by EJ Valson
I moved out of her mind and into Jane’s, whose head was now filled with the fact that she hadn’t made enough time in her life to have children, start a family, or pamper her husband. She wasn’t filled with fear, only regrets. I thought that was a very interesting thing to be thinking, in light of our locale.
I inquisitively turned to the guard, whose head had been empty since our arrival, and probed his thoughts. The same as always – not a thing. I wondered if Gabriel had made Azura give him the ability to wipe their minds clean. Clean and ready for molding. Molding into horrible, heartless, emotionless killing machines.
I looked for the first time to the guard’s hands, which he brought from behind his back and hung rigidly at his sides. His knuckles were battered and scarred, and the skin on them looked six inches thick. I felt sorry for him that all he knew of life now was probably fighting and anger.
While thinking about all the ways the guard could possibly kill us with his bare hands, I scanned the room for more people to probe. Humming louder, I tested my third newfound ability to see how far it would reach. Apparently, it went across the entire room. One by one, as I hummed louder, each pair of eyes drifted up to meet mine. And each time, the people in hearing range were completely mesmerized by the tune.
Eventually, though, I found that I couldn’t hum any louder. I wanted desperately to reach the last row of guards, just to see if I could. So I started singing.
“Hush, little baby. Don’t say a word . . .”
Amazing. The last row of guards satisfied me with their glazed-over eyes and I felt a sense of accomplishment. What good did captivating an audience do with my glorious voice if they were dumbfounded in the process? Would they even remember what they were listening to? Probably not. I imagined myself going through life in a musical as soon as I got out of this place. I would dance around the house singing to Violet to clean her room or do her homework – and she would march to it straight away. She would have to listen, obviously. Everyone here was listening to me.
“Momma’s gonna buy you a mocking bird . . . ”
What if I asked them to do something? Would they do it? I envisioned the lot of the group getting up and dancing around like monkeys, or playing Simon Says. Picturing it made me laugh inside. I was feeling less nervous and apprehensive about the dire spot we were in all the time. Actually, I was enjoying myself. Killing time until . . .
“Thank you,” Sherry mouthed from across the room. She motioned to the children, who were quietly listening to me sing.
I nodded to her, and examined the rest of the room again. They were all still spellbound by the song. Thoughtless and practically drooling on themselves. Sherry, however, was watching the children.
I’m so glad they’re calm, she was thinking. I was so worried.
She was thinking.
Out of the blue, something sparked in me. I had an idea, but couldn’t wrap my mind around it yet. Maybe I could help get us out of here after all. But how, exactly?
“And if that diamond ring don’t shine . . . ”
Sherry’s ability to help others focus on something must be helping her choose not to focus on me. She is the only one that I reminded to focus, when I signed it to her. And it was only then that she regained the capacity to utilize her gift. When she focused.
Maybe . . . maybe she could help the rest of them focus, one at a time, while the guards were distracted. It wasn’t the diversion I was expecting, but maybe it would work. For now, it was the only thing I could think of to try.
Content that the children were peaceful for now, Sherry sat back and folded her legs in front of her comfortably. I stared at her, hoping she would look my way soon. When she did, I held my hand up to my stomach and signed H-E-L-P. She tilted her head to the side, completely confused. I held my hand up again and spelled H-E-L-P T-H-E-M F-O-C-U-S.
Thank God she could understand my crudely formed letters, because then I saw the wheels in her head start turning. Literally. I watched her mind closely as she thought frantically about what I could mean. She looked to the children, then back to me.
I nodded slowly.
“Momma’s gonna buy you a Valentine . . .”
“Children,” she whispered.
At once, all the children snapped their heads in Sherry’s direction. She’s got it, I thought. She’s regained her control of her asset.
“And if that Valentine’s not pretty . . .”
Sherry cleared her throat. A tiny, almost fearful cough, but nothing happened. I could hear her heart beating – or maybe that was my own. Boldly, with her eyes glued to the guard closest to her, she pulled herself up to a crouch. We both watched him as she shifted her weight back and forth, preparing to crawl. While our eyes were glued to the guard, his eyes were glued to me. Still.
She motioned to the children to do as she did, and one by one they understood. I listened carefully to their thoughts, and it was amazing how not one child was distracted as Sherry instructed them. A minute later, they were all crouched and ready for their next instruction.
“Momma’s gonna buy you an itty-bitty kitty . . .”
