Simon leaned against the boulder in his dream and a girl walked up to him. It was me, and when the dream-me reached up to kiss him, I jerked out of his mind again. I wasn’t ready to replay that bit of disaster—the moment when I decided to be Simon Zagan’s girlfriend. Not the best choice I’ve ever made.
Simon’s body calmed, but his legs were still crooked from his earlier trauma. His breathing evened out, and the wheezing seemed less pronounced. My muscles relaxed from the constant tension of the last three days, and I sank deeper into the thin cot. I closed my eyes and tried to summon my own safe dreams to lull me into a peaceful sleep.
Something that didn’t involve someone dying.
I imagined Raf, holding my hand in the car as we hid behind the hedge. In my daydream, Kestrel never came careening around the corner, and Raf slowly leaned toward me. He was going to kiss me, and this time I wouldn’t stop him. This time I would find out if his lips were as soft as they looked.
A hiss whispered in my ear. I cursed inwardly and added snakes to the perils that haunted us in the Camp of the Flies. Then I caught a faint whiff of orange spice and opened my eyes. Mist rose from the floor.
The gas.
I rolled out of the cot I shared with Laney and onto my feet. The mist was already numbing my mind, its tendrils winding through the room and seeming to come from everywhere. I focused inward and sped up my heart rate from jittery panic to full-blown pounding. My head throbbed, but the extra blood pumped out the juice that was clouding my thinking. Unfortunately, each new rasping breath brought another lungful of gas. I ripped off my pillowcase and covered my nose and mouth. It already smelled of orange spice.
I couldn’t hold my breath and make my heart beat out of my chest at the same time. I had to get out of the barrack and dilute the gas somehow. I linked gently into Laney and Simon’s minds. They were well under the influence of the gas, deep in an unconscious state. Hopefully the rest of the camp was as well.
I tore open the barrack door and lurched out into the moonlit gap between the buildings. The gas was less concentrated outside, but it still swirled in an orange fog around my bare feet as I strode toward the common space between Block C and Block B. I kept the pillowcase over my nose and mouth and slinked into the shadows close to the barrack wall. Bodies of the Block B crew lay crumpled on the ground. The gas must have claimed them while they kept watch.
Even through the pillowcase, my gasping breaths sounded loud in the quiet night air. My heart was pounding a pulse in my head that raced to keep the gas at bay. I sprinted down the wide corridors between blocks, and the desert rocks bit into the soles of my feet. I scanned for any movement from jackers who might have eluded the gas. There was nothing but stillness until I arrived at the depot.
Men garbed in black poured from one of the two trucks parked by the gate. Gas masks obscured their faces, making them look like freakish insects. They formed a protective circle around both vehicles. Their rifles glinted in their hands as they scanned for jackers that might be resisting the effects of the gas.
Like me.
I skittered into the shadow of a nearby barrack and lightly probed the minds of the well-armed guards. They were wary, but not overly anxious. No one had overcome the effects of the gas before, yet they were prepared for the unexpected. Although most of them were readers, there was one jacker in the lead. Their thoughts overlapped, like one beast with ten pairs of eyes that could see in every direction. I could easily jack the readers but the jacker guard was like a live-wire waiting to trip. I pulled back in case he sensed me lurking at the edge of his mind.
The second truck pulled up to the depot door, and a thick mechanical tongue extended to where two rifle-less guards stood waiting. Crates about the size of my cot slowly started to travel down the conveyor belt.
A man in a long black coat, face also obscured by a gas mask, stepped around the first truck. He grasped an e-slate in his hand and set off toward the closest barrack, accompanied by two armed guards. No doubt searching for fresh victims for the government’s experiments.
I stayed in the shadows.
Slate Man and his two goons returned with the limp body of a young jacker in their arms. She couldn’t be any more than fourteen. My throat closed up as I watched them load her into the first truck. Then they headed straight toward me.
