Willpower

by Anna Durand

  "Grace?" David said, his voice tight with worry.

  Sniffling, wiping the tears from her eyes, she said, "It was JT. He got into my head and made me see things. Maybe the physical proximity gave him more power, or maybe he injected himself with even more of that drug cocktail." She lifted her head to meet his gaze. "However he did it, it was much worse than the other times."

  So many deaths, all my fault, I could have saved them all. But I didn't want to, I wanted them dead.

  No. Those thoughts originated from JT, the creep who wanted her sanity for a keepsake. He'd have to fight for it. He'd have to kill her for it.

  She looked down at her hands.

  Her nails. Crusted with blood. Red liquid dribbling from her fingertips.

  Do it, do it, DO IT!

  The voice screamed inside her head, the voice that was not her own. She fought back with everything she had. The presence ripped free of her, like claws tearing flesh. White-hot pain sliced through her body from head to toe. Her stomach heaved. She choked back the gorge. Coughing, clutching her abdomen, she bent forward.

  David grasped her face, one hand on each cheek, and tilted her head up to face him. He locked his gaze on hers, his forehead wrinkled, a frown gouging deep lines across his face. Her pulse beat like a bass drum in her head. Though his lips moved, she heard nothing but the drumbeat.

  Look at me, he mouthed. Or maybe he'd spoken the words. The drumbeat inside her drowned out everything else. With an effort that almost hurt, she forced her eyes to focus on his.

  A gentle warmth washed over her, into her, chasing away the chill left behind by JT's attack. The false images and alien thoughts faded away until they became wisps of memory. The drumbeat silenced as her heart rate normalized. Sweat trickled over her scalp, down her neck.

  "I'm okay now," she said.

  She felt David relax and watched the lines on his face smooth out as his frown melted into a more neutral expression. Brushing a lock of hair from her face, he asked, "Is he gone?"

  "Yeah. I pushed him out."

  A ghost of a smile flickered on his face. "I know how that feels."

  "I pushed him a little harder than I pushed you. He really did not want to go."

  "I hope he's in so much pain he's curled up in the fetal position under his desk."

  The dark thread of anger in his voice was unmistakable. She didn't like hearing it. If David gave in to his anger, JT would win. She could never let that happen.

  She slid a hand through his hair, kissed him softly, and whispered, "He can't hurt me again. I won't let him."

  He looked less than convinced in the half second before he brushed his lips over hers and stood up, lifting her to her feet with him. He clasped her hand. "Let's put as much distance between you and that bastard as we can."

  Then he led her down the tunnel.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Grace hurried down the corridor in Sean's wake, propelled onward by David's arm around her waist. Though she felt stronger with each step away from the facility, the aftereffects of JT's attack proved longer lasting than ever before. Evicting JT from her mind had drained her, for sure, yet the attack also left her with a curious side effect. Along with her physical strength, she felt something else building.

  Her powers.

  She might've thought she'd tapped into the Golden Power, unintentionally, except that she didn't feel omniscient. Far from it. She felt like a dinghy out on the open ocean, where land is out of sight. Still, she sensed an unknown source replenishing her psychic energy, boosting her powers. It made no sense. Then again, since when had anything about her extrasensory abilities made sense?

  Other questions seemed more pressing at the moment. While concentrating on the ground ahead of her, afraid she might trip if she glanced away, she asked David, "Why do things that happen in my mind feel so real? I really thought I'd killed you. I could see and feel the blood on my hands." She thought of the bloody gauze, the sole physical evidence of the cut that had once slashed across her palm. "I dreamed once that I cut my hand and, when I woke up, my hand was bleeding. Then later, the cut was gone. It's crazy."

  "Whatever happens to your metaphysical body," David said, "also happens to your physical body. It's because of your mind that your body functions. The two can never be fully separated. If your mind thinks your hand is injured, then your hand is injured. It's that simple."

  Ahead of them, Sean halted. The tunnel had dead-ended at a door identical to the one that granted access to the escape route. This door, however, had no keypad or card reader. Instead, a large metal lever opened the door.

  Sean tried to move the lever, with little success.

  David released Grace and strode up to the door to help Sean. Together, the pair heaved the lever up to unlock the door. The mechanism groaned. Sean and David panted with the effort, their faces contorted, their arm muscles flexing. When the lever finally clicked into its open position, the mechanism let out one final groan of metal on metal. The men adjusted their holds onto the lever and pulled on it. The door swung inward inch by inch, its bottom edge scraping across the dirt floor.

  They opened the door a couple feet and, sweat dripping from their faces, gave up the battle. The gap offered just enough space for one person to squeeze through, into whatever lay beyond.

  Darkness, she saw as she leaned sideways to peek out the doorway. A breeze wafted through the opening, carrying with it the indefinable yet distinct smell of the outdoors. The dry, chilly air tickled her skin.

  David motioned for Sean to step aside. When the boy did, David sidled out the door. He vanished into the darkness outside. The soft crunching of his footfalls provided the sole evidence of his presence.

  Seconds later, his footsteps drew nearer again. His silhouette filled the gap between the door and its frame. Light from inside the tunnel revealed his face.

