The Listener

by Christopher Carrolli

  * * * *

  Leah watched the entranceway from afar and prayed.

  “Oh, God,” she said. “What are we going to tell Sidney, if she doesn’t make it out?” The tone of her voice was tortured by continuous fear and tragedy. The looks on the rest of their faces didn’t console her, as they looked away or intently at her with fear and despair, preparing for the inevitable.

  They heard a rumbling noise as the ground quaked beneath their feet. It was no earthquake, not here. Off in the distance to the right of where they assembled, a bright flash of white and orange erupted from the ground, the rumbling sound segueing into the splitting, cracking clamor of explosion.

  But as quickly as they cowered, they jumped to their feet, and several officers ran toward the entrance as two figures emerged from it.

  They watched as Wiley bolted from the entrance, clutching Susan in his arms. Then the ground convulsed beneath them all, and they swayed back and forth trying to maintain balance. The roar of the blast ripped around them, loud, threatening, traumatically magnifying the fear of death. Leah watched as the orange fireball now reached for the sky, flinging debris high into the air to rain down upon them, just as her third eye had shown her.

  Bits of stone, wood, and metal were falling from the sky, along with the floating flickers of flame that danced with the cold wind. Though the blast had knocked them to the ground, Wiley and Susan made it safely away with only mere seconds sparing their lives. The officers ran over to them, helping them away from the collapsed entrance.

  Susan’s frenzied hysteria was somewhat softened by the shock of the blast into desperate moans and mourning wails that led to heaving breaths of hyperventilation. They sat her down on the hood of Brett’s car, and Leah held her closely as the rest gathered around her.

  “It’s going to be all right, now, Susan,” Leah said. “You’ll see.” She rocked her back and forth. “Come back to us; we need you.”

  In the distance, the sounds of approaching ambulance sirens combined with the whines of fire engines, brazenly blaring out through the vast, quiet district that had otherwise remained silent.

  They strapped Susan to a gurney when they arrived, the shock causing her body to tremble in trauma. Leah held her hand, finding herself riding in yet another ambulance.

  “She’ll be all right,” the EMT said. “Shock—it’ll wear off.” They began to fuss over Wiley, who kept insisting that he was fine, but standard procedure prevailed. He was examined and deemed uninjured.

  “I want you to take the boy; he needs to be looked at,” Wiley said, and walked over to Ryan. “Everything is going to be okay, Ryan. I’m going to call your mother, and she will meet us at the hospital. If everything checks out, you can go home.”

  The color was already returning to Ryan’s face, flushing away the paleness from his brief stint underground, and Wiley’s words struck relief in the hearts of the investigators; it had been a long week...

  Chapter Nineteen

  At the hospital, Annie Quinn had been waiting for her son, and when the investigators walked through the ER doors with him, he ran into her open arms. She remained with him as he was examined and pronounced healthy and unharmed. Ryan was free to return home and resume his life.

  She thanked Agent Wiley for finding her son.

  “I appreciate that,” he said. “But mainly, you have these two ladies to thank for getting Ryan back so quickly.” Wiley explained to her the role that Ursula played and how Leah’s vision had come to her.

  “How do I ever thank you?” she said to Ursula. “Thank you for saving him, for risking your life.”

  Ursula assured her that she only did what anyone else would have. Annie then turned to Leah.

  “You, I am forever in your debt,” she said, “both of you.” Like Ursula, Leah downplayed her actions, and then answered the question Annie stuttered in asking. Wiley had told her of Leah’s vision.

  “Yes, it was him,” Leah said, before she could finish. “Ryan’s father saved him tonight.”

  Annie lowered her head, stunned and saddened by the slightest tinge of regret.

  Susan was treated for shock, sedated, and admitted overnight. Leah and the rest of the team had left her sleeping soundly in the hospital room. They made one last stop before calling it a day, and that was to see Sidney...

  * * * *

  Ryan ran into the room and hugged him gently. Sidney was thrilled to see him and equally surprised to see the joy in Annie’s face.

