Sightlines

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Sightlines Page 20

by Santion Hassell


  “Seems like perfect timing to me. I want to enjoy this one fucking hour while we have it.” He hesitated a moment longer before rolling to the side and spooning Elijah. “No sex. Just sleep.”

  Elijah sighed, content, and practically melted in Chase’s arms. “I want this every night, Chase. I hope it can happen.”

  Chase kissed the back of his neck before whispering, “Me too.”

  “This isn’t gonna work.”

  Lia glared at Chase, lips pursed. “You didn’t let me finish speaking. Why don’t you tone down the entitled angry white boy shtick for a second and let me go ahead?”

  Trent coughed, not quite covering a laugh.

  Chase had trouble not laughing himself. She was right, and he was a dick. He had a bad feeling about all of this, but she was right. “Fine, go ahead.”

  She stared at him like she was the one with explosive psychic powers, shook her head, and then glanced at Jessica. The Ex-Comm leader nodded and flashed a small smile, as if reassuring Lia that she was doing a great job. It was so mushy that Chase wanted to vomit. Not that he had any room to talk with all the snuggling he and Elijah had done during the night. It was the next morning now, and it was time to act before someone else made the first move.

  “Any-fucking-way.” Lia crossed her arms over the faded leather jacket she wore. “Ex-Comm was primarily interested in going scorched earth at the Farm, but we’re not going that route. Even as an outsider looking in who never had any attachment to the Community, a plan that’s all black-and-white is a bad one. I propose we forget about Richard and Jasper, and focus on getting people out.”

  Chase mashed his lips together. His first reaction was to once again protest, but . . .

  “There’s too few of us to even consider an all-out fight,” she continued. “Besides that, can any of us actually fight besides Six? Not just a fist fight, like a real fight where you have to be calm and collected?” Lia stared them all down, hard, as if daring Trent or Chase to go full bravado and start blustering. When they didn’t disagree, she gave them an impressed eyebrow raise. “So, best bet? Go in like we did before.”

  “Right, about that . . .”

  “Chase.” Lia pointed at him. “Shut the fuck up and let me finish.”

  He raised his hands. “Fine.”

  She looked up at the ceiling, exhaling slowly, as if trying to gain patience from a higher power. “Last time was sloppy, but it only got sloppy because we hadn’t counted on Richard being there, and Six went to distract him to give us time to get out. This time, we can plan for the worst, and get in and out. Either without engaging or . . . engaging while they’re just as helpless as we are and then going scorched earth if necessary.”

  Elijah raised his hand, waving it around. When she nodded at him, he eased off the sofa. “How will they be helpless? They have a ton of fire power compared to us.”

  “They won’t be able to see,” Six butted in. “I’ll go ahead and knock out the power circuit and the backup generator. A nor’easter is supposed to hit tonight. Snow, sleet, and rain. If it’s bad enough they’ll think it was a surge. It wasn’t uncommon to happen. They never had a real electrician come to the property, so everything is done half-assed.”

  “Okay . . .” Elijah rocked on the balls of his feet, scanning everyone in the room. He wasn’t too big on choosing his words with care either, so it was obviously a struggle to not come right out with whatever he wanted to say. “If the plan is to infiltrate and get a bunch of people out, who may or may not be drugged, in the pitch-black, during a rain storm, I have to admit I’m with Chase in terms of thinking we’re probably going to die.”

  Chase jerked a thumb at him, but kept quiet. Lia, who clearly preferred Elijah, did not tell him to shut up.

  “I can get night vision goggles.”

  Trent looked up. “Good ones?”

  “Military grade.” Lia shrugged. “I know a guy who sells them out of his car in Williamsburg sometimes. He does weird artsy shit with military equipment.”

  “Okay . . .” Chase drawled. “So how are we getting these people out? Like Elijah said—they’re drugged.”

  Jessica paced closer to them, her arms wrapped around herself. “I’ve been in contact with Shelby. She’s been dialing back the dose on everyone salvageable.”