I scurried back along the wall and around the corner, out of their view. Their boots scuffed the ground nearby, and I muffled my heavy breathing with the pillowcase. The trio’s determined steps faded. What if they were heading to Block C? I huddled out of sight and strained to listen. I didn’t dare brush into their minds in case they were jackers and could sense me so close by.
The pounding of my heart was starting to take a toll. I leaned against the wall as a wave of dizziness swept through me. My chest ached. Was I giving myself a heart attack? I pressed my forehead against the cool wall and focused on slowing my heart a little, enough to keep the dizziness under control. Only each gulping breath brought more gas, and my mind was starting to fuzz out.
I wasn’t going to last until the guards finished unloading.
I edged back around the barrack to check the progress at the depot. Maybe I could jack the guards unloading the crates to look the other way while I slipped inside. I brushed their minds, but pulled back quickly. Jackers.
The rough scraping of boots on dirt sounded to my right, and I flattened myself against the wall. The footsteps shuffled along, and when the guards swung into view, they carried a fresh victim between them, another girl, even younger this time. With dark brown hair.
Laney.
No! I lurched out from the shadows before I could stop myself. My hands twitched with the need to do something, anything, but what? Before they could catch sight of me, I ordered the two guards carrying her to Put her down! I would knock all three of them out as soon as Laney was safely on the ground. They readily obeyed my command, stopping in their tracks and slowly lowering her to the ground. But Slate Man was a jacker. Keep going! he overrode my command and quickly cast his mind out searching for me. I glimpsed two piercing blue eyes behind the mask. Kestrel! I tried to disappear back into the shadows and hoped he wouldn’t detect the blank spot of my mind, but it was the movement that caught his eye and gave me away.
Kestrel grabbed a pistol from the guard’s holster, and the pop of the gun split the quiet air.
A sharp pain stabbed my leg, and I fell to the ground. Two more jabbed my back, but I hardly felt them.
I slipped into a deep orange-colored haze.
I struggled through the orange-flavored fuzz, but couldn’t pry open my eyes. My dry tongue scraped uselessly against the roof of my mouth. I groaned my frustration and a hand clasped my arm. Instinctively, I gasped and lunged out with my mind.
Hey! It’s just me, Simon thought as I plunged into his mind. I stilled and tried again to force open my eyes.
What happened? I linked the thought to him, unable to form words with my drug-disabled mouth.
I found you by Block E, near the depot, he thought. You must have been some kind of raging elephant, because it took three darts for them to take you down. There was a strange undercurrent of pride in his thoughts that didn’t make any sense to me.
Darts? I recalled Kestrel and his victims. Laney!
I jerked upright, yanked my eyes open, and cringed against the barrack lights and morning sun. Half-blind, I patted the cot next to me, but I knew Laney wasn’t there.
Laney’s gone, Simon thought.
No!
Maybe I distracted them. Maybe they dropped her and left after they shot me. I stretched my mind out, roaming lightly over all the Clan members in Block C. She wasn’t there. Maybe some other Clan had taken her in. I stretched and found I could reach Block B. I skimmed across the dozens of minds packed into the safety of their barracks. Still nothing. I kept stretching. It didn’t seem like I should be able to reach so far, but then I had never really tried before. There had been no reason to. But now I rea
ched and scanned every barrack in the camp, stopping at each of the thousand minds long enough to know they weren’t Laney. They weren’t the little girl who had already suffered too much for the non-crime of being a jacker kid.
No! No. But I couldn’t find her anywhere in the camp.
I’m sorry, thought Simon.
Why? The thought ripped through me and came out as an animal sound in my parched throat. Why did they take her and not me?
I don’t know. Simon’s thoughts were genuinely puzzled, like he knew as well as I did that it was some kind of cruel joke. Some horrible trick to take little Laney, who was too young to have even broken curfew, and yet leave me behind, probably the most mutant jacker of all. I hung my head and tried to swallow down the pain of that thought.
Simon hesitantly put his hand on my shoulder. When I didn’t shove his hand away, he lightly rubbed my back. I’m so sorry, Kira.
