The Reach

by Nate Kenyon

  “You want her to perform some sort of miracle?”

  “I want her to fix her mistake!” Shelley shouted. A vein throbbed in her temple. She shook her head, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, let it out in a hiss. “I’m sorry, I lost control. That was wrong of me. But this is…emotional. I have days left, if that. She can do it. She’s done enough to hold it off before, and now that she’s stronger I think she can erase it completely. There are plenty of examples of psychic healing, from Jesus Christ himself right on down the line. Why not Sarah? I want her to kill each and every diseased cell, hunt them down and destroy them. She can do that much for me.”

  “And if that’s not possible?”

  Shelley didn’t answer, just looked at her as if she’d sprouted a second head. Jess knew then, if she hadn’t before: Dr. Jean Shelley had lost her mind.

  She chose her next words carefully. “What about Wasserman?”

  “Evan was a cog in the wheel,” Shelley said. “He helped us do the work, consulted with me on medical opinions, but he never even knew I was behind Helix, behind the grant money that kept the facility afloat. When this whole place comes crashing down, he’ll take the fall in public for it. I know you think I’m cruel. He had feelings for me, yes, and I manipulated that. But you can’t know what it’s like. You don’t know what you’d do, until you’re in my shoes.”

  “He’s dead,” Jess said. “I saw Sarah kill him.”

  “And I will be too, if we can’t get her to help.” Shelley nodded at someone. Two men stepped forward, into her line of sight. Heavy and large through the shoulders. The muscle. What are they going to do, threaten to break my legs? But they only unhooked the straps from her wrists and ankles and then helped her to a sitting position. Gee watched with arms folded across his chest.

  She looked around. They were in a huge, empty room. The walls and ceiling were covered with some sort of black material, and there were no windows. The only light came from the open door at their backs. With such little light the room seemed to expand, to stretch into infinity.

  “You want to know where you are,” Gee said. “Sensory deprivation tanks can expand the mind exponentially. Studies have shown that psi is enhanced when external stimuli are limited. We tested her in here. You think that random number generator trick was cool? You should have seen some of the things she showed us. But we’ve been able to keep pretty tight controls on her, limiting her with drugs. As she’s grown, her abilities have expanded. It would be amazing to see what she’s capable of now.”

  “If you’ll think things through, you’ll see that this is the only way,” Shelley said. “By helping us you’re helping Sarah. You’re keeping her alive too. Because if she doesn’t learn how to control this gift that she has, she won’t survive it. Reach out to her and bring her back. Isn’t that what you’ve wanted to do all along?”

  “We all win,” Gee said. “Just like I told you.” He stepped closer to her. “I want to see Sarah do well, just like you. I think she’s one of the most incredible miracles ever to walk this earth. We can all learn from her.”

  Damn it. Think. Her mind felt sluggish from the drugs they had given her. Her hands and feet tingled and she shook them lightly, as if freeing them from sleep. She looked around the little group. They were all watching her, waiting for her to make a move.

  “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

  Shelley smiled. A range of emotions washed across her features, softening them in the gentle light from the open door. “Good girl. I knew you’d understand. I always knew it, from the first moment I saw you.” She stepped up to the gurney and put her hand on Jess’s shoulder, then leaned in more closely as if revealing a secret. Her face burned with a feverish intensity. Jess resisted the urge to shrug away her touch. “I know I’ve handled this badly, in many ways. I know you feel betrayed. But try to see things from the right perspective. I’ve spent the last few years trying to help Sarah, keep her from harming herself. Evan took things a bit too far at the end, but he’s gone now. There are a lot of people who want a piece of her, but I can make them go away. I can keep her hidden.”

  “I have your word on that?”

  “Of course. Now, she’s safe, in an adjoining room. She’s sedated, enough to keep her contained, but we can bring her out of it anytime. What I need for you to do is go in there and talk to her, tell her what you want. I’ll leave the details up to you.”

  Sarah fought her way up through the layers of cloud and fog, clawed her way through with renewed determination until she felt the final gossamer wing slip and part and she opened her eyes. For a very long moment, she did not understand where she was, or what had happened; only that her shoulder hurt terribly under the bandage, and her head felt as if it had been emptied and then filled back up with shards of glass.

  I want to go home, she thought, for no reason at all.

  You don’t even know where home is.

  Around this little room were angles and corners of no particular significance; she did not recognize anything. There was equipment nearby, enough that it brought to mind the Room, and then she knew where she was and her little heart broke.

  No. I won’t do it again.

  Memories flooded her mind. The door ripping off its hinges, the two men being flung aside, the doctor being lifted off his feet and choking with blood, and she liked it, yes, she did, she had felt the power flowing out of her in a long, smooth wave and it felt good.

  She moaned softly. She could control it better now, but somehow that made things even worse.

  You are committing a mortal sin, one that cannot be undone.

  She had killed him.

  He deserved it.

  That small voice in her mind was cruel and cut deep. But the thought of it thrilled her all the same, the idea of the ultimate revenge against so many injustices that had been heaped upon her for so long. She could do it to any of them. She could crush them like a bug beneath her heel, make them bleed or burn or slowly suffocate….