  “‘Salvageable,’” Chase repeated. “What does that mean?”

  Jessica looked at him squarely. “It means not everyone will want to be saved, and there’s no reason to have them fully aware so they can join the effort to resist you if you’re caught.”

  Chase started to argue, but then remembered Richard saying that some people had volunteered for the breeding program. The very idea made him shudder.

  “We’ll break into three groups.” Lia held up a notepad, where one of them had sketched a crude rendition of the property. “One led by Chase, one led by Holden, and then Nate. Of all of us, you guys have the biggest chance of influencing someone with either your empathy or telepathy, when you run into another psy. We just have to hope you guys are stronger.”

  “That won’t be a prob for Chase,” Elijah said.

  Six stared at him. “Fucking him makes you certain?”

  Trent didn’t bother hiding his snicker this time. Elijah flipped Six off, and Lia went on, ignoring everyone.

  “Trent and Nate will get Lorelei from the guesthouse, Holden and Six will tackle the cottage, and Chase and Elijah will go for the silo.”

  A sigh of release escaped Elijah, but iron shot down Chase’s spine. He stood up from his slouch against the wall. “Why would you plan for him to go into the place where Jasper is?”

  “A few reasons,” Nate said, speaking up for the first time. He eased from his own curled-up position in an armchair across the room. “For one, you and Elijah know the silo best. Even Six said he didn’t spend a lot of time in there to know how they’ve amped up security. And two . . .” A little cringe creased Nate’s face. “Well, Six had a point. Your power only reacts to Elijah being in danger. And if he’s in danger, that means you’re in trouble. You need him.”

  “For something other than fucking,” Six clarified, because he was helpful.

  Holden shot his lover an exasperated look. “Sixtus, I suggest trying to work hard on reading cues right now. You’re not helping.” When Six just shrugged, Holden took the same route as Nate—appealing in a low voice as if that would matter. “It’s not like we’re using him as bait—”

  “Yes, you fucking are,” Chase said gruffly. “You totally are.”

  “For your own protection,” Elijah snapped. “Stop trying to daddy me, Chase. Besides, if this all goes wrong, do you really think I’d leave without you, anyway? You in danger will always mean me in danger. It just so happens that I’m the safety on your telekinesis.”

  Chase halfway expected Six to make some other sex joke, but thankfully the cyborg kept his yap shut. And with the way Elijah was looking at Chase, he needed to shut his own. At the end of the day, trying to shield Elijah had never worked. All it’d done was make it known to everyone that he was special to Chase, a tool that could be used against him. It had gotten Elijah into more trouble.

  And he did not doubt for a second that Elijah would ever leave the Farm without him. They were a pair in safety and in mortal superhero-mission-type danger.

  Chase didn’t pull away when Elijah snagged his hand. “Tell me the rest of the plan.”

  When it was all said and done, they waited until the nor’easter struck at nightfall and went in under the cover of darkness. Six literally used that verbiage. The cover of fucking darkness. Chase could barely believe he was associated with these people. He could also barely believe their plan because it was out-of-this-world risky, ridiculous, and kind of stupid. But they were doing it.

  Given the secluded location of the Farm, it was easy to sneak in and out once the electricity was disabled. Since Six had had free run of the place for well over a decade, he knew exactly how to make that happen. Including
taking out the backup generators. And because Lia was a fucking badass, she really did make a pit stop in Brooklyn to buy night vision goggles from an artist loft. Chase had been hoping for some fire power along with it, but Holden had only had enough cash squirreled away for the goggles. And Jessica was against guns.

  How the fuck a pacifist was the unofficial former leader of a militant group of psychics was beyond Chase. But, as it turned out, she’d been more of their inspiration than their leader. They’d liked her as a figurehead, a legend, not so much a living breathing woman with an opinion. Which figured.

  They packed into two vehicles to drive up to the Farm, and left them with Lia and Jessica half a mile down the road. Jessica was still shaky and admitted upfront that she’d be more of a hindrance than a help on foot in the rain, but promised she could still drive like a bat out of hell if someone came along.

