by H. I. Defaz
“About reading each other's feelings?” I smiled. “I wouldn't change it for the world.”
She grinned and cupped the side of my face. Her eyes closed as if concentrating on what she was able to feel now. “Wow,” she exclaimed softly. “Is this real?”
“What do you feel?” I asked.
She opened her eyes. “I feel… you.” She smiled and blushed. “Do you really love me this much?”
“Of course.” My voice was merely a whisper, yet it held all the power of the truth.
“Then say it,” she said, just as quietly.
I took her face in my hands and lowered my head to her eye level, searching for her soul in that perfect, clear ocean inside her eyes, and said, “I really do love you this much, Yvette Hermione Montgomery.”
“Oh my God! I'd hoped you'd forgotten that awful name by now.” Her voice was light, but her face relaxed as her lips curved into the most pleasant smile I've ever seen, as if some terrible pain had just been soothed by my words. It was then that I realized those three simple words had become our very own salvation—three words that when played in unison become the most beautiful and powerful sound of all. Like a piano key: a high-octave note buried deep inside our hearts, a key that when finally played could ignite the most intense and profound feeling known to humanity. A feeling that can make any and all logic and reason disappear; a feeling that once felt can dictate the course of the rest of your life.
I had just played this key inside Yvette's heart.
When her eyes opened again, they opened as if to a brand new world. No traces of fear or sadness haunted her face now. She was happy, and so was I. This inexplicable connection that our touch had created between us had allowed our minds to read our feelings like open books. Yet understanding that I now knew how much she felt for me didn't stop Yvette from striking that high note inside my heart as well. She cupped the back of my head and, pulling my face close to hers, said, “I love you too, Victor.”
At that moment, nothing else mattered—nothing. The entire world's population could have circled around us, and we still would have felt as if we were the only ones in it. Our lips could no longer resist the urge to reach out for each other, so we closed our eyes and let our love take over. Soon we found ourselves lost in a kiss that ignited that powerful spark in my head again, allowing my hypersenses to expand so that I felt everything in extremes: the beating of her heart, the warmth of her body, the susurrus of her breathing, the taste of her lips...it was driving me absolutely mad. But this time, my mind was not only sensing and reading, it was also being sensed and read by Yvette's, creating a connection beyond our comprehension. The ecstasy we felt through this connection was such that neither of us wanted to let go from the kiss. The need for oxygen, however, soon made us break apart, if only to catch our breath.
What we witnessed then made us realize my mind had gone a little farther than just connecting with Yvette's mind and senses.
Stones from the shore of the pond were hovering around us, like planets orbiting a powerful binary star. It was like watching the abstract power of our love, laid bare by this otherwise intangible event. Alas, the connection with them broke as we realized that, and they pattered to the ground. Yvette laughed in astonishment. “Wow!” she panted, still trying to catch her breath. Her awe-filled eyes locked with mine. “Did you do that?”
“I guess I did,” I admitted. “I'm still trying to control this...this thing I have, you know? But it sometimes gets out of hand.” I stopped as my voice began to sound cagy and studied Yvette for a moment, wondering about the connection that had allowed her to sense my feelings. Was it just a projection of my new mental abilities, or had Yvette's mind also been altered by the procedure? The mere thought of it frightened me.
“What is it?” she asked, as she noticed my scrutiny.
“Nothing,” I said feebly, then: “No. I won't lie. It's just that… My brain was changed by Walker's procedure, Yvee. Yours could have been altered too. Maybe not in the same way as mine or Damian's—I mean, according to Sarah, this is the rarest of side effects—but it could still carry some consequences. That's why I need you to tell me if you feel anything strange at all, anything that you feel is out of the ordinary.”
“Well,” she began with a smile, “there's one thing… Look!” she said, placing her hands firmly over mine, her eyes fixed on them. At first I couldn't see what she was trying to show me, but then she finally said it: “My tremors are gone!” she exclaimed, tears in her eyes. I smiled, realizing what a big deal this was. I'd felt the same way when I realized my headaches were gone.