  “I’m so glad you’re here, Ryan,” he said. “I thank God they found you, and I am so sorry that you got mixed up in all of this.”

  “No, Sidney. It was me who called out to you; I wanted to help.”

  Just then, Annie broke in.

  “Yeah, and if he wouldn’t have snuck out on me, he wouldn’t have ended up where he did, now would he?” She said this to her son, and then turned her attention to Sidney.

  “I want you to know, all of you,” she said, looking around, “that I don’t blame any of you for this. I understand a lot more now than I ever did. I also realize that I am partially responsible for this, if I hadn’t ignored my son—”

  “Don’t,” Sidney said. “You were faced with something that is very hard to understand, that is frightening to most people, and extremely difficult to comprehend. I don’t blame my parents for their response to my ability; I just thought they loved me more than their fear. But everyone can see, Annie, that you love your son very much.”

  “Yes,” Leah said. “You suffered Hell in your own life because of someone who abused their ability, used it in ways to harm. I understand that about you now.”

  Leah touched Annie’s shoulder then said softly,

  “And in the end, he redeemed himself.”

  The wide-eyed wonder in Annie’s eyes met the look of unsurprised experience in the eyes of the seer.

  “Well, I say we all go home and get some much needed rest,” Dylan said. “Because there is one more thing: Wiley wants to meet with us all in a few days, as soon as Susan is able to be here. He says there are unanswered questions that he hopes to be able to answer by then.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” Sidney said, pointing to the various monitors that surrounded him and sounding more like himself every minute.

  Then sleepy heads stirred, while yawns of exhaustion began to spread in contagion. They exchanged their nightly goodbyes and turned to leave, when Dylan spoke up again.

  “Oh, yeah, by the way, Sid, we may have another investigator on our hands.”

  “Really?” Sidney said, lifting his head, his distraction interrupted.

  “Yeah, she’s the listener who helped us find Ryan. I think you’re going to like her; she’s amazing. Her name is Ursula.”

  Dylan’s teasing of the truth ignited small smirks of laughter from the team.

  “Oh, I see,” Sidney said. “Replaced me already, huh? Fine, get out. What the hell kind of a name is Ursula anyway?”

  The laughter became louder out in the corridor.

  * * * *

  Sidney sat back in bed, impressed that his sense of humor had returned after everything. Now as the room was silent and the outside dusk turned into night, the seriousness set in with it. He sat and thought about how Hadley had been conning them the whole time, stalking him over his ability, then turning to Ryan, an innocent child.

  He realized that when he’d heard Mark’s voice as a boy, he’d been tracking him not only over his ability, but as a connection to Susan. He had been following her all these years, through him. He felt slightly angered at the time wasted not recognizing that Hadley’s voice and Mark’s were one and the same. He felt as though he had failed Susan; he was devastated by her broken heart.

  But then he thought of Tracy Kimball, and how she’d brought it all together for him, inducing him to remember the voices. He’d always known that there was life after death, but now he’d seen it. His heart would always be grateful toward her, and he felt the presence of a frien
d watching over him.

  Chapter Twenty

  Another three days had passed since Ryan was found, three days since the truth about Hadley, not to mention the explosion, had left Susan in a state of shock. Now, Sidney became anxious to leave the hospital; he could recover just as well in bed at home. Dr. Talbot had taken it as a good sign; Sidney was even up and walking for a brief period every day. But today, he ordered that Sidney be brought to Wiley’s meeting in a wheelchair.

  Sidney dreaded having to listen to the details of what Wiley had uncovered regarding Hadley, or Mark, that is. He worried about how much more of the details Susan could bear. How much more could her already broken heart endure? She had been released yesterday, and Sidney was allowed to see her beforehand, with his nurse and a wheelchair, of course. It was the first time he’d seen her since the explosion.

  She appeared forlorn, distracted by some vivid world of past memories that kept her prisoner. Her eyes were lifeless, devoid of that spark that made her Susan.

