Coben oblivious to his pain continued his rant. “Well, they ran and guess what? They’re still running. Now I have, not only the parents flipping out that we lost their kids, but Tanya is breathing down my neck asking why the hell these two are not in our custody. Do you want to tell me why, instead of a nice quiet acquisition we have two extremely volatile, and unpredictable, pyro kinetic teenagers on the run?”
“You okay?” Finn had finally sat down, and now leaned over to whisper in his ear.
A sudden image of his dead brother flashed in Cross’s head. Kale giving him that stupid half smile like he used too. It was a flash. There and gone again but the pain it brought with it, stayed. Cross grunted in answer to Finn and hoped Coben would get to the point soon.
“This isn’t Cross’s fault,” Victor Harris, the third member of the acquisition team said. “We all thought they would come in without a problem.”
“The parents were on board with all of this,” Finn said. “They were relieved when I told them we would take the kids in.”
“Then what the hell happened? Cross is your profiler and far be for me to state the obvious but he’s also your psychic profiler.” Coben was working it now. He was pissed and Cross was his primary target. “You told me these kids weren’t a problem. You told me this would be a routine acquisition. Exactly which part of this would you consider routine? Someone explain this to me.”
The voices around him grated on him like grit in an eye. He knew Coben asked him a question but damn if he could remember what he had said. Another image slammed into his brain. This time it stayed longer. He saw two boys. Kale and him as kids.
Did you ever wonder why they keep us like this? What did we do that was so bad? He heard himself ask his brother in his head.
“What?”
The images evaporated. He realized it was Coben asking him the question. But in his mind Coben was the one he was trying to explain things too.
“Why do we do this?” Cross asked. “Why do we hunt these kids, these people? What did they do that was so terrible they deserve to be locked away, studied as if they’re specimens. Freaks.”
Cross put a hand to his head as the pain cranked up. He was a ten-year-old whispering in the dark to his brother. He was fourteen, the sole survivor of an accident that had claimed his twin’s life. He squeezed his eyes tight, but the pain was all hot and furious trying to bite its way out of his head.
He thought maybe he stood. “It’s not fair the way you keep us.” He grunted and a hand clutched his arm. He leaned into someone. Niko pushed under his hand and he gripped her harness. “We’re people, just like you, only a little different.” He wasn’t sure if he was speaking the words or if they were simply in his head. He didn’t think it mattered. His knees buckled, something wet and warm leaked from his nose. “I can’t live like this anymore Kale, I can’t.” His hands went to his face.
There was only the pain.
Taking bites out of his mind.
More images flashed in agonizing slideshow. Kale. It was just Kale, now as everything else faded.
Out! I need to get out!
Kale grinned at him from inside his head. And then, even the pain stopped, and Cross had a brief moment to wonder- is this death?
Chapter 4
FINN HAD ASKED him once if the blind dreamed. Of course, Cross replied. But the dreams varied. He’d lost his sight at fourteen. Cross only remember bits and pieces of that day. It almost like looking at someone else’s life.
A friend of theirs from school was showing off his dad’s short-barreled revolver. “It’s not loaded,” Joey had he said as he aimed at Kale. “I checked, the barrel’s empty. Bang bang, you’re dead.” Joey sneered like he was a gunslinger and pulled the trigger. The barrel was empty, but Joey forgot to check the chamber.
The bullet struck Kale below the breast bone, killing him. It had missed his spine and had gone straight through him, hitting Cross sitting just behind him. They told him he was lucky. The bullet had spared his life taking only his sight.
Cross disagreed. Losing both his brother and his sight in one day didn’t feel especially lucky.
He didn’t dream often. Maybe he just didn’t remember them. But when he did dream, they were either auditory, from his life after he lost his sight, or they were from before the accident. He liked those dreams best because in them he could see like he used to. But he hadn’t dreamt of Kale in a long time.
In his dreams his brother was always forever fourteen. Tousled brown hair, dark eyes and a cocky half grin that Cross never could imitate.
This dream started off no differently. Kale sauntered through the door of the hospital room where Cross lay on the bed. That’s when he understood he had ended up in the medical unit of the Department.
“Man, when you crash and burn you do it in style,” Kale sat on the end of the bed and cocked that grin.
“I never was known for my subtlety.” Cross studied his brother. “I’ve missed you.”
“Sorry. I’ve been keeping an eye on you, so to speak, but it’s been a little tricky trying to talk to you.”
“It’s a dream Kale, my subconscious. You have no control over that. I don’t even have any control over that.”
“Well, see that’s why I’m here now. This isn’t actually a dream. It was easier, safer for you to believe that before. Things have changed.”
Cross narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t a dream?”
Kale shook his head. “Remember when we were little, we would talk to each other up here?” Kale tapped his head.
“Telepathically?” Cross remembered. The psychic abilities he used for the department had been shared by his twin. But he still didn’t understand. “You’re dead, Kale. I can’t telepathically communicate with the dead.”
“And this is where it starts getting weird. See, I’m not dead, man.”
Cross stared for a second or two. “What?”
“Yeah, look, I know I’m asking a lot of you right now, but I’m short on time. I need you to remember two things, okay?”