  No!

  The sound of the door brought her back. She shivered at the sudden cold, at the puff of her breath and the realization that she had almost let it go again. It was so strong now, she had to clamp down so hard that it hurt. This thing inside her was like a coiled snake waiting to strike.

  For a moment she caught a glimpse of the Room through the door, beyond the familiar figure that filled the space.

  Jess Chambers closed the door behind her. Sarah leapt up and off the little bed and flung herself into Jess’s arms, ignoring the stabbing pain in her shoulder and the blood oozing through the bandage, sobbing, burying her little face against her chest.

  “There, now,” Jess said. She held her and stroked Sarah’s hair. “Hush. It’s all right. We’re going to get through this, you hear me? We’re going to make our way through.”

  “They’re watching,” Sarah said. Her voice was muffled against Jess’s shirt, and she pulled away and swiped at her eyes and nose.

  “I know it. There’s a camera mounted near the ceiling. Don’t worry about that. Is your arm okay?”

  “It hurts.”

  “I bet it does. You did well down there, kiddo. You didn’t have a choice, with what happened. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I…”

  “You kept us both from getting killed. Dr. Wasserman wasn’t going to listen to us, there was nothing you could do to change what happened.”

  “I want to get out of here.”

  “We can work on that. It’s almost time now. You know what they want you to do?”

  Sarah nodded, sniffled. “Dr. Shelley, she’s sick. She’s going to die. And I don’t care.”

  “I don’t blame you. But could you help her, if you wanted?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “They want me to convince you to try. They think I can get into your head somehow, with this drug they’ve given me, and there’s something to that, isn’t there? I mean I can feel it working on me, and I can feel you there. Ther
e’s this pain in my shoulder, just where you were shot.”

  “I feel it,” Sarah whispered.

  “Well, I don’t care what they want. I’m not going to convince you to do anything, Sarah. This is your decision. You have to figure it out on your own.”

  Jess held her out at arm’s length, studied her face. Then she pulled her in close as if to hug her and put her lips to Sarah’s ear. “Don’t make a sound,” she said softly. “I know you’re scared. I don’t think they’re going to just let us walk away. But there is another way out. It’s not going to be pretty, and people are going to get hurt. Do you understand what I’m saying? Remember what I said before. You have to trust yourself.”

  Sarah gave a little nod. Fear ripped through her belly and prickled her neck. But at the same time she felt a terrible eagerness to begin, to let it out, to see where it would all lead.

  “Whatever happens, it’s not your fault. It’s time to let it loose, don’t hold back.”

  You are committing a mortal sin.

  They deserve it. Each and every single one of them.

  “I think you better get away from me now,” Sarah said.

  Jean Shelley waited just outside the door to the prepping room. The others were watching from inside the control booth. The huge, empty space yawned behind her like something coming to gobble her up, but she kept her gaze focused on the door, waiting for it to open. Willing it to open. Please. Her breathing came in shallow little gasps; it was difficult to get air now with the fluid pressing in on her lungs.

  As she waited she tried to remember to calm her thoughts, slow her heartbeat, retreat to a meditative state. But she had gone too far now down another path, and her mind would no longer cooperate. She found herself thinking back to the night so many years ago and the strange woman who had arrived at the hospital. Annie Voorsanger had changed her life forever, and she probably didn’t even know it. How little Shelley had understood then, and how far she had come.

  When the door opened, she knew instantly that it was over. Warmth spread through her body. The girl was beautiful, framed in the light from behind, her face in shadow. Angelic. Here was her savior; here was her life, ready to be returned to her.

  They had dosed her with the dimerizer, dialed her up to full power. It was now or never. Dr. Jean Shelley stretched out her arms and closed her eyes. A great peace washed over her as she felt the room temperature begin to drop and her skin prickle.

  She envisioned each and every diseased cell withering under the attack. They were in full retreat now as the girl worked her psychic fingers in among the folds of tissue. Playing them like a concert pianist would caress the ivory keys. Shelley smiled a little as her mind brought her back to those days when she could sit at the piano for hours as a child, her father, still alive then and retired from the company, pausing every once in a while to listen from the kitchen as he washed his hands before supper; go on now, Jean, play the Beethoven. God, how she missed that. The light through the sitting room window was red at sunset and lit the room up like fire….

  “Stop,” a hoarse voice said. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

  Shelley opened her eyes. She frowned. A bloody apparition had appeared at the main door to the observation room.

  Evan Wasserman shuffled in on broken, bloody feet. His eyes were nearly swollen shut. Gore streaked his face and caked his hair. One arm hung at an odd angle. The other held a gun. It looked like half his hand had melted into the grip.

  He peered at her through puffy lids, a puzzled expression on his face. “Jean, I—I don’t understand. We agreed to end this ourselves. Why are there men downstairs?” “Evan,” she said, pleading. “Don’t.” “It was supposed to be done quietly,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Nobody would have to know. This place would be safe, the children…” He looked up at her. “The children!” he screamed, bloody saliva spraying from his mouth. “Look what you’ve done, bringing her up here. The building is falling apart. My grandfather—”

  “You don’t know a goddamned thing,” she hissed at him, baring her teeth. “You sick, disgusting man. I have everything under control. Get out of here!”