Of course, I would never have agreed to let Walker cure them had I known the price I was about to pay, but...
“This is great!” I celebrated with her.
“What about your headaches?” she asked excited.
“They're gone, too.” My response was short; I didn't want to get into details for the fear of ruining our happy moment.
“You know what this means?” Her question was rhetorical. “We have another chance…” she paused, as if waiting for me to finish the sentence. Her eyes were enough for me to go back in time and remember our conversation under the weeping willow.
“To live?” I asked softly.
“To live,” she confirmed with a smile.
Two worries invaded my mind at that moment. One was the possibility of the change wrought by the dark energy, a transformation that would only lead to my demise. The other was the thought of having found the love of my life, only to lose her again.
I pushed the worries into the back of my mind and locked them away, hoping I'd never see them again.
But neither our celebration nor our happy moment lasted long. A brand new chapter in our ordeal was about to start, and there was nothing we could do to stop it. I was still holding Yvette when a distressed call yanked us back to reality. “Mr. Victor?” Denali yelled.
“What's wrong?” I shouted over my shoulder.
“I dunno! You better come and take a look!”
My eyes followed him as he ran back into the cabin, scared and confused. I tried to keep calm; somehow, I knew I had to. I could sense that something terrible was about to happen. I asked Yvette to come with me; she held my hand with both hands and walked with me along the path. I couldn't help but notice someone staring at us from the window, following us with her eyes as we walked back to the cabin. It was Sarah; her eyes seemed glossy and sad, yet fixed on us.
I needed no clairvoyance to realize that she had been watching us all along. I had to admit that her surveillance made me feel uneasy... And after learning how Yvette felt about Sarah, I knew that Yvette wouldn't like it either. So I kept my eyes away from the window, thinking that if I didn't look in that direction, maybe Yvette wouldn't look either. But once again, I underestimated the female power of perception. When I turned back to Yvette, I noticed she was already glaring into the window. It was then that I realized that Yvette had probably noticed Sarah presence even before I did.
It seemed odd that none of my newly acquired powers were a match for feminine intuition.
Yvette wrapped her arm around my waist, sending a distinctive and intentional signal of possession. Her eyes wouldn't turn away from that window—they almost seemed defiant. I took hold of her, mirroring her gesture, and picked up the pace, trying to end this awkward moment. Sarah took one last look at us and turned away from the window, thank God. I couldn't help wondering what was going through her head at that moment.
When Yvette and I walked into the cabin, we found everyone on their feet, standing around the big couch where Roger had laid down to rest. “What's going on?” I asked, cutting between them. The fact that nobody answered me straightaway should have tipped me to the severity of the situation. Sarah, who was now kneeling next to the couch, held a belt folded into a wad and was trying to slide it between Roger's teeth as a protection. He was having a seizure-like episode and was grinding his teeth. She was able to successfully slide the belt
into place right before he began to shake with uncontrollable spasms. I didn't have to be an expert to realize that this wasn't a normal seizure. Roger's body was rejecting whatever had been deployed inside his brain; the question was, would he live through it?
His back suddenly arched, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. The whole experience was terrifying and painful to watch. One final spasm shuddered through his body as we all just stood there, watching, powerless to help him. Once the convulsions stopped, Sarah asked Damian to help her roll the nearly three-hundred-pound man onto his side while she fixed a pillow under his head. “Roger?” Sarah called, trying to get a response from him. But he was out. “He's not responding,” she said.
“Oh my God!” Laura exclaimed. “Is he going to die?”
“No!” Sarah said quickly, but then she shook her head and turned back to me. “...I don't know. His vitals are normal. But for some reason he's fallen into a comatose state. It's the first time I've seen something like this. We have no choice but to wait it out.”