  "It's clear," he said, "for now. Let's go."

  Sean exited next. Grace shuffled to the door, turned sideways, and slipped through the gap. The night air enveloped her in its chill. Tilting her head back, she saw the clear sky speckled with stars. To her left and right, she found earthen walls and, straight ahead, a steep grade inset with steps cut out of the ground itself. The steps led up to ground level.

  David took her hand, helping her up the steps. Sean waited for them at the top, his body visible as a silhouette against the starry sky. Far in the distance, a coyote howled.

  "Move," David said, his tone more gentle than his word choice.

  She let him pull her away from the steps, out across the depression that cradled the facility. A statement he'd made minutes ago bubbled to the surface of her mind, and she had to ask, "Are you sure nothing can separate the mind from the body?"

  "One thing can," he said. "Death."

  "So whatever happens to your mind happens to your body."

  "The mind is the body."

  "Whatever." She tripped over a rock. David caught her, and they resumed their brisk walking pace. Shaking her head, she told him, "It's like I went to bed one night and woke up in a parallel universe."

  "Same universe. But now your eyes have adjusted, letting you see the things that hide in shadows."

  The shadows of what, she almost asked, then decided maybe she didn't want that much clarity. Understanding, truth — she had demanded them, damn the cost. She'd sacrificed everything for a truth that didn't ease her mind and that nobody else in the world would believe. In spite of what she'd lost, she knew with stark certainty that she would, without hesitation or regret, do it all again. Her parents and grandfather had given their lives willingly to protect her, to protect the world from enemies bent on attaining a kind of power no living thing should possess. If necessary, she would make the same sacrifice, because she hadn't quite given up everything yet. She had one gift left to give.

  Her life.

  JT ha
d murdered her parents. He had faked her grandfather's death and now held him hostage. She must know why. She must understand.

  The cut on her palm had faded. Soon it would vanish, taking with it the memory of the dream. Would everything that had happened lately dissipate into the void of yesterday? Would she someday think of it all as a bad dream?

  No. Nothing could erase the memory.

  Grace twisted around to look back. There, maybe a quarter mile away, stood the facility. It looked different than the first time she'd spied it in the darkness. Then she realized why. The tunnel had led them out on the opposite side of the facility from where she'd entered.

  The plan. In the chaos following JT's attack, she'd forgotten about the plan to destroy the facility. Right now seemed like a good time to implement it.

  She wrenched her hand free of David's and stopped dead.

  He stopped too, and glanced back at her, though she couldn't see his face. She knew what expression he wore even without seeing it. Annoyed. Confused. Worried. She likely wore the same look.

  "No," David said.

  "Yes." She planted her hands on her hips. "I have to do it."

  "Fine. Then I'm going with you."

  He wanted to travel with her. The idea shot a spark of excitement through her. Had they traveled together before? What had it felt like, to share a psychic experience? She wanted to find out. Sharing such an experience with JT felt like the worst kind of torture. But sharing it with David …

  His hand found hers in the darkness. He twined his fingers with hers.

  Boom.

  The ground shook. As the echoes of the first explosion died away, a second detonation rocked the earth. The booming ricocheted off the walls of the depression.

  A third explosion went off at the nearest end of the facility. The ground shook so hard Grace lost her balance, stumbling into David's arms. They held each other up as the tremors subsided and the cacophony faded into a silence that felt unnatural.

  David's mouth brushed against her ear. "Did you … "

  "No. You?"

  "Definitely not."

  She stared into the darkness, which she would've sworn had gotten darker, but discerned nothing. A cloud of what she took for dust blocked out part of the sky. As the cloud thinned, flames emerged from where the facility's black shape had squatted.

  "Who did it?" she wondered aloud. Then the answer struck her. "JT. It must've been."

  "But why?" David asked.

  "Because he's a spoiled brat who didn't get his way."

  David tightened his hand around hers. Without a word, he turned and broke into a jog, hauling her with him. She had to run to keep up with him.

  A sensation rippled through her. Indescribable. Unpleasant.

  He's watching.

  She froze. David nearly yanked her shoulder out of its socket before realizing she'd stopped. Halting, he half turned to look back at her. His fingers still grasped hers, though barely.

  "We're not alone," she said.

  "Damn straight you aren't."

  The voice was not David's or Sean's. The words, and the tone of the voice, sent a shiver down her spine. Off to the left, a shape separated from the darkness. The shape drew closer, until it resolved into a human silhouette that stopped a dozen feet away. Although she couldn't make out any facial features, she knew who it was.

  JT sniggered. "Gotcha."

  David launched himself across the distance to JT, tackling the other man.

  Except he didn't. He couldn't. David sailed right through JT — not past him, but actually through him — landing with a thud and grunt.

  "Oh sorry," JT said, with mock chagrin. "Shoulda warned you. I'm not really here."

  Grace couldn't speak or move. She watched as David levered his body up off the ground, hopped to his feet, and turned to face the apparition of JT.

  For he was a ghost, essentially. Not the ghost of a dead man. The ghost of a living soul.