  Wasserman shook his head. His features clenched, tears wetting the blood at the corner of his eyes. He raised the gun. “I won’t let it happen again,” he said. “I—”

  Shelley sensed movement more than she saw it, and suddenly Jeffrey was barreling into Wasserman from the shadows, hitting him low and in the side like a linebacker into a running back. The blow carried Wasserman up and into the air as the gun barked and something whined off into the darkness, and then they both hit the floor, slid, and rolled over into the wall.

  Shelley turned back to the girl. Something was wrong. The room temperature had plummeted, and yet she felt uncomfortably warm. She felt as if someone had doused her with kerosene and was about to light a match.

  The girl had come several steps into the room now. Her eyes were glassy in the faint light, reflecting something red that grew brighter by the second.

  The air seemed to shimmer. Shelley looked around her at the black walls, the waveproof walls that were now glowing orange red, that were rippling like water running down rock, and at the same time she could hardly see through the cloud of steam from her breath. Ice crystals formed in midair and dropped like tiny diamonds at her feet, only to hiss and boil away into mist.

  It was all wrong, she shouldn’t be this strong, even with the drugs they had given her….

  Shelley’s skin was burning, melting off her bones.

  She shrieked, but the sound was lost in the unforming of her lips and the slow slide of flesh from her jaw.

  To study the self is to forget the self, and to forget the self is to be enlightened by the ten thousand things.

  In her moment of despair, she clung to this elusive goal, even as her brain boiled inside its bone shell. She still had not found the ten thousand things. Or perhaps she had; perhaps losing yourself meant finding infinity, everything and nothing at once, and the ten thousand things were a metaphor for that boundless stretch of space where time meant nothing, life did not exist, and the world had dissolved into a great, black emptiness.

  Her last thoughts were meant for a Christian God, whom she had denounced years ago, and her prayers were reduced to childhood rhymes. Everything was wrong, the world was coming to an end.

  Jesus, save me.

  Then there was only pain.

  —37—

  Jess Chambers, crouched just inside the open door, looked up in time to see the final release of Dr. Jean Shelley.

  She had seen Evan Wasserman come in, hardly believing her eyes; she thought she had watched him die. Then, even more unbelievingly, Jeffrey had done his heroic part. Even now they were still struggling with each other, but Jeffrey had gotten his arms under the doctor’s armpits and locked his hands behind Wasserman’s head.

  The floor had become slick as she gained her feet again and held herself upright against the door frame. It was difficult to see now through the odd mix of heat and cold, as the two met like miniature weather fronts and turned the moisture in the air to steam and then instantly to ice.

  Shelley stood a few feet beyond Sarah’s tiny form. Her arms were still outstretched, as if in prayer, but her flesh hung off them like uncooked bread dough. Her shoes had dissolved into the floor, and she stood like a rooted human tree as the walls gave off waves of glittering heat. Jess could feel it burning her skin like the sun.

  Within the dripping oval of her face, Shelley’s lips moved. Something popped, and her skin began to smolder. Smoke poured from her hair, her nose and mouth, rose off her body like early-morning steam from a lake.

  Then she burst into flame.

  Another door flew open and shouts came from the other end of the room. Sarah turned her head, and Jess felt the electrical charge push past her like a breath of wind. The two guards who had begun to draw their weapons now danced in place like two puppets on a string, their limbs jerking and their h
air standing on end. Ronald Gee stood just behind them in the doorway, sparks running from his fingers. His clothes had already begun to burn.

  The heat and smoke were swiftly overwhelming everything else. Jess found it hard to breathe, and she pulled her shirt up over her nose and mouth.

  Sarah was moving. Jess’s eyes watered as she tried to watch the girl cross the room, but she had to turn away to catch her breath, and when she turned back, Sarah was gone.

  Jess stumbled out into the crackling, open space. Now that Sarah had left, the air had returned to its normal state, and only the fire was left to burn. Somehow it had gotten underneath and in the walls, and up into the roof. In another few minutes this part of the building would be a raging inferno.

  The heat was almost unbearable. It was like standing on melting asphalt at twelve noon in the middle of a desert, waves of sickly heat washing over her from all directions.

  She shielded her face and ran past the two guards and Gee, who were now sprawled motionless and smoldering across the floor, and out into the hallway. A little easier to breathe out here. Something cracked and shook the floor beneath her feet. She took a gulp of cooler air, coughed up deep hacking mouthfuls of soot and phlegm, and saw the open elevator shaft yawning like a great black mouth. She headed for the stairs.

  One floor down, Jess ran past the playroom. Empty, thank God, they had gotten the children out. She continued to the front entrance.

  The doors were gone. A ragged hole of concrete and steel took their place. She looked through, out along the path of destruction.

  The man in the blue suit was doing a dance on the front steps, his white hair standing on end, his eyes bulging. Smoke curled from within the sleeves of his jacket. His skin crackled. He held a rigid, frozen pose, and then dropped as if suddenly released, rolled limply down the last two steps, and lay still.