“Ryan,” Susan said, “Why don’t you come over here, and sit with us at the table? It will give you a chance to calm down, and we can talk about this some more.” She enticed him with pizza, and he repeated everything he remembered hearing, exactly as he’d heard it. Then Dylan explained to Susan who Ryan was, and that he was a listener once studied by Sidney.
Then the swing of the door interrupted them again, and this time, the nurse brought with her, Annie, Ryan’s mother. Her big brown eyes stared straight at her son, and the irate expression on her face was equally direct. Her lips were pulled tight, rapid breathing quelling rising anger just underneath. She stared at him, and then looked at them, as though they were the apparent causes.
“Ryan Quinn! What do you think you’re doing?”
* * * *
“So, you mean to tell me that my son is a target because of his psychic ability and now in danger of being kidnapped?” Annie voiced the sounds of hostility and frustration as they explained to her what had taken place just before she arrived.
Susan took control of the situation, first by introducing herself as who she was to the team, and then as a psychiatrist at the hospital. She convinced everyone to be seated around the table in the lounge to discuss the situation, and listen, for Ryan’s sake. Then, she instructed Ryan to begin by telling his mother all that he’d heard about the man’s voice, and he did.
Dylan followed up, explaining who Roman Hadley was, his strange connection to them, and the fact that they were now learning from her son that Hadley was a listener also. Under normal circumstances, she would not be privy to such information regarding the society, but these were not normal circumstances, and her son might be in danger as a result of this person. Dylan also explained that they believed Ryan; they had proof of his abilities.
“Great,” she said. “But you know what? This is my fault, anyway. Had I never brought him to you all in the first place, none of this would be happening. This is precisely why I didn’t want my son connected or identified in any way. Do you see that now, Ryan?”
“Please, don’t,” Susan said. “Blaming him, or yourself, won’t make his psychic abilities disappear. I understand your fear, your frustration. We can work through this, I promise. Please let me help you; this is what I do.”
Annie sighed in what almost felt like relief, but more like abandon. It was not that she felt a momentary like for Susan Logan; it was because she had nowhere to turn, nowhere to hide from it anymore. Everything that had been hidden was suddenly coming into the light. She had no other choice; her son’s safety was now in question.
“You know,” Dylan said to her, “you might want to tell us exactly why you’re so afraid of Ryan’s ability.”
“No, not right now,” Susan interrupted. “Let’s save that for later. Right now, why don’t we discuss how to go about investigating Hadley? What should we do? Do we call the police or the FBI? I mean, Hadley was with the FBI once wasn’t he?”
They mentioned alerting the rest of the board members in case they heard from Hadley, and the fact that all they had to go on, or give to the authorities, was Ryan’s proficiency in remote hearing. While that might be good enough for the board, it wouldn’t work for the police, although the FBI had been acquainted with remote hearing.
Annie wrapped her arm around her son’s shoulders, while sadness streaked across her face. Ryan then broke the congested silence that followed the deep discussion.
“I have to go to the bathroom.”
There was light laughter. Susan agreed, suggesting a quick break. They rose from the table to momentarily adjourn. Ryan walked out the door as they were cleaning up and walked down the hall—to the men’s room.
* * * *
Like most public men’s rooms, the light was on when he entered. The sterile smell of hospital clean invaded his nostrils as he stood at one of the urinals. Two stalls stood at his left, and though he could see no feet underneath, he fought a strange sensation of a presence in there. When he finished, he turned his head sideways to look again—no feet, no shadows.
He washed his hands at the sink as he always did, then pulled two brown paper towels, the kind that smelled like cardboard, from the dispenser and wiped his hands dry. There were no sounds around, at least there weren’t over the running water and the thrashing paper. Then there were no sounds at all as the deafness occurred.
He hadn’t expected it now. His body numbed, stunned into distraction, the paper towels falling to the floor. He lifted his head up, as though listening to a voice from above. It was his father...