It’s not right. I retreated from his mind to my own, where no one could hear the thoughts running through it. Thoughts about how I had failed—failed to conquer the gas, failed to get the food from the depot, failed to stop them from taking Laney.
“None of it’s right,” Simon said softly. He tipped my chin up with his finger. “But you did a pretty good job of convincing Molloy to keep you around.”
“What? But…” The words caught on the dryness of my throat and made me cough.
Simon hopped off my cot and fetched a water bottle from our meager stash of supplies by the door. I gulped it down, washing away the dirt and the orange aftertaste. I wished I could wash away my guilt for losing Laney along with it.
When my mouth could function again, I rasped out, “What are you talking about? I didn’t get the food. And they took Laney!”
Simon rested his hand on mine. “Laney was probably the only other Clan member, besides yourself, that they could have taken and Molloy would have forgiven you for.” He cracked a smile. “Although he probably wouldn’t have missed me much.”
It still didn’t make sense. Laney was new to the Clan, but her disappearance only proved that I had failed. Simon cocked his head. “Molloy’s not a monster,” he said. “Well, not completely a monster. He knows you were trying to protect Laney, and that means something to him. The fact that you made it out to the depot, and they had to stop you with darts, convinced him pretty well that you were the real deal.”
“So.” I had to stop to take another drink of water. “So, he’s letting me stay in Block C?”
“Yeah,” he said. “And Molloy’s put the word out to the Clans seeking to ally with Block C to search for Laney. He thinks one of the others might have taken her in.”
My shoulders sagged. “She’s gone.” Although it was reassuring that Molloy was at least trying to find her. He really did look out for the changelings, as well as the rest of his Clan. I understood a little better what he meant by “family” now.
Simon gently squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t give up hope. They may have forgotten about her, once they had you to contend with.”
“No, you don’t understand,” I said. “I searched the camp. She’s not here.”
He drew back. “You’ve been out for hours, Kira. Ever since I found you near the depot.” His eyes went wide. “Wait. You mean you searched with your mind? How far can you reach?”
“Far enough.” Simon probably saved my life by bringing me back before some praver found me lying in the dirt. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to trust him.
He seemed to think my brain was still fuzzed on juice. “You’re sure she’s not here?” The answer was plain on my face. “You searched the entire camp?” There was a new wonder in his voice. “Kira, that’s…” The gears were turning in his head, but what did it matter? “The camp’s over a thousand feet per side, Kira. Can you really reach that far? How about control? Can you jack that far?”
I looked away from him. It didn’t matter. All it meant was that Laney was gone. And I was an even a bigger freak. Why hadn’t they taken me? Why did Kestrel leave me behind, while taking Laney for some hideous experiment? My body shook with a cold-sweat chill. It wasn’t right.
“Because if you can,” he said, pulling my face back to his, “we might have a way out of here.”
That got my attention. “What do you mean?”
Furious thinking and giddy excitement warred on his face. “The camp is surrounded by electrified fences. They’re buried below the ground level, too. The only way in or out is through the gates.”
“Why doesn’t someone hijack the newcomer truck and ride that back out?”
“The truck and the perimeter are gassed whenever the newcomer truck leaves. Everything’s remote-controlled, and they must have cameras somewhere because if someone tries to escape through the gate, they turn on the gas. But,” he said, his voice rising a notch, “you can defeat the gas. You could get outside the fences.” There was a gleam in his eye.
“Couldn’t someone just hold their breath to get through?” The trip through the gates didn’t seem that long. Mostly, I didn’t want Simon to know my ability to fight off the gas had an upper limit in terms of time.
“No, the gas is too powerful. Even if someone could make it past the electrified fences and the gas, they’d still have to contend with the outer perimeter fence and the guards. Plus they have guns. There are four guard stations around the perimeter, but there’s only one gate, where they bring in the newcomer truck.”
