by Cat Gilbert
I dropped my glasses and slumped to the ground in relief as my muscles relaxed from their cramped state.
I heard the disgusted grunt from the bushes next to me and I didn’t even bother to respond. I was too busy kicking myself. Why hadn’t this occurred to me before? If the bad guys, whoever they might be, were collecting people with abilities, it only made sense that they had recruited some of them into their own ranks. There was no hard and fast rule that said people with special psychic abilities had to use their talents for good instead of evil. How could I be so naive? So stupid to not even think that was a possibility? Thank heavens, we knew now, before things had gone any further. The game had just changed and if the opposition didn’t have the upper hand before, they sure did now.
I was so absorbed in kicking myself, I nearly jumped out of my skin when Mac tapped my shoulder and motioned for us to pull back.
“We’re about to have company,” Mac whispered as we stowed the binoculars back in the packs. “Those two guys Hughes was talking to just took off in a jeep.”
“You think they know we’re up here?” I checked my watch. We had agreed to meet Bryan back at a clearing a little further down the mountain and we were running ahead of time.
“No. I think he got spooked, and sent them to check it out. They aren’t in a hurry, but we need to move.” He checked his stride when he saw my hesitation. “Don’t worry. He saw what we saw. He’s on the move too. I promise.”
We kept low as we wound down the backside of the mountain. We were about halfway to the clearing when Bryan slid in through the woods from our left, startling Mac.
“Good way to get shot,” Mac hissed at him. “Where’d you learn to move like that?”
“Obviously, you’ve never hunted razorbacks,” Bryan whispered back, obviously amused. “We need to cut south to head down. Those two will likely come up the same path we did.”
I heard Mac’s grunted response, as he motioned Bryan to take the lead and I cringed at the thought of the descent we had in front of us. I would have never referred to the six inch wide animal trail we had followed up in the dark of night as a ‘path’. I could barely imagine how difficult going down without even that small benefit would be.
As we scrambled down over rocks and wound our way through the trees, my respect for Bryan ratcheted up a notch or two. It was one thing hunting the enemy through the forests and swamps. Quite another hunting a wild boar with huge tusks that could smell you coming a mile away and rip you to pieces with a toss of its head. I even knew some hunters that were putting flak jackets on their dogs to try to protect them during the hunt. Bryan moved us down the mountain at a rapid pace, as quiet and sure footed as a mountain goat.
We were almost down to the road when he motioned us to stop. I froze in my tracks, eyes searching the forest ahead for any indication of what Bryan had seen or heard. I got nothing. Obviously I had never hunted pig.
“Feel anything?” Mac’s voice was barely a whisper on the breeze as he moved in next to me. I didn’t, but I wasn’t sure we should be relying on my so called “feelings”. I was out of my element and personally, I was way more confident in Bryan’ talents. I watched his head slowly turn as he tracked whatever it was he was hearing, waiting for it to move away. Finally, his shoulders relaxed and he motioned us forward again.
Ten minutes later we were at the car. Mac had backed the car off the road, into the cover of the trees when we’d arrived, not wanting the local police to come across it. Apparently it had been hidden well enough, because I could see the clear outline of the black jeep under the moonlight, sitting on the shoulder across the road, a mere 50 yards away. Mac threw the packs into the trunk and I folded into the back seat of the Mustang, shivering both from the cold and near miss of getting caught.
It was going on 11:00 p.m. by the time we got back to the cabin. Mac and Bryan had exchanged looks, but kept quiet on the way back, picking up on my mood.
“What happened?” Candice asked, eyeing me as I threw my pack into a corner of the room.
“Hughes knew she was there.” Bryan answered for me, causing Candice to gasp, her eyes as wide as I’d ever seen them. “He looked right at her.”
“Well, to be totally accurate, we don’t know that he knew it was her,” Mac corrected him, “but he did suspect something was up and he sent some people to check. You can be sure, he’ll send them back up in the morning to see if they can find anything during the light of day.”