“I don’t understand.” And what an understatement that was.
“Just listen. All we ever had was each other, I know you remember that much. That hasn’t changed. That will never change. First, don’t trust what anyone tells you but me, not Finn, not Coben. Especially not Coben.”
“How do you know about Finn and Coben?”
“Just be quiet and listen. The second thing is what I’ve already told you—I’m not dead, man. Things are going to start happening fast.”
“What things? Never mind. Don’t answer that. I must have seriously hit my head because this is whacked.”
“Can you trust me? Can you just do that for me? Please?”
Cross considered his brother sitting next to him and decided what could it hurt? “Trust you? What the hell, sure why not. So, let me get this straight; you’re not dead, this isn’t a dream and trust only you. Is that it?”
“I’m not playing with you, just remember it. This is going to get ugly man. I wish I could help you more, but I can’t. Not yet. She promised me she wouldn’t bring you in, she promised me you would stay safe. She lied, so now it’s my turn.”
“What are you talking about?” A small pain started at the base of his skull and Cross remembered the pain when he was in Coben’s office.
“This isn’t what was supposed to happen.”
“Kale?”
“Just watch your back. If you need me, just think about me, I’ll know up here.” Kale touched the side of his head then gave Cross a long hard look he didn’t understand. He hopped off the bed and seemed to just walk away. Then everything when dark again as the dream, or whatever it was, faded.
Cross opened his eyes and blinked to be sure he was really awake. The familiar play of shadows greeted him as did Niko. She pawed at him and he realized that she was lying next to him on the bed. Cross roughed the fur at her neck. “At least I know I can trust you, can’t I girl?”
“
Hey, you’re awake.”
Finn’s feet hit the floor with a quiet thud. Cross smelled the harsh chemical clean he associated with hospitals and underneath that, Irish Spring, the soap Finn favored. It seemed his partner had been sitting vigil over him. Well at least part of his dream was right. He was in a hospital. But he needed Finn’s confirmation anyway.
“Where am I? What happened?” The last thing Cross remembered was being in Coben’s office and then the nightmare quality slideshow he still didn’t understand.
“Medical. You had, I don’t know what you had, but it scared the crap out of me.”
“I can’t remember,” Cross said. In light of Kale’s warning be it real or not, he decided to keep what he did remember to himself for now.
“I don’t doubt it. You were babbling nonsense then dropped with your hands over your face. You were screaming man, like someone was killing you, then you stopped and went limp. That scared me more than the screaming. You were bleeding too, from your nose and ears.”
“Wow that sounds dramatic.”
“I thought you were dead. Seriously, don’t do that to me again.”
“How long have I been here?” It didn’t feel long, but that meant nothing. When he woke up after he lost his sight, he thought a day maybe two had passed. Then he found out he had been in a coma for over a month. That blew him away, all that lost time. He wondered what happened to time when it got lost.
“Just a day. They’re still running tests and shit but I’m just happy to see you awake.”
Niko laid her head on his belly and Cross contented himself by stroking her silky ears. He had no idea what strings Finn pulled to let him keep Niko here, but he owed his partner one. Niko was the one constant in his life. She was with him 24/7, for the last three years. It was a bond no one else would understand. She wasn’t just a dog, she was his life, his eyes. His friend.
Something about the visions he had in Coben’s office stirred to life. “Finn?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
Cross rubbed his eyes and the pressure building there. “Have you ever asked yourself if what we do is right?” A memory or maybe a feeling of being trapped like a rat in a box settled over him. He didn’t like it.
“What we do?” Finn sounded concerned.
“We take people against their will and we put them in cages,” Cross couldn’t understood why he never questioned that before. It seemed so horrible and clearly wrong to him now.
“Dangerous people, Cross. People who have aberrant abilities, who’ve demonstrated they are a threat to the rest of us. We keep this city safe from those aberrancies.”
“Danny and Sybil King weren’t aberrancies. They’re just kids. They never hurt anyone. They’re just confused as to what was happening to them. All they need is someone to explain it to them. They don’t need to be locked away from the world.”
“The people we lock up are monsters. You know that, at least you used to know that.” Finn sounded like he was speaking to a confused child.
The headache that never went away crept from the back of his skull and wrapped itself around Cross’s head. “I think maybe you got that backwards. We fear them because they’re different. We fear what we don’t understand, so we lock them away and make them perform for us. Maybe we’re the ones who should be locked up. Maybe we’re the monsters, Finn.
“Cross, partner, you’re scaring me a little here. Maybe I should get the doc.”
“I don’t think I want to do this anymore.” Cross winced as the pain dug itself in deeper. “I don’t think I ever did.” Cross grunted and grabbed his head. Even through the pain he sensed another presence in the room. He recognized Coben’s aura but there was someone with him. It had to be the pain, but Cross couldn’t get a clear read on the man.
“Cross, we need to talk,” Coben said.
Cross was sure he beyond talking.
“And in about five minutes he will in no condition to listen if I don’t intercede now.”
The man seemed as if he should be familiar to him, but Cross was sure he didn’t know him. If everyone would just stop talking he could figure it all out.