“Maybe they could jack the guards?” I asked, realizing the they we were talking about now was likely me.
“The guard gate is at least a half a mile away, far outside anyone’s range to jack. Except maybe you.” He smirked. “The guards could be readers or jackers or both. If you could jack at a thousand feet away, then maybe… if you could reach the guard gate from here, you could jack them to open the gates. Even if you can’t reach that far, you could fight off the gas in the truck, get close enough, and even if they were jackers, if they didn’t see you coming…”
“I could jack them before they knew what had happened.”
He seemed like he wanted to hug me, but kept his hands to himself, which was a good move on his part. His plan was entirely demens, and the idea that I could jack someone half a mile away was far-fetched at best. Maybe I wouldn’t have to jack that far. Maybe I could ride the truck right to the gate and catch them by surprise.
“Do you think it could work?” I asked.
“I think we need to find out what you can do.” His grin seemed to crack his dust-covered face.
It didn’t take long to discover I had more range than I ever imagined. Not only could I reach people at the other end of camp, but if I concentrated, I could jack them as well. But I couldn’t reach the outer perimeter. Somewhere between a thousand feet and a half mile was the limits of my abilities.
Simon pressed me on. “Focus on the jack. It’s like a muscle—the more you use it, the stronger you get.”
My eyes were closed, but I felt the intensity of his stare. “Yeah. Except when you’re distracting me.”
“Sorry,” he said, his voice hushed.
I reached out and brushed several minds at the far side of the camp. They didn’t sense me, so I could easily knock out the weaker ones before they knew what happened. Some were so weak they could barely push back. I practiced on a few of those first, making sure they were already sitting down. No need for concussions.
“How far out are you?” His voice was impatient.
“I’m in Block D.” I snapped my eyes open. “Is that far enough for you?” Block D was at the farthest corner of the camp from Block C. Whoever had laid out the Camp of the Flies had no respect for alphabetical order.
His laser focus didn’t waver. “Yes, but can you jack there?”
“I just knocked out two inmates.” A smug edge crawled into my voice and it made me queasy. “They weren’t very strong.”
“Some of the jackers here are practically linkers.”
“Linkers?”
“Jackers that aren’t very strong. They can link thoughts but not much else.”
“How did they end up here?”
“How did any of us end up here?” he asked with a snort. “Extreme bad luck. Anyway, did the linkers you jacked know you were there?”
“No.”
“A jacker can only resist you if he knows you’re there. If you catch them unaware and move fast, even the strongest jacker can be knocked out. But if you hesitate or if he’s expecting you… Well, that’s when you end up on the losing side of the jack.”
“I’ve got the Impenetrable Mind, remember?”
He gave a short laugh. “Right. Okay, so maybe it won’t be a problem for you.” He gave me an unexpected soft look that made me close my eyes again.
“Okay,” I said. “What next, Master Zagan?”
“Next, Little One, you need to jack the strongest one you can find.” I killed the smile that threatened to break out on my face. Simon was right—the more I practiced, the stronger I got. Although some jackers seemed naturally stronger than others, regardless of how old they were. I wondered if my dad was a unique like I was—did he have an Impenetrable Mind, too? Could he reach a thousand feet? If he had simply told me the truth, I wouldn’t have to rely on Simon to find out what my abilities were.
As I brushed across the minds in Block D, I could tell which jackers were the strongest by the feel of their brain barriers. It was the difference between Jell-O and cream cheese—the cheese would give, but I had to push harder. Even with all the jacking I had done, it still grossed me out.
I was growing stronger, but I was no match for the strongest ones—plus they more quickly sensed me and pushed me back out. The leader of Block D threw me out after a fraction of a second. His second-in-command was even stronger. I retreated and left them sparring with each other. At least they didn’t know who I was. I kept trying, jacking in and grappling with fairly strong jackers. Unless I caught them completely unprepared, I couldn’t knock them out. And all the strongest jackers in the Camp of the Flies were constantly on edge.
Open Minds Page 16