  "One more thing," JT said, his tone a little too smug. "I may not be here, but my peeps are."

  Her voice unfroze just enough to utter two words. "Your what?"

  "My peeps. My guys." He waved an arm in an expansive gesture. "They've got you surrounded."

  Lights flared on all around them. Grace flinched and squinted, throwing up an arm to shield her eyes. Her vision adjusted fast enough that she saw the beams emanated from lantern flashlights, of the multi-million-candlepower variety, and the lights were held by black-suited commandos. Six of them. The guards who'd stayed behind when the facility was evacuated.

  Shit.

  "Let's get down to business," JT said. "Where's my flash drive?"

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Grace stared at the illusion of JT, wishing it were nothing but a hallucination. She knew better. The mechanics of psychic phenomena still confused her, but she'd learned from firsthand experience that something unreal could exert very real forces and cause genuine damage.

  As she tilted one hip to adjust her stance, a hard lump pressed into her belly. Her gun. She'd tucked it inside her waistband during their flight through the tunnel. Even if she managed to pull it out unnoticed, she had little confidence that she could cause enough damage to matter, at least not before several large and heavily armed men tackled her.

  "Do you really think I'd bring the flash drive here?" she said. "I'm not that stupid."

  Although she might not have been the smartest person on the planet, she'd at least had the brains to mail the flash drive to herself, at her Texas address. It was safe, relatively speaking, for the time being.

  "Give me my flash drive," JT said, "or my guys will kill your guys. And they'll start with your boyfriend."

  "Maybe you shouldn't have blown up your only other copy of your research."

  "What makes you think it was my only other copy?"

  "Because if you had another copy, you wouldn't be pestering me about the flash drive."

  "Good point." The apparition of JT shrugged. "Might as well tell you. You won't live long enough to tell anyone else." He let out an annoyed sigh. "Edward didn't just make a copy of all the research, he also completely erased it from the facility's computers in the process. And he did such a good job we couldn't recover anything from the servers."

  Well at least one part of the nightmare finally made sense. JT and his minions had gone to deadly lengths to obtain the flash drive because it contained the only copy of the facility's research. She doubted one little flash drive could hold the entirety of the facility's research, but it must contain the crucial bits needed to bring down JT, his cohorts, and possibly his whole empire. She'd had the key to his destruction in her pocket all this time.

  Ideally, one of them needed to travel to wherever JT was hiding and stop this madness at the source. Unfortunately, that plan had two problems. First, David couldn't manifest without her help, and second, her strength had returned but not to the point where she felt capable of manifesting for any meaningful length of time. For those two reasons, she'd ruled out stopping the physical JT. She must stop the astral JT instead. Luckily, despite the drugs, he clearly lacked the ability to manifest.

  JT apparently had no powers, or extremely weak powers, without the drugs. That might mean they had a chance. She needed no drugs to access her powers, and yet using them drained her quicker than slashing her wrists. From her past experiences with JT, she suspected his drug-induced powers drained him even faster. On top of that, he was dying. She knew what she had to do. She just wasn't sure how to do it.

  Though David had gotten up off the ground after his spill, he lingered behind JT, twenty feet from Grace and Sean. She stared intently at David until he turned his eyes toward her.

  As if he could read her thoughts, David mouthed, "No."

  She didn't dare make any response. If JT decided she and David were conspiring aga
inst him, she couldn't predict the mad man's response.

  "Give me the flash drive," JT said. His voice had taken on a petulant tone. "I'll count to ten and if you haven't given it to me by then, your boyfriend dies."

  The commandos had spread out to form a circle around them. Because there were only six of them, that meant they stood widely spaced around the three prisoners and the apparition of JT. Two of the commandos held their weapons trained on David. One kept his eye on Sean, while a full three commandos had Grace in their sights.

  In a different situation, attracting the attention of three brawny men might boost her ego. Right now it made her entire body tense.

  She pulled her attention away from the three big weapons aimed at her and locked her gaze on the apparition of JT. He was, naturally, smirking at her.

  "I bet I can find you," she said.

  The smirk melted into a pinched expression.

  She pointed toward the heavens. "You know, through the crossroads."

  His eyes widened for an instant, but then the pinched look evaporated. "You wouldn't. Not with sweet David's life on the line."

  He made the word sweet sound like a hideous insult. To him, it probably was.

  She closed her eyes and let her mind float up, hovering a dozen feet above her body. As she looked down at her body, a feeling coursed through her, one she could only describe as a psychic shiver.

  JT glared at her physical self as he clenched his hands into fists. "Come back or he dies. You have five seconds. Four, three … "

  She hurled out a blast of energy that manifested as a hurricane-force wind. The gust spiraled out from her position, flipping the commandos off their feet one by one and flinging them backward through the air. By the time the spiraling gust hit David and Sean, they were flat on the ground, facedown in the sand. The commandos were slower to react — too slow. They sailed a good fifty feet and hit the ground hard enough to knock the sense out of them, if not render them unconscious. After circling their prey, the commandos had set down their lantern flashlights. Now, those lights sat on the ground unattended, forming a triangle around the three former prisoners and the mad man who wasn't there.