“And I need answers, Gabriel. This can wait,” Coben said.
“Not if you still want him in one piece it can’t. I need to remove the blocks now. They’re crumbling and he’s receiving conflicting information. It will destroy his mind if we wait, and then what good will he be to you?”
Cross put up a hand, it was all he could manage. He wanted them to stop, wait, something, he wasn’t sure and he never got a chance to ask as white hot pain stabbed at his brain, his eyes. He struggled to focus on something other than the pain but it was nearly impossible. Flashes of light exploded inside his head. He was coming apart.
Warm hands touch either side of his head. He wanted to object to the unwanted contact for about a half a second, but then sweet relief flooded his system. The pain backed down.
Relax.
He understood the man Coben had called Gabriel was speaking inside his head. Everything went quiet. All the noise he hadn’t even been aware of disappeared. The sharp-edged, hungry pain dulled, and with Gabriel’s soft cotton-whispered words Cross didn’t understand, it faded until it was only a memory. The words soothed the hurt, they calmed the panic. Much like a mother hushing a babe to sleep, like balm on a wound, Gabriel entered the mental cacophony that was Cross’s mind and left only serenity in his wake.
He opened his eyes. The normal shadows that were all that was left of his sight, greeted him. No pain. His head rested back on the pillow as he took a moment to catch his breath.
“Cross?”
He sighed in contentment. “Yeah.”
“Are you ready to listen now?” Gabriel said.
“What did you do to me? I’m not objecting, but… I,” Cross couldn’t find the words. “What did you do?”
“You were experiencing something called a psychic intrusion. As you are aware, it can be quite excruciating. If not taken care of, it would have destroyed your mind. Torn it apart, actually. Not a pleasant way to die.”
“I’ll agree with you on that. I have no idea what a psychic intrusion is, but I think I should know you. I do, don’t I?” There was a familiarity about the man, but he couldn’t remember anyone named Gabriel. Now that the pain was gone Cross could detect his psychic aura. His energy signature was familiar but Cross couldn’t understand why it should be.
“In another life, yes, you knew me. What I just did was remove several layers of psychic blocks that had been placed in your mind a little over ten years ago.”
“Psychic blocks?”
“Walls, if you will. Fortresses built around your memories. They were beginning to weaken. Your past was leaking into your constructed present like a dripping faucet. Small events from your hidden past were starting to bleed into the reality we created for you. The intense headaches, the confusion, the memories that made no sense, were caused by the incongruities trying to make sense in your mind. They couldn’t. If I hadn’t torn down the blocks, your mind would have been ripped itself apart.”
“Keep talking.” Cross was calm. It was as if he had waited on this moment for a long time.
“You and your brother were born here. This Department was the only home either of you ever knew until you were fourteen. Your mother was brought in much like you bring in your acquisitions. Her name was Maria, do you remember her?”
Cross squeezed his eyes closed in an attempt to recall a face to go with the name. He got fleeting images of a dark haired beauty who he ran to for comfort. He had always been told his parents died in a car accident when he was very young. The people who raised him were foster parents. “Only bits and pieces.” Cross opened his eyes again. “Nothing concrete. I was told she died.”
“She died when you and Kale were thirteen.”
A sudden image slammed into Cross’s brain. He angled his face toward where Gabriel sat beside him. “She killed herself. Didn’t she?”
“Yes.
Your mother was a delicate thing, both in body and in spirit. She couldn’t handle it when we took you and your brother away from her. You were more than old enough to be studied on your own. She disagreed.”
“Studied?” his stomach rolled as that trapped rat feeling came over him again.
“This Department exists because of people like you and your family,” Coben interrupted. “You’re dangerous, unpredictable. People, normal people were getting hurt. People were getting killed so this Department was created to control people like you.”
“People like me,” Cross repeated.
“The freaks,” Coben said with utter disdain.
“Some of us chose to help the department,” Gabriel said. “We thought if we could understand what it was that made us different, we could help the others learn to control their gifts. If they weren’t a threat then we could help them return and live productive lives in society again.”
“You were the exception,” Coben took up the thread of the story again. “The only reason for your existence was to be studied.”
“Coben, please.” Gabriel said. “It would be better if he learned everything from one source. His mind has already suffered a huge insult, let me take it slow with him. This is a delicate situation.”
Coben clearly didn’t like being told what to do but he reluctantly let Gabriel have his way. “Delicate my ass, but yeah, whatever. Do it your way, just do it quick.”
Cross heard Gabriel sigh then he leaned on the bed rail and continued. “Your mother, Maria, had a unique talent. She could push people. She could tell someone to do something and make it seem like it was his idea all along. It wasn’t the power of suggestion. From what we could figure out, she could actually rearrange a person’s brain waves. We’ve never seen anything like it before. She objected when we wanted to see how far she could take it.”
“You wanted her to hurt people.” Cross didn’t know if it was a memory, but he knew it was the truth. He could read that much from Gabriel.
“Yes,” Gabriel said. “Technically we wanted her to tell people to hurt themselves or someone else. The military applications alone were staggering to think about. Then we wondered what would happen if her talents were mixed with psychic abilities.”
Paranormal After Dark Page 86