“Ryan! Get out! Leave that room, right now!”
His breathing heaved up and down as the fear struck him instantly. He tried to run for the door, but strong hands grabbed him from behind. Suddenly, all he could smell now was the scent of almonds, thick and heavy through his nostrils, and instantly, he fell fast asleep in the arms of a stranger.
* * * *
Annie sat in the lounge with Brett and Dylan, nervously listening to their conversation about this Hadley person and stunned at what was unfolding. The more she heard, the more she thought of her son being stalked by someone with the same ability; it was unthinkable. For just a passing second, she wished Ian were here. She continued to sit and stare, mesmerized by the fears that gripped her heart and the thoughts that ravaged her mind.
Susan and the Leeds girl returned from the ladies’ room that had only been a quick jaunt across the hall. It had been five minutes since Ryan ventured to the same general area.
“So, have we decided whether to call the FBI, at least to run a check on Hadley?”
Susan asked the team, as though a decision had already been reached. What seemed to trouble Annie even more was that the team had no doubts about Ryan. If they had, maybe this whole thing would go away.
“You know, this is all starting to make sense,” Dylan said to the rest. “Hadley seemed to know everything, where we were, what we were doing; he knew things about Tracy Kimball, and details of our cases before we divulged anything. Of course he’s a listener, and you know, Sidney suspected him of having some type of psychic ability.”
“He’s been listening, or should I say, ‘eavesdropping,’ on us the entire time,” Leah said, angrily.
They began talking more about Hadley and to what secret project Ryan could possibly be referring.
Ryan. She was snapped out of her reverie by the thought of her son. She looked at her watch; ten minutes had passed since Ryan went to the restroom.
“Did either of you see Ryan in the hallway?” She asked the two ladies, who hadn’t.
She pointed to her watch.
“He’s been gone for ten minutes. What could be taking him so long?”
Her tone was not yet alarm, but concern. They exchanged glances, as though they knew she was right.
“I’ll go and check on him,” Brett said, casually, hinting at overreaction. He stood from the table and left the lounge in search of Ryan.
Susan resumed the conversation, telling her that she wanted to schedule a session with everyone present, including Ryan. Annie nodded her head in distracted consent, keeping her eyes focused on the door.
* * * *
Brett pushed the door of the men’s room open and walked inside; it was silent except for the sound of the whooshing vacuum pull of the door as he entered.
“Ryan?” His voice bounced off the tiled walls and echoed back to him. “Ryan, are you in here?”
He walked past the sinks and the mirror, oblivious of the paper towels on the floor, and approached the urinals—no one.
“Ryan?” He called out again as he reached the stalls, knocking on the first of two. “Ryan, are you in there?” The stall door was ajar, and with a tap, he pushed it back. No one was inside. Quickly he pushed the second stall door open, and again, no one was there. Where was he?
His heart began to race at the thought that was now looming as a reality. How could he be lost, he was only right down the hallway? Brett strode
fast for the exit, and then noticed two paper towels on the floor.
He swung the door wide behind him as he ran out, calling Ryan’s name aloud through the hospital hallway. The same nurse who had kept them posted on Sidney’s condition ran over to him.
“Mr. Taylor, what’s wrong?”
“Did you see that kid that was with us in the lounge? He walked down here to the men’s room, and he’s been gone for ten minutes. He’s not in there...”
“Well, maybe he’s back in the lounge?”
Brett sighed in irritation of her. Why did all stupid questions come in times of emergency? No, he thought, there was no way he could have missed him.
He flung the lounge door open and looked inside—no Ryan. The looks of expectancy on their faces greeted him in anticipation. He hated being the bearer of bad news, confirming that instinct that Annie wore well on her face.
“Ryan’s gone!”
Collective gasps showered the lounge like steam, and they jumped from their chairs at the words that Brett nearly shouted. Dylan ran past Brett and out into hallway, suspecting that some silly oversight was the issue, or maybe Ryan had gone down to the hospitality shop. Leah trailed behind him.