I paused for only a second – I don’t know why I thought the words would matter, they were captivated by a children’s lullaby for crying out loud. No effect at all. No blinking. Nothing.
Minutes passed as I sang, watching Sherry weave between the guards, trying not to touch them. Each time she would get near one of the teachers, she would slip her hand gently onto their shoulder, careful not to startle them. Then she would whisper in their ear and slowly, one by one, they were all crouching and ready to go.
Once everyone was prepared, Sherry looked at me for instruction. I honestly had no idea what to do next, besides keep singing. I shrugged my shoulders and looked around. Everyone was waiting for me to tell them what to do. I had no idea, though. This was not my area of expertise. Should we all make a break for it? Or file out one at a time? Organizing an exit like this would not be my . . .
Elizabeth.
She was stooped down, like everyone else, waiting. But when I glimpsed what she was thinking, I saw the answer. For once she wasn’t glaring at me. She was just waiting to be guided. Her thoughts were quite clear….while she waited to be told what to do, she was forming her own ingenious plan where everyone filed out neatly and orderly.
I gave her a desperately hopeful look. Hopeful that she would understand that I needed her. We all needed her.
Searching her mind for the moment when she would understand that this was her time, I tried to convey in my eyes that I wanted her to take over. To organize us well enough to get out of here. I knew she could do it – but did she know it?
It took her a while to catch on, but she eventually pointed her index finger to her chest and drew her brows together. When I nodded once, she immediately set in motion. Everything I had seen in her head slowly played out.
She began pointing to one group of people at a time, starting with Sherry, Janice, and the children. When she had their attention, she nudged her head toward the door and placed her finger to her lips to indicate that they should keep quiet. None of us knew how long this trance on the guards would hold.
Janice, followed by the children, filed slowly through the teachers and guards and headed for the door on their hands and knees. Sherry brought up the rear of the group and when she got close to where I was sitting I squeezed Manny’s hand and gestured that he should join them. Besides me, he was the only one who knew where Azura would be waiting. Obediently, he followed Sherry through the crowd and into the hallway. Without hesitation, Elizabeth selected the next group to exit and, seamlessly, the room began growing sparse.
I intermittently checked the guards thoughts, keeping alert for any changes, and was amazed at how focused everyone else was. Nothing was distracting them from the task at hand and I was sure Sherry was responsible for that.
It wasn’t until there were only a handful of us left that the panic began to set in. Until now, I had been able to k
eep fear at bay. But when I realized what was sure to happen next, I started to lose my nerve.
What would happen, for instance, when I stopped singing? The terror I should have felt the moment I realized we could escape suddenly sank in as I caught a glimpse of Charlotte’s face at the door. She was the last person left, besides myself, in the room. Her face was pleading and unsure, and covered in tears.
What was I supposed to do? If I stopped singing, every watchman would turn and run down the hallway after them. If I kept up the unexplainable trance I might be able to back slowly past them and out the door, but the lot of us would be captured for sure before we reached Azura.
I wasn’t going to make it out of here alive. That’s the reality. I recalled what Manny had said earlier; It will not end well for everyone. Me – I’m the person it will not end well for. But most of them would be fine. They would all return to their families. They would all be safe. And this was the only way it would happen. The thought – no, the realization – that I wouldn’t be going home started running through my mind as a likelihood. Then as I locked Charlotte’s gaze with my own, it was a statement.
I puffed up my chest and straightened my back, my heart beating right through my skin, and I kept singing . . . with more resolve this time.
“You go,” I was telling her, through eyes that seemed to suddenly be filled with tears.
Her eyes were pleading, and just as tearful, but they were begging for two different things. Begging for a way to save me – and begging for me to save them. I nodded. She pursed her lips and shook her head. I closed my eyes, my heart was beating so hard I was waiting for it to jump out and plop onto the floor. Tears actually shot out of the corners of my lids as they closed. I’m going to die, was my only thought. And they will all live.
I pulled my burning lids up and my voice faltered . . . she was gone.
I continued to sing for at least an hour, simply knowing that when I stopped – they would finish me. I wasn’t simply prolonging my own life, though I was secretly hoping there was some other way to do this, I was also imagining how long it would take them to get to Azura. I was taking their steps in my mind, making sure they had plenty of time to reach her.
I decided to start over. “Hush little baby . . .”
After what seemed like hours of a siren song that was becoming more strained with every word, I figured they were safely gathered together now. Hiding. Safe. I was imagining their tears for me, and wondered what they would tell John.