  “Hello, Sidney,” she said to him in a flat, even tone. “How are you?”

  “Not me,” he said. “How are you?”

  She shrugged.

  “You were right, Sidney. It was him, and all these years I’d wondered...” Her words were slow, dramatically drawn, her eyes squinting and gazing indirectly, remembering the years. She shook her head and looked at him.

  “I’ll be all right, Sidney, just going to take some getting over. I still don’t believe it,” she said, now looking him straight in the eyes.

  “I know,” he said. “But we are all here for you, Susan, especially me.”

  Now, he was being wheeled to the meeting in the lounge where it had all begun. Wiley felt that it was more suitable than squeezing everyone into Sidney’s room. Susan would be there, as well as the team, Ryan and Annie, and this young woman that he kept hearing about, who helped find Ryan.

  His nurse propped the lounge door open and wheeled him inside. Everyone’s faces met his, as though he were the awaited guest, yet he wasn’t. Susan was there, looking a little better than the day before, but expressionless, saddened. Dylan, Brett, Leah, and Annie were standing alongside a short young woman with dark hair and beautiful eyes.

  “Sidney, this is Ursula,” Dylan said, introducing her. She stepped forward and extended her hand, offering a handshake.

  Sidney reached from the chair and shook her hand.

  “Ursula, this is Sidney Pratt,” Dylan concluded.

  “Ursula, what a beautiful name,” Sidney said, as Dylan cleared his throat, and Brett and Leah hung their heads, biting their lips.

  “Thank you,” she said. “It’s so nice to meet you, Sidney.”

  “Thank you, Ursula, for all you’ve done for Ryan and for us. You’re a real hero or heroine...” She laughed at his flattery. “So, I hear you’re quite the clairaudient?”

  “Yes, well, I’ve heard the same of you,” she said.

  “Yeah, well, let’s compare notes sometime soon.” Sidney’s voice no longer threatened to provoke laughter from his colleagues.

  “I’d love to,” she said.

  Ryan hugged Sidney when he saw him, and they all exchanged greetings, then changed the subject, while they waited for Wiley to arrive.

  * * * *

  Wiley rode in the elevator on his way to the lounge. He dreaded this meeting only because of Susan Logan, but this mystery was about to be revealed once and for all, and the sooner the better. Susan was about to discover everything that had happened to Mark, and it was all because of the envelope he held in his hand.

  Since the explosion, the Bureau had obtained something they were never in possession of before, during the investigation of Roman Hadley: his true identity. Once they began to investigate the name Mark Banner, the mystery of Roman Hadley had unfolded. The group had worked wonders in eradicating his true identity, but Mark had left something behind, something they hadn’t noticed.

  He hadn’t kept a journal; that would have been too risky. But he did manage to document his entire story, leaving it behind in a twenty page letter addressed to Susan Logan. It had been uncovered in a safety deposit box in a bank in Pittsburgh, and now Wiley would deliver it to Susan, though not before explaining the story to everyone. He stuck the letter back in his inner jacket pocket; he would hand it to her after he spoke, deciding it was more appropriate.

  Perspiration gathered on his forehead at the given task.

  Tensions seemed to both ease and stir as he opened the door to the lounge and entered; expectant faces stared back at him in anticipation. He asked everyone to be seated so that he could begin.

  The younger members of the group sat around the table, except Leah, who took a seat next to Susan on the couch.

  “Let me start by saying that you all know how and why we became involved in what occurred this past week, and why we’re here. A man most of you knew as a university benefactor and head coordinator of the Paranormal Research and Investigative Society kidnapped a young boy. The man you knew of as Roman Hadley was an imposter.

  “Hadley was using the society as a cover for his real involvement with a rogue group of psychics, once part of the FBI’s remote psychic studies until they disappeared into thin air, having evaded us for many years. They’d been conducting remote viewing and listening studies on their own and committing various acts of espionage, all through the use of psychic abilities.”