He’d looked at me as he’d added the last part, making sure I got the message. Hughes would find something to indicate there’d been someone there. Whether it was crushed grass or a broken branch, he’d know someone had been lying in the bushes on the mountaintop watching the agency.
“Hold on a minute. How did he know you were there?” Candice asked as she turned to help Mama D, who had appeared almost magically with a coffee pot in one hand and five mugs in the other. I met Mac’s eyes and motioned for him to take it.
“Hughes may have just gotten spooked. Or he could be an Empath.” At her blank look, he went on. “Someone who can pick up on emotion from other people.”
“That was one heck of a pick up then,” Bryan cut in. “We were looking at him through binoculars, for Pete’s sake, and he felt her? What kind of range does this thing have?”
Good question. I grabbed a mug of coffee and took a seat at the table, eager to hear Mac’s answer myself.
“It depends on the ability. If Hughes actually felt something at that distance, he’s got a lot of it.”
Well, I’d heard better news. My gaze drifted over to the cabin window and I couldn’t help but wonder if Hughes was out there now, driving around, reaching out with his mind, to try to pick me up again. I quickly tamped down the tingle of fear that thought had ignited, determined not to give him anything to hone in on.
I looked back to see Mac watching me, relief showing in his face, when I got it under control. Candice was watching him too, suspicion written on her face and I knew the jig was up. Better to come clean now before she worked up a head of steam.
“Mac can sense my emotions too,” I told her, snapping her attention back to me. “He’s an Empath like Hughes.”
They all turned to look at Mac like he’d grown a second head. He just nodded at them in agreement.
“Well, that explains a lot. He’s better at reading you than I am. How long have you known about this?” she asked, looking me straight in the eye.
“He told me about it in Little Rock,” I admitted. “I’m not sure I really believed it or maybe I just didn’t want to admit that it was possible, but there’s no denying it now. Hughes may have it. Mac does have it and apparently, I do too. At least to some extent.”
Mama D got up to bring out some sandwiches and put another pot of coffee on, while I told them about what had happened on the road the previous night. It was as hard for me to tell as it was for them to hear. We were a team and I’d kept information from them. By the time I was finished, you could have heard a pin drop.
“So Mac and Hughes can sense Sam and Sam senses,” Candice paused searching for the right words, “someone who she thinks is most likely this Brown fellow. Do you pick anything up on the rest of us?”
The question seemed innocent enough, but I knew it wasn’t. What she really wanted to know is if Mac and I had been spying on them. I’d felt what they were feeling now. Just the idea of having your deepest emotions exposed to someone else was horrifying. Knowing it for a fact was even worse. It had been hard enough to accept the invasion of my privacy and I trusted Mac. The thought of having Hughes inside my head was a violation of the worst kind.
“No. It’s not like that,” Mac jumped in to explain, throwing me a worried glance. “It’s more like what you sense, Bryan, when you know someone is lying to you, or when you know you’ve got the jury on your side.” He nodded to Candice. “An Empath is just better at it. They can sense the emotion.”
He looked over at me and I gestured for him to
finish it. They might as well know the whole thing.
“At least that’s the way it usually works. With Sam and me, it’s different.”
“Why doesn’t that come as a surprise?” Bryan snorted. “How exactly is it different?”
“I don’t just sense her emotions. I actually feel them. Experience them. Even help her deal with them when they’re too intense.”
“So you felt Brown last night too? You felt what she felt?” Mama D asked, trying to understand.
“No. Last night, I felt her confusion, her anger, when she picked up on Brown. But what she was getting from him? That was her own personal hell. There was nothing I could do to help her except sit there and watch.”
Candice just sat there looking at me as the impact of what he’d just told her sank in.
“You’re sure it was Brown?” Bryan asked me.