  She and Holden embraced, and Six gave her a curt chin jerk before they split. Because cyborg and whatnot.

  Six and Holden went ahead to disable the generators. Either by awesome timing, or because one of them also had hidden powers of weather manipulation, a giant-ass clap of thunder struck a few seconds before the power blinked out. There was silence, indicating this likely was as normal as Six had made it sound and as Chase vaguely remembered, but shouts did start to go up once the backup generators didn’t activate.

  Since they’d split up in the forested area around the perimeter, it would take them different lengths of time to reach their destinations, but the plan was for all of them to get in at once. Nate and Trent had taken off running south to the part of the forest closest to the guesthouse, but Chase and Elijah took longer getting to their targeted spot behind the silo. It was amazing how invincible Chase felt with the flood lights taken out and the goggles strapped around his head. Darkness was a cloak, but Elijah’s presence at his side did not let him forget how much he had to lose. After so long of pretending nothing mattered but his next drink or the inkwork on one of his tattoos, it was overwhelming to realize when it came to Elijah he was as ruled by emotion as everyone else.

  Despite his own sense of calm, the guards seemed to be in a panic. They called to each other across the yard, jogging this way and that in the pouring rain, and seemed frantic to restore the power. For the most part, Chase and Elijah easily evaded the bouncing flashlights, their movements masked by the rushing of rain. They made it to the exterior of the silo before encountering one of the many staff members.

  “Who’s there?” the voice called out, deep and etched with aggravation. “Mr. Payne said for everyone to stay in their places. I don’t know why everyone is running around like chickens with their heads cut off. One of you assholes already broke my damn flashlight by slamming into me.”

  The man squinted through the darkness, probably trying to make out who was in his face so he knew who to yell at, but could likely make out nothing more than the vague outline of goggle-covered faces. With the storm stalled above them, there was no light even from the moon.

  Chase concentrated on breaking into the guy’s brain, on clearing his suspicions and trying to plant different thoughts there instead—about being underpaid and overworked and being treated like a mindless drone instead of the one guy keeping this place running. About how everyone was ungrateful, and he was tired of being the one following rules by the book. But it didn’t work. Chase couldn’t tell what brand of psychic the guard was, but he had a strong mental shield.

  Reason number eight thousand and fifty why being a psychic was sometimes not all it was cracked up to be.

  “Did you hear me?” the guard repeated when they stalled and Chase failed to infiltrate his mind. “What do you think you’re doing? And where did you get night vision goggles?”

  “I heard you,” Chase replied, voice steady. “But we have orders to remove one of Jasper’s patients.”

  “Bull. Shit.” The guard leaned in closer. “Tell me what—”

  Chase grabbed the large metallic flashlight from where it leaned against the wall, reared back, and hit the guy in the face. He dropped to the ground, and Elijah gasped.

  “Jesus, Chase.”

  Chase knelt down and put his hands under the guy’s arms. “Help me get him out of the way. We can hide him in the trees back there.”

  They dragged the guy several yards away to set him behind a group of trees. It was sloppy as fuck, but Chase was hoping he’d be unconscious long enough for them to get into the silo.

  They doubled back, being less careful in their desire to make up for lost time, and slipped into the building before anyone else showed up. Chase moved ahead and held up a hand, halting Elijah from moving any farther before he got a read on the situation.

  If he concentrated just right, he could vaguely hear the thoughts of everyone on the property. But if he narrowed the scope of his gift, he only heard the thoughts of the people within the silo. Surprisingly, there were few. Either there were fewer people being held in Jasper’s torture tower, or they were so drugged that there was nothing for Chase to hear.

  The thought was a fist closing around his heart. He moved faster, extending his gift with a single-minded focus until he barely saw what was ahead of him because he was so focused on the whisper of voices inside his head.