A strange mixture of pain and anger filled me as I watched Roger lie there, completely helpless. I felt pain because no one should have to go through such suffering, and anger because I knew the responsible ones hadn't paid yet and maybe never would. The feelings overwhelmed me, and I began to feel my eyes burning with my anger.
“Victor!” Sarah chided me, realizing my feelings were getting too intense for me to control. “Maybe you need to step outside for a moment.”
I exhaled sharply, understanding Sarah's concern, and turned and headed for the door. “Victor?” Yvette tried to intercept me at the door, her brows knitted in confusion.
“I'm fine,” I lied unconvincingly. “I just need some fresh air.” I forced a smile and opened the door.
“Okay,” she breathed. “If you say so.”
I faked another smile and walked away.
I wasn't trying to lie to Yvette by keeping her in the dark about my condition. I honestly thought I had it under control—and that somehow I could find a way to reverse the change. I suppose my logic was blinded by hope. Whatever the case, I didn't want her to know that the man she loved was turning into a monster. Not until I was absolutely sure there was no turning back.
I walked back to the pond, wringing my hands, trying to keep them from shaking. For a second, I felt that dreadful contest within my mind, where my anger tried to overpower my will and become my reason. I closed my eyes and, once again, I began to work to calm my mind. But to my frightened surprise, abating my anger was becoming increasingly difficult—and I was beginning to feel my evil extreme battering at my defenses. After a few minutes of mental battle, I was able to regain complete control over my thoughts and feelings. However, the struggle had left me weak and irritable—the perfect state for the dark energy to strike again.
A twig snapped behind me. “I asked you to stay in the cabin, Yvette,” I said wearily, rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hands.
“It's not Yvette.” Sarah's counter made me turn; her voice seemed changed, somehow, unlike the friendly tone I used to hear from her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah… just, uh… just a little shaken up, that's all.” I forced a smile.
“Really?” She sounded upset. “You're going to lie to me, too?”
“I'm not lying to anybody, Sarah.”
“Victor, Yvette just asked me what the hell happened with you in that room,” she scolded. “She's completely oblivious about your condition.”
“What did you tell her?” I asked frantically.
“I didn't know what to say!” Her response put me at ease; I sighed. “Victor, you need to tell her.”
“There's nothing to tell.” I turned my eyes to the pond; I couldn't lie to her face. “I can control it, and if I can control it, I can reverse it.” I tried to sound as convincing as I could, but I'm sure my body language was giving me away. I've never been a good liar.
“Can you?”
I turned to look at her; her eyes, like her words, were filled with disbelief. I had to look away again. “Look, Victor,” she began. “I know you think you're protecting her. But you can't protect anybody by keeping the truth from them. That only complicates things even more. And in the end, you're only going to hurt her.”
“I'll—”
“Look, you're not alone. I'm going to help you exhaust every single possibility in an effort to stop the change, and even reverse it if we can. But you need to be open to the idea that we may not succeed. And if that's the case, don't you think that she'd love you more if you'd let her be there for you and help you try? I know I would—I mean…” she trailed off. “She deserves to know, Victor.”
I turned back to her, shaken by her acumen. She was making too much sense for me to ignore. “You're right. She deserves to know.”
Sarah sighed, relieved that she had gotten through me. She gave me a quick smile and turned back to the cabin.
“Sarah?” I called, realizing that something she said had intrigued me. She turned. The wind blew her ginger curls out of her face; her eyes opened wide, waiting for my words. “Are you really willing to exhaust every single possibility for me?”
“Of course.” She seemed surprised that I'd asked.
“Why?”
“Saving your life is becoming a bad habit, I guess.” She let out a soft chuckle. “Besides, we're friends, right?” She turned to walk back to the cabin.
“Sarah?” I called again.
She stopped and turned to me once again, lifting her eyebrows. “Yes?”
“Thank you.”
I had never meant those words as much as I did at that moment. And though she gave me no reply, I know she felt the sentiment in my voice. She just smiled her dimpled smile and walked away.