“I’m not sure of anything at this point, Bryan. It’s just a feeling I had. I can’t explain it anymore than I can explain the rest of it.” I pressed my fingers into my forehead, stretching the muscles up in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure I felt gathering behind my eyes.
“So, then. That’s it? No more hidden abilities you haven’t mentioned?” Candice blew the hair out of her eyes, fatigue written on her face, as I was sure it was on mine.
“Yep.” I assured her, summoning up a smile and pushing up from the table. “That’s it.”
It was well after midnight and we were all tired. I know I was. I was in the process of carrying the dirty mugs back into the kitchen when I noticed Mac was still sitting at the table, staring at the floor with a resigned look on his face. Candice noticed I had stopped and followed my frowning gaze to Mac.
“Actually,” he said, when he finally noticed us all staring at him, “there is one more thing.”
I took a deep breath and gestured for him to go on, knowing from the look on his face that it was something I didn’t really want to hear.
“Back in Little Rock, when Mama D and I were in the vault at the Bank?” I nodded, frozen in place, the mugs dangling from my fingers. “I heard you talking to me. Every word. Plain as day.”
I looked at him with unbelieving eyes, knowing my mouth was hanging open and being able to do nothing about it. He’d never said anything about it. I remember saying the words, telling him to stay inside the vault. He had done exactly what I wanted, but I thought he was just picking up on my emotions, or it had been just plain dumb luck. Now he was telling me it was neither of those things.
He closed his eyes, unable to meet mine. “I didn’t say anything sooner because I knew you had about all you could handle on your plate already. I know you don’t agree with that now,” he put out a hand to stop me when I started to refute his statement, “but I can feel you. I know when you’re close to breaking.”
I turned around and went into the kitchen, slapping the mugs into the sink. I clenched my now empty hands, which were starting to shake, my mind reeling with what he’d just told me. Was what he was saying even possible? I could feel my breath coming in gasps, my blood pounding in my ears and I was helpless to stop it.
“Sam, sit down.” I felt a chair being shoved under me as Candice ordered me into it. I could hear Mama D telling me to take deep breaths. pressing a damp towel on my forehead.
“Mac, get over here!” Bryan ordered, but Mac was already there, his hands gripping my shoulders, the panic that had threatened to overwhelm me, dying back down to a manageable level.
“Sam? Are you okay?” Candice was kneeling down next me.
“No,” I answered in disgust, raking in air, feeling better by the second. “But I will be.”
Leaning back I whipped the towel from my head and glared at Mac, who had obviously picked up on my displeasure as he was currently backing away. Before I had the chance to speak, though, Candice was all over him.
“You know when she’s at her breaking point?” She drew back and socked him hard in the arm, driving him back further. “What were you thinking, dropping it on her like this?”
Mac straightened and looked at me, remorse written across his face. “I’m sorry. I thought you suspected, but I wasn’t sure. I had to tell you and it had to be now. Sam, listen to me. I can’t read your mind, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I can hear you talk to me if you focus hard enough on it.” He was looking at me with such intensity that I put a cork on my anger and focused on what he was trying to tell me.
He was warning me again, but about what? I was way too tired to play this game. My mind searched for some sense in what he was saying and finally landed on the truth. Hughes could sense my emotions. Maybe not feel them like Mac, but he felt something. If Mac could hear me talking to him when I focused on him, it was just possible that Hughes could too. Now that was a sobering thought. He could be out there right now, driving around, listening for me.
Mama D and Candice had packed up pretty much everything before we’d gotten back from our trip up the mountain. Now we threw the last of it into a box, grabbed the packs and loaded up. The plan had been to leave first thing in the morning, but considering the revelations of the evening, we all would sleep better, if we ever actually got to bed, with some distance between us and Hughes. At the very least, I knew I would.