  Just want to sleep. Why won’t they let me sleep? I already said I was sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to her. Never fucking talking to anyone again. God, I just want to go back to my job. I just want to go to sleep.

  Fucked up. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him. Realignment my ass.

  Rook is better off without me.

  Chase stopped abruptly, and the world closed in around him again. Instead of sprinting ahead and trusting his telepathy to guide him instead of his eyes, he looked around wildly as if he’d see the speaker of that last thought.

  Rook. His sister was here somewhere. Fucking hell.

  “Chase,” Elijah hissed. “What the fuck?”

  “I—” He swallowed, not understanding the tightness in his chest or why he was suddenly panicking. This is why they were here. To get these people out. He could get her out. “Nothing.” Chase took a deep breath. “Not many people here,” he said, his voice barely a whisper in the silent hum of the silo. In the distance, he could hear someone talking, but it sounded like gibberish. “There are two people on the second floor who are desperate to get out—they’re both being punished for something. And there’s another on the top floor. Sounds like a young girl.” He looked back at Elijah. “The best thing to do is to split up. I’ll go to the top, you get the other two. They’re both lucid.”

  “I don’t want to split up,” Elijah hissed.

  “Yeah, but they’ll be on the same floor you were held on, so just do it.”

  Elijah didn’t argue, but he hesitated before moving ahead.

  Nate’s voice popped into Chase’s head. I have Mom.

  Relief hit Chase square in the chest.

  Is she able to get around?

  Slowly, but we’re having to creep around anyway. We need to get out of here fast. Not everyone is compliant, so we sent the kids into the woods with one of the staff members who works with Shelby. Her people are telling them there’s another raid.

  Any sign of Richard? Chase thought at his brother.

  None.

  Maybe he wasn’t on the property. Chase didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. Either way, he jerked his head toward the floor spreading out ahead of them in the gloom of the storm and distant lightning.

  “Let’s move.”

  Elijah sighed, and they split up. Chase ran to the top floor and jerked up his mental shield. He knew the silo well enough to navigate it without telepathy. The narrow rooms with the metallic cone-shaped roof, and nothing to keep inmates company for long spans of time except the ping of rain against it during a storm. The sound was so familiar that Chase missed a step, confused about whether he was trapped in one of his memories or existing in the present.

  The moment of uncertai
nty faded once the girl’s voice drifted into his mind once again.

  Nothing but a complication. . . . function in public, do anything. At least here I’m useful. Hate being in the way.

  Chase didn’t know if it was his current mental strain causing everyone’s thoughts to come across fragmented, but he could barely string together a full sentence. Either way, they’d done a number on Rook’s sister, and he was going to get her out.

  He followed the mental footsteps of the girl, trying to move silently but unable to do anything about the sloppy way his feet squished along the tile. He knew without the need for extrasensory knowledge that he was going to be caught. He just hadn’t expected it to happen as soon as he opened her cell.

  Jasper stood to the side, turned away and peering through the narrow window, and the girl was huddled on her cot, knees drawn up and face turned toward Jasper. It was only when Chase set both feet inside did her body snap toward him.

  “Who—”

  The aborted question was a gunshot in the silent room, signaling both Chase and Jasper to spin into action. He felt Jasper reach out with his gift, a mental attack that almost immediately caused Chase’s knees to buckle, but he surged forward anyway. His telekinesis remained dormant even as the sensation of Jasper pulling at his brain with vampire claws sent daggers of pain exploding from his temples. Chase gritted his teeth, and slammed his body into the other man’s. They could do this the old-fashioned way.

  He jammed Jasper against the wall with all his strength, and felt the invisible fingers slip. A pained grunt emanated from Jasper, followed by a louder clatter as they both fell to the side and knocked over a metal tray that had stood nearby. The girl screamed, and the sound drove Chase to fight harder.

  Jasper might have had the one up on him in terms of control over his psychic abilities, but Chase had had his fair share of fist fights. It came with the territory when you had a big mouth and an unflinching side eye in a city like New York.

 

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