Susan grasped Brett by the shoulders with a firm hold.
“Tell us everything,” she said.
Brett looked at Annie, who was standing from her chair, frozen, her frenzied, fearful eyes hoping for a mistake. He suddenly felt the guilt of assuring Ryan that he’d be safe with them in a hospital.
“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t find him,” he said to her.
“Brett,” Susan cried, “Tell us!”
He told how he’d gone to the men’s room, and how it had been vacant—Ryan was nowhere inside. The only thing he’d found were two paper towels on the floor, but anyone could have dropped them.
“Well, he could still be here,” Susan said. “He may have wandered off somewhere.”
“That’s right,” Dylan said. “Leah and I are going to look for him. He may have gone down to the hospitality shop, and it’s very easy to get lost around here. Let’s not overreact yet. I mean, Ryan did sneak off to come here, didn’t he?”
Brett could see that the notion didn’t console Annie at all. He went over to her and put his arm around her. The tears welled up in her eyes.
“Not this time,” she said. “I had the oddest feeling before I sent you to look for him. I’ve got to go find him!”
Suddenly, she ran out of the lounge and into the hallway, screaming for her son.
* * * *
“Ryan! Ryan!”
Her screams rang out through the hospital floor as she burst from the lounge in unhinged panic. Heads turned toward her, and two nurses ran to her sides, catching her flailing body and holding her. Susan realized that the situation had now gone beyond rationalization. If Ryan was kidnapped from this hospital, it was her job to act immediately; she had no other choice.
Two armed, hospital security guards ran to the scene, approaching Susan.
“Security, get the hospital in lock-down, immediately! We have a child missing, and there is reason to believe he was kidnapped from this hospital, in between now and fifteen minutes ago. I will notify our chief, Dr. Kemp.”
The officers nodded and radioed down to the security hub. Suddenly, all electric doors in the hospital automatically closed by computerized command, the matching glass gateways interlocking with a loud beeping that meant safe, secure, but also quarantine. The officers continued to radio, and a hospital security search ensued.
Susan ordered a nurse to sedate Annie, whose screams grew louder in protest, but still the syringe found its way into her arm.
“Annie, we’re all going to find him,” Susan reassured her. “But right now, you are in no condition to.” She had her admitted into a room, and soon a wheelchair whisked Annie away, the sedative quickly setting by the sign of sinking eyelids.
Dylan and Leah stepped off the elevator, arriving back from the hospitality shop, the lobby, the vending machines, and any other area to which Ryan could have wandered.
“We couldn’t find him,” Dylan said. “He’s gone.”
“I know. The hospital is now in lock-down,” she said.
“Susan?” Behind her, Greg Talbot approached. The nurse had said he’d be by soon. “What’s going on? What’s this about a lockdown?”
“Long story, but there was a guest here for Sidney, a child. We suspect he was kidnapped from the hospital only moments ago.”
“I take it this has something to do with my patient?” Greg asked in a stern, authoritative manner.
“Yes, it does,” she said.
“Then Sidney is not to hear one word of this, at least, not now anyway.”
“Sidney?” She asked, almost forgetting amid the confusion. “You mean?”
“That’s what I came to tell you all. Sidney Pratt is awake.”
Chapter Eight
Quick embraces of relief were exchanged at the news: Sidney was going to be all right. Brett looked upward, thanking God, and Leah hung her head as the tears dropped from her eyes.
“When can we see him?” Susan asked, dropping her hands from the lower part of her face where she’d held them in joyful surprise.
“I will let two of you in at a time,” he said. “But when you go in there, remember that he is still in recovery; there is to be no excitement, no pressure, and not a word of what has happened here, understand?”
They agreed, and Talbot left, promising to return when he felt his patient was ready to see them. Then, hospital security approached Susan.