We’d pulled out of the motel onto an empty road, but by the second intersection, we’d met up with traffic. Within minutes, we slid into the flow, just one more vehicle in a line of cars heading down the canyon to the cities below. I watched the RV as it disappeared around a curve, several car lengths ahead and sank into the bucket seat, feeling safer and less exposed with each passing mile. Tomorrow we would re-group and figure out what to do next. It was with the knowledge that for now, we’d done all we could, that I closed my eyes and let the escape of sleep take me.
THIRTY
I WOKE WITH a start, unsure of where I was, the sunlight casting a ruby glow through the room. The memory of last night flooded back and I flopped back into the pillows as I was reminded of the problems we now faced. How had I been so naive? How had I been so foolish as to think I was ready to go up against them? Glancing at the clock, I rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. The fact that it was nearly noon and no one had come to wake me told me volumes. I half expected to walk out of the room to find the others had chosen the wiser road and hightailed it out of town. I spent more time in the shower than was necessary, letting the hot water pound the aches from a body that was too out of shape to spend the night running up and down a mountain, much less lying in a bunch of bushes for an hour in the cold.
I discovered evidence of our fast descent down the mountain in my hair, in the shape of bits of leaves and twigs, and found myself laughing at the thought of what it must have looked like. Thank goodness I hadn’t looked in the mirror, but the others had gotten a front seat view. I had, I was certain, looked like exactly what I was. A deranged lunatic, trying desperately to hang on to some shred of sanity.
My laughter dissolved quickly though, as I stood in the stream of cascading water, and faced the facts. It looked like Hughes could sense me and if he was able to pick up on my emotions too, it cut the odds greatly of being able to turn the tables on him. One wrong move, or worse, one unguarded emotion and he’d be on the alert. I had nearly made the mistake of going into a gun battle, assuming I was the only one with a gun. It shouldn’t have surprised me to discover that not only was the other side armed. They were better shots.
I cut the water and ran my hands over my head, squeezing the water from what was left of my hair, disgusted with myself. I needed to keep my distance from Hughes, that much was certain. I wasn’t sure what all he could do, but if he had actually sensed me last night, he might have picked up on my emotion too. Anger, plain and simple. The minute he’d hopped out of the Hummer, I’d felt it flare up. Whether he knew it was me or had just picked up on the emotion flowing around him, he knew something was up and if he had half a brain, he’d be on the alert. I could practically guarantee he wasn’t goi
ng to leave the safety of the facility now. More likely he’d stay put and wait to see what happened next.
A knock on the bathroom door snapped me out of my reverie and I jerked a towel off the rack just as the door opened.
“You coming out of there anytime soon, or are you planning on drowning yourself?”
Candice’s head appeared around the curtain and she squinted at me through one eye.
“At least your hair looks better. Hurry up - food’s here.” She snapped the curtain back and the door slammed shut before I’d even said a word. Apparently they hadn’t decided to take off after all. I dried off and pulled back the curtain to find the bathroom swirling with steam, the mirror completely obscured. I wiped off a small circle of moisture only to watch it steam back up within seconds and knew I was facing a losing battle.
Frustrated, I grabbed up the hair dryer and proceeded to dry my hair without the benefit of being able to see what I was doing. Abandoning the brush, I felt my way with my fingers, trying to remember what went where in my new cut. I was halfway through when it hit me. There was another way to try to find Brown. One that didn’t involve Hughes. It probably wouldn’t work, but at least we had something else to try. My mood considerably lighter, I gave up on the dryer, deciding to let it air dry. However it ended up looking, it had to be better than what it looked like last night. I pulled on the clean jeans and sweater I’d brought in with me, finding them somewhat damp from the steam. I ran my hands through my hair one more time, feeling more confident by the minute, and pulled open the door, finally ready to face the world.
I came out of the bathroom to find everyone stuffed into my room, two steaming pizzas on the table, such as it was. They’d been talking amongst themselves until I came out and then everyone clammed up. Suddenly famished, I wound past them and picked up a couple slices of pizza, throwing them on a plate and made myself comfortable on the bed, suspecting they’d been talking about me and deciding to just ignore them.
