. Our gait is brisk as we pass the shops and attempt to blend in with the increasing crowd. The sun hangs high overhead. Clouds hug the horizon, threatening an incoming storm. Families and couples walk along the streets of downtown Cambria, unaware of the increasing dangers I sense.
“Where are we going?” Elaine whispers.
“I’m not sure yet, but we should get off the street.”
“Do you sense something? See anything?” Elaine had listened to my descriptions of the experiments and correctly assumed I could see the danger before it arrived.
I hope she’s right.
I scan the street with my eyes and my abilities. Nothing indicates we’re in danger except the anxiety racing down my spine and the distinct feeling of being watched.
“Dakota? What are we doing? We can’t just walk around aimlessly like targets.”
“I know, I know. Let me think.”
Elaine stops and looks around the small center of town.
“Geez, Elaine. Stop being so obvious.”
“There’s no one following us, Dakota. You’re being paranoid.”
“You don’t know that,” I snap. I release a sharp breath. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. It’s horrible.” Elaine smiles as a biker passes too close on the sidewalk, nearly sending her to the ground. “Whoa! Watch it,” she yells at the biker before she starts to laugh.
I smile as the stranglehold on my nerves abates. I again stretch my awareness. Nothing. Maybe I imagined everything.
“Come on. It’s Wednesday, we can go to the Farmers Market. No one will find us in that mess.”
We walk to the end of Main Street and turn the corner to the large, fenced-in parking lot. Previously a drive-in theatre, this space has housed our near-famous Farmers Market forever. People come from all over Central California to get fresh fruits and vegetables, nuts and flowers, as well as a strange assortment of over-priced junk.
Elaine leads me through the maze of vender booths, lingering to look at some of the goods. “What now?” she asks. “Should we just check things out like we used to?”
Elaine and I came to the market every Wednesday over the summers. I loved the fresh produce. She liked the flowers.
“No. I still think you should call Mark and go back to SLO.” I stop at a vegetable stand and examine the assortment of squash. My senses refuse to relax. I can’t shake the feeling of being watched. Hunted. “I need to leave Cambria,” I say to no one.
“What? Why?” Elaine leads me to a stand with fruit baskets and bags of fresh almonds.
“It’s me they want.” My nerves feel like they’re going to jump through my skin. “If I leave, everyone else will be safe.” I think of David and my reasons for leaving him. It was a mistake to come here, a mistake to think LeMercier couldn’t find me.
“Who? Who is coming after you?”
I walk to the next booth and finger the stems of Zinnias, Amaranths and Peruvian Lilies that stand in tall buckets. “These are nice.” I hand a zinnia to Elaine.
“Don’t ignore the question. Who’s after you exactly?” She stops and glares at me. “The government? The police? That LeMercier guy?”
My body shudders with the mention of my father.
A familiar crackling sound whizzes past me. My mind spins. The flower vendor screams. Chaos erupts in the market.
On instinct I pull Elaine to the ground with me. The vendor lands next to us with a thud, his lifeless eyes still open. Blood oozes from a spot on his head as more crimson liquid pools around his scalp. A strangled gasp escapes Elaine’s mouth. She stares at the vendor, shock etched into the corners of her mouth.
More gunshots ring out. More screams as pandemonium breaks out around us. Elaine and I crouch low and push through the tangled maze of tables and people.
“Run and hide.” I push her ahead of me. “I’ll take care of this.” I don’t want her to see what I am about to do.
“No. I’m not letting you confront these people.”
“Just go! Run!” I run toward the gunshots as Elaine calls my name. Centering my thoughts, I envision the snipers in detail. Two men, each dressed like flower vendors. A white van is parked near one of the fences that surround the market. The men are perched on top, picking off their victims.
I spin around and scrutinize the perimeter. Another flurry of shots fill my ears and I duck briefly. A throng of panicked shoppers block my line of sight. They push past me, scream, fall. The guns quiet. The people continue to scream.
A moment passes.
Another.
I picture both men collapsing to their knees atop the van, their minds lost to the pain I inflict. A slow smile curves my lips. I want them to hurt, need them to suffer.
They deserve it.
Part of me tries to resist my urge to kill the faceless assassins, to resist the instincts LeMercier created in me. A bigger, louder part of me wants to unleash every moment of the hell trapped inside. The frustration and the rage. I want them to pay, just like I wanted Maya to pay. Pay for Mom and Josh. Pay for the life I’ve been denied, the memories I’ve lost.
Pay for me and what I’ve become, what I am.
&
nbsp; The silhouettes of the two gunmen demonstrate the power of the mental images I toss into their thoughts. They writhe and crumble, straining against their guns. Their arms shake as the weapons fix on each other. Dual gunshots signal my success. The men fall from the van as it explodes in synch with the pictures in my head. The ground shakes as fire reaches the gas tank. My smile broadens. I didn’t watch when I killed the other men, didn’t feel the satisfaction that currently coats my skin.
I’m energized and shamed simultaneously.
Releasing the thought, I focus my senses on Elaine. It takes several heartbeats before I sense her at the far end of the destroyed market. I run, weaving between the few remaining patrons, broken tables and scattered goods.
“Elaine,” I yell as I round the last corner. My body jerks to a full stop. Bile swirls and races up my throat. My legs shake.
“Hello, Assassin.”
Seven’s heart pounded in his chest. Hedrank in the look on the Assassin’s face as he held the girl captive, one arm around her throat, his Glock pressed into her temple. He didn’t often use guns, preferring instead to use his psychic abilities or hand-to-hand methods of inflicting pain or death. But he knew the gun would throw the Assassin off-balance, he’d learned that much rummaging through her thoughts.
“Who are you?” the Assassin snapped. She didn’t look dangerous in any way.
“Does it matter?” Seven smiled. He drank in the anger rolling off the Assassin in waves.
A low, faint pressure covered his mind. Interesting, he thought as his gaze passed from his captive to his target. Another hint of pressure. And another.
“You’ll have to try harder than that if you want to impress me.” Seven enjoyed the way the Assassin’s eyes ignited every time he goaded her.
“Don’t worry,” the Assassin said to the girl locked in Seven’s grip. “He won’t hurt you. He’s only trying to scare me.” A moment of fear passed over the Assassin’s expression.
Reckoning Page 8