“Dr. Logan, we’ve conducted a search of the hospital grounds, inside and out; we’ve turned up nothing. We’re about to notify the police.”
“On second thought,” she said. “I insist that the FBI be called instead. The Bureau will have better knowledge of this situation given the circumstances of it, and because there is a suspect in this case, they may use more discretion, which may be important in finding the boy. I will be treating the boy’s mother, so I am her attending physician.”
“Right away, Dr. Logan.” The main security officer stepped away, radioing her instructions as ordered. The same attending nurse approached her just then.
“Dr. Talbot says two of you may go in first to see Sidney, Dr. Logan, but not more than five minutes.”
Susan thanked her, and then decided that she and Dylan should go first; Leah and Brett returned to the lounge. As the nurse led them through two extended corridors to the ICU, Susan and Dylan remained quiet, hopeful, and careful to suppress any hint of fraught emotions in front of him.
The ICU was a collection of triage units assembled in close proximity next to each other in a classic hospital ward setting. Random beeping co-existed with the sounds of pulsing respirators and the soft-spoken tones of patients and nurses. There was a fear here, just as present as the sickly smell, and Susan could sense it. The look on Dylan’s face silently agreed.
Sidney’s eyes were closed in soft slumber, his body tucked tightly into the bed that seemed to be a part of him. He looked defenseless without his glasses, his face puffed and swollen, and layers of white bandage wrapped securely around the crown of his head. Susan recognized the fear on Dylan’s face at seeing him, so she leaned over to Sidney’s ear and softly whispered his name.
His eyelids fluttered open and gazed back at her.
“Sidney? How is my little boy?” That’s exactly what she felt he was at this moment. No matter how much older he’d become through the years, she kept seeing the little boy that came into her office around twenty years ago with two prodigal parents both afraid and resentful of him.
“Susan.” His voice was soft, sleepy, and dry.
“That’s right,” she said. “And Dylan is here too.”
“Hey, Sid,” he whispered, stepping forward, trying to control the creaking in his voice. “You gave us all one hell of a scare. You’ve got to relax and get better for us.”
Sidney seemed to answe
r with a motioning movement of his eyes. Then, the first question he asked caught them both off guard.
“Where’s Ryan?” His words were slow and slurred, but unmistakable. Susan sat speechless and turned her head toward Dylan. His wide-eyed alarm relayed to her that he was as equally dumbfounded and scrambling for the right response. She turned back to Sidney.
“Ryan is okay, Sidney. He wants to see you as soon as it’s possible, but you have to rest now. Brett and Leah may be in to see you also. You know we’ve all been here for you.” The question she was sure he would ask came next.
“What happened?”
“You had a cerebral hemorrhage, Sidney. You’ve had surgery, and according to the doctor, you’re going to be fine.” She detected a slight scoff under his weakened breath that told her Sidney Pratt would pull through. She instructed him to get more rest, and told him they would return soon.
“Don’t worry about anything, Sid,” Dylan said. “Everything’s under control.”
They left the ICU as he closed his eyes again, and once they were a significant length down the hall, they turned to face each other.
“I’m not very comfortable with the fact that you just lied to him,” Dylan said. “Sidney knows something is amiss—that’s just him; it’s the way he is. And you didn’t even know Ryan before tonight; you don’t think he picked up on that?”
“What do you suggest I should have done, tell him the truth? ‘Well, gee, Sidney, I’m sorry, but Ryan was abducted from this hospital. But everything’s okay, we’ll find him.’ Really, Dylan, do you want him to have a setback, another hemorrhage? ‘Everything is under control.’ Why didn’t you just tell him everything for chrissake?”
“According to Ryan, Sidney heard him the night of the accident. What if Ryan is calling out to Sidney now? If so, there’s a chance we could find him.”
Susan stopped walking at the realization, and then turned to him, issuing a frustrated sigh.
“Dylan, we are just going to have to wait and see.”
The Listener Page 10