Chapter Eleven
Mayhem
I STAYED BEHIND, facing the pond, wondering how to break the news to Yvette without freaking her out. After a few minutes of brain-wracking, I realized there was no way she wouldn't freak out, so I decided to just steel myself and tell her.
By then, gray clouds had begun to streak the sky, blown in by the sporadic breeze that had been chasing us all morning. I closed my eyes and let the first drop of rain hit my face, amused by the fact that I could feel it before it actually reached my skin.
I ran back inside as soon as I felt the deluge coming down above me, and hit the door just as the rain began to pour. I was determined to talk to Yvette immediately. I cleaned my shoes on the ancient welcome mat that lay at the front door and walked in, but Sarah intercepted me before I could find Yvette. “I think you need to talk to Damian,” she said, frightened. “He's really freaking me out.”
“Okay,” I answered, confused. A quick glance into the living room made me realize what Sarah was talking about. Damian was loading weapons with Denali. They were standing next to a gun cabinet I'd failed to notice when we first arrived. It seemed that Denali was either a gun collector, or one of those people who prepares for Armageddon. Whatever the case, he was packed. “What the hell's going on?” I asked.
“I've wasted enough time here,” Damian responded aggressively, never taking his eyes from the double-barrel shotgun he was loading. “I have to get to my wife.”
“Whoa! Whoa! Wait a second!” I exclaimed. “You can't just go to your cabin waving guns around.”
“Why the hell not?” He tucked a pistol in the back pocket of the camouflage army pants he was wearing.
“Well, for starters, the place is probably already guarded. We talked about this! These people have orders to shoot us on sight.”
“Not us, Victor.” Damian stared at me as he said these words. He turned to Denali and gave him the kind of look a boss would give to a servant. Head down, Denali walked away. Damian leaned over next to me and whispered, his voice ominous, “I know why they killed that kid back at the Lab. They thought it was you.” He moved back, his face stony. He no longer whispered. “Dr. Walker wants you dead, Victor. Not us. Back in the Lab, we were just ba
it in order to attract you.”
“And what makes you think that?” I tried to sound as indifferent as possible. I was getting the vibe that Damian didn't like me very much, and to be honest, I was beginning to feel the same way about him. It was nothing personal; on the contrary, it was something I couldn't control. If there's an innate nature in cats and dogs that makes them hate each other, then Damian and I were definitely developing something of the sort.
“I can sense it, Victor.” He gave me a portentous smile. “The same way you can.” His face reflected nothing but arrogance, as if he were trying to show off what he was capable of now. This wasn't the same man I'd spoken to on the highway.
“Then you should be able to sense the danger I sense about this.” My words came out as fast as I thought them. “If you go in in an offensive mode, you'll lose. You and your wife will be killed.”
The cocky grin suddenly disappeared from his face and his eyes turned hesitant, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe me. The truth was that I couldn't sense any danger in that peaceful place, let alone his wife, who was at least ten miles away. But I needed to do something to make him listen. I wasn't trying to scare him, but to save him from making a big mistake. His plan was a terrible idea, and I didn't need special powers to see that—just common sense and a tad of reality check.
“You can sense that?” he asked, dead serious.
“Yes,” I replied earnestly, trying to fill my voice with conviction. “You're going to get us all killed with your commando strategies if you're not careful.”
“So, do you have a better idea?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
For the next hour we discussed a plan that involved a note that Damian was going to write, directing his wife to meet him at a restaurant on the outskirts of town—a public place full of people. Denali was to deliver the note, driving an old pickup truck he kept in the garage. The old Toyota Tacoma belonged to his dad, who used to run his own landscaping business, Johnson & Sons. Fortunately, the logo was still visible on both sides of the black sand pearl truck, which would definitely work to our advantage. Denali even had his dad's old overalls, which he was going to wear in order to create the perfect disguise.