  This is the part that made him squeamish. He looked at Susan, as though cuing her to be ready.

  “Hadley’s real identity was that of Mark Steven Banner, a former associate of our friend, Dr. Logan.” Wiley regretted using the formality of associate; he never meant to minimize who Mark was to her. Normally, he wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but he’d become fond of Susan Logan.

  “We now have reason to believe that Hadley, or should I say, Mark’s involvement was not entirely voluntary. We’ve discovered falsified documents stating that Mark Banner was classified MIA during Vietnam. In fact, he had never been a POW. The group had abducted him from Vietnam, after an incident took place over there that roused attention to his psychic ability, an ability of which, Dr. Logan, I assume you were aware?”

  His tone was rational and appeasing when he asked her. She cast her eyes downward then stood and walked to the coffee bar, her back turned.

  “I’d assumed he’d died; I never saw any need to mention that he was a clairaudient. When Sidney first heard Mark, I wanted to know more, but I didn’t tell him why. Sidney had assumed Mark was dead because as a child, he only knew he was capable of hearing the dead speak to him.” A brief pause filled the room as she stirred her coffee. “We were going to be married, but he never came home.” Her voice sounded lost, and when another appropriate pause had passed, Wiley continued.

  “Eventually, the group threatened him and his loved ones, forcing him to remain, to live out his life toward their goals and the exploration of who he was psychically. They even resorted to blackmail, framing him as an accomplice, much as he’d almost done to Ursula, even threatening to twist the story of how he got there and threatening him with court marshal.

  “The group had assigned him a new identity, that of Roman Hadley, an FBI agent; the cover would pass for many years under our noses. The years of his compliance were luxuriously compensated with whatever he wanted; however, it didn’t compensate for the life that was stolen from him, nor the love that was stolen from him.”

  He spoke those words in Susan’s direction. She was listening while her eyes were gazing at the opposite wall; she’d been transfixed in thought ever since he mentioned Mark’s loved ones being threatened.

  “He searched for a way out, but the hierarchy of authority within this group changed hands over the years, constantly monitoring his every move, probing his thoughts with their own telepathic minds, clairaudient ears, and watchful eyes. He became virtually a psychic prisoner.

  “Through the years, Hadley’s clairaudient and telepathic abilities had waned.
He was not as useful in his latter age to the group as he once was. After studying Sidney Pratt for many years, a new possibility presented itself to Hadley and the group.”

  “Ryan,” Sidney interjected.

  “Yes,” Wiley said. “With the discovery of Ryan, the group found someone that could possibly take them to heights never reached before, and Hadley also got a way out, that is, if they would have let him go. You see, they needed Hadley to run things; we’re sure of that. But what we’re unable to understand is why these people could not be a visible factor in their operation. It was so clandestine that Hadley himself mimicked the anonymity with the paranormal society. Why couldn’t these people be seen?

  “Hadley was eventually torn between bargaining, that is, trading himself for Ryan, or mutinying, disappearing, and leaving Ryan behind to be discovered. The growing amount of pressure he was under was insurmountable, possibly edging him toward a breakdown.”

  “Well, wait a minute,” Sidney said. “How do you know all of this?” The other investigators looked at Wiley with the same curiosity. He pulled the envelope from his pocket.

  “Hadley had left behind a long letter for Dr. Logan,” he said, watching her turn her face sideways to him. “He explains everything from the very beginning into today. I am sorry that we had to intercept the letter, Susan, but it is evidence in an investigation. At this point, the original copy now belongs to you.”

  He handed it to her, and she simply stared at her name on the opened envelope written in Mark’s handwriting. Wiley could see that she didn’t have the courage to read it now; she would save it for later.

  “Susan,” Wiley said. “There is more to the blackmail than just the frame-up job. I think if I reveal it now, it would be better for you to hear it that way. It’s your call.”

  “Go ahead,” she said, taking a deep breath and sitting back down.