With great resolution, I took a deep breath and decided that it was time. The guards would have no way of finding them now, they were too far away in far too clever a place. I sang something about a ray of sunshine and began to trail off. Then I waited.
One blink. Two blinks.
One man turned his stiff neck to look to either side. Several others did the same. Then came more deliberate blinking as I watched them figure out what had happened. Then I saw the guard nearest me, the one who had been reprimanding Manny and I for talking, begin to put all the pieces together. In one instant, his expression turned from bewildered to steely, and a cold tremor shot straight down my spine.
Then they were upon me.
I had closed my eyes when the first guard was one arm’s-length away from me. I had drawn a short, labored breath, and waited. I heard no shouting, no weapons rattling, not even my own breathing. I could only hear my heartbeat, strong and loud in my ears. Ten beats. Twenty beats. Twenty strong beats.
I hadn’t expected this moment to last so long. Like a movie, I guessed, this moment before death was grabbing time and forcing it to pause. I hoped it was over soon. But then I heard it. Crack.
I opened my eyes and saw the floor. And boots. I was doubled over and was being hit, and kicked, so hard that it had broken my arm. Crack. And my knee. Crack. And then one blow to the head sent me wheeling into a clean black sensation that I knew was death.
I hit the floor.
Somewhere in the mountains of Colorado, buried deep underground, far from the eyes of the world, was a small gathering of women. All of them hugging each other. All of them crying soft, unintelligible sobs.
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” whispered Claire. “I just know it.”
SEVENTEEN
“She’s coming ‘round,” someone muttered. I heard a quick shuffling of feet and soon felt the heat of several bodies close to mine.
“Shh, give her some room,” Claire reproached. A soft hand brushed my forehead. “Erin? Honey, can you hear me?”
“Mmm-hmmm,” I croaked.
“Get Azura,” she ordered. “Where is she?”
“She’s checking on Charlotte,” someone answered.
“What’s wrong with Charlotte?” I asked, but I couldn’t tell if anyone heard me. My throat burned and my ears were ringing.
“Oh Erin,” Claire whispered, “she’ll be okay. I’m so glad you’re—” She trailed off, sobbing. I crawled into her mind, hoping to see what had happened to Charlotte. If anything had happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I should have kidnapped her while I had the chance and hidden until Azura left without us. I wanted so badly for her to be safe. As I searched Claire’s memories, I was horrified, and it didn’t take long to figure out what I was seeing.
Charlotte’s gift was compassion. She could put herself completely in someone else’s shoes and understand how they felt. That’s what Azura had enhanced in her. She could also take on another’s feelings; sparing them pain, or embarrassment, or heartache. I understood that much from Claire’s thoughts.
I found the very recent memory of Claire standing in a horde of women, gathered around a single woman who was lying on the floor. Everyone was howling, crying in horror of the woman on the floor, who was screaming. I concentrated harder on the face of the woman in Claire’s memory. Gradually, the woman’s face became more clear. It was Charlotte. A sharp pang hit my heart as I watched her writhing in pain. Something was obviously very wrong with her, but what? No one was standing around her. There were no wounds on her body, nothing that should be causing her that much pain. Eventually, she stopped moving. Very abruptly, her eyes shot open for a brief moment, then her body went limp.
Confused, I started to ask Claire what had happened, and if Charlotte was alright. But just as I was about to speak, something else entered my mind. Something just as baffling to me as the mystery of Charlotte’s screaming. Something else I couldn’t understand.
“Why am I here?” I finally mumbled, to anyone who could hear me. How was I alive?
“I came back for you,” a familiar voice replied.
My neck ached so badly I could barely turn to see who had spoken.
“Don’t move, it might be broken,” Azura commanded. And though my eyes were nearly swollen shut, I could see her stepping through the group to speak to me. “I’ve been working on your wounds. But it’s going to take a while, you took quite a beating.”
“Azura,” I choked when she got close enough for me to focus on. The first thing I saw was that her hair was down, and it didn’t look a thing like I had pictured it. I’d never seen her without her absurdly tight bun, and she was breathtaking.
“Your glasses,” I managed, awestruck.
“Gone.” She took my hand. “They were just for looks anyway.”
“Looks,” I laughed. “They made you look like Wonder Woman.”
Her massive green eyes were bright and absolutely gorgeous. Her small face was framed in wildly curly hair that fell to her shoulders. Her fair cheeks were tinted pink, probably from all the booty she kicked to secure this hiding place, and they brightened her whole face.
