“I got it Martha!” I yelled as I ran down the stairs.
As I did, I hit a few keys on my phone.
I looked though the peep-hole in the door and saw a calm, but still slightly angry, Alex with her phone pressed to her ear. I saw her eyes widen as she heard what I was thinking. It was too late.
I flung open the door and took a picture of her with my phone.
She looked like she wanted to murder me.
“What?” I asked. “Too soon?”
Chapter Sixteen
He held the phone up with an innocent grin plastered across his face. The first thought crossing Alex's mind was a quick calculation of how many rounds she could pump into Jack before anyone would notice. Then she realized she didn't have her gun with her.
Bare hands would have to suffice.
“What?” he asked. “Too soon?”
She observed in his mind the odd combination of satisfaction at the picture, and guilt over not telling her about the previous night's activities. Underneath all the emotions roiling around lay an overwhelming excitement.
He’s in a really good mood.
She found his mood contagious. It bled into her and washed away the anger. The annoyance stayed, but she no longer wanted to unload thirteen rounds into his chest.
Progress.
“Alex, I'm sorry I didn’t tell you about last night,” he said. But I'm totally not even close to sorry for taking a picture, he thought. Awesome! “I literally had no time to make the decision to go, and I was on the phone for almost the entire time.”
“And the rest of the time when you weren't on the phone?”
His eyes widened in excitement. “I'll show you.” He turned and sprinted—literally sprinted—up the stairs towards his room. His head a jumble of thoughts ranging from how good bacon smelled to paranormal creatures to wondering if he should make the picture he just took his desktop wallpaper.
Alex closed the door behind her and calmly took the stairs. She was still attempting to process that Jack, even with the help of the Insider, had been able to easily get inside Helix and take whatever he wanted.
Maybe “had been led to” was more accurate.
The Insider hadn't told her exactly what had been taken, but among the topics they discussed over thirty minutes was the phrase “Project Sentinel”. She didn't have any real details, but she'd heard the name in the minds of a few of the higher level people when they came by the facility. She'd also heard it in the mind of Jack's father.
Do yourself a favor, the Insider said. See what you can find out about something called Project Sentinel. It may just make a few of your job responsibilities make a lot more sense. Ever wonder why it was important for you to always be in Jack’s classes? Ask about the program. Say you want a bigger role. Get onboard. Make yourself useful.
There hadn't been time. When the call with the Insider had finally ended she had been exhausted. And now she was here with dozens of questions, and only Jack's mind to pick clean of any potential information.
She entered his room to find him sitting on his bed. He smiled hesitantly and patted the mattress next to him.
Awkward…
Then she noticed the black duffel-bag behind him. To his right lay a thick book that reminded her of the old books she had read upon entering Helix's security division.
She picked his mind. Ah. Of course. Of everything in the room, Jack had chosen his grandfather's journals. No wonder he appeared so excited. Admittedly, she shared a smaller dose of the same feeling. This was huge. She'd only ever leafed through them under strict supervision. Once. Jack was right. She couldn't have helped him get these. There had been a room full of items, but of course he would take the journals. They would be textbooks for him. But how had he known which ones to take?
Last night it had all seemed so foolish. So utterly stupid of Jack to sneak into Helix. But now she understood. A room full of items belonging to his grandfather? A grandfather with the same abilities Jack now possessed? Of course he had jumped at the chance, throwing all sense of safety and logic to the wind.
“Wyatt's journals,” she said finally.
He nodded his head and pointed at her. “Now you see why I risked it.”
“I've seen that room, Jack.” She walked across the room and sat next to him. “There were dozens and dozens of books. Film reels? Really? Did you just grab what you could?”
Jack shook his head, and she heard the thoughts just a moment before he spoke them. “They had the residue on them. It was thick even though it was old, as if he'd marked them so someone like me—someone like him—would recognize them even if they were mixed in with a million other books. It was incredible, Alex.” He looked bewildered. “I've never felt so completely weirded out by something, yet so completely connected to someone before. I was up all night...” He waved at the books as he trailed off.
She nodded, her mind automatically filtering out the random junk floating through his head. “And you only read one of them? I should punch you in the throat for the risk, but I can't. This was too good to pass up. You were right.”
“Wait, you mean you aren't pissed I broke into Helix?”
“Of course I am,” she replied. “I'm just exhausted. Do you have any idea how many phone calls I received last night, or how many reports I’ll have to fill out?” She didn’t really have any reports, that’s what the other security guards were for. But still. I could have had a lot of reports.
Jack had the good sense to look a little sheepish. “So they found out pretty quickly then?”
“Yeah, and they kept me up all-freaking-night giving me updates.” She hesitated, but decided not mention the conversation with the Insider just yet. “What did you learn?”
He pulled the book over on his lap. “Alex, this thing is nuts. If I hadn't been seeing psychic residue, and having dreams, and almost killed a friend of mine, I'd think my grandfather was a mental patient. But now…this all makes an odd amount of sense.”
His eyes narrowed and he began to think of a…room? A room in his mind? “I wanna try something,” he said. “Don't freak out or anything.”
“Why would I—”
Jack's thoughts dimmed.
They faded in and out, like the volume of a stereo being continually adjusted up and down. Sometimes normal, and other times it dropped to almost a whisper. Sweat beaded his forehead as he tried to focus. His only thought was of a room—his own room judging from his mind—and closing off all the entrances. He let out a breath and everything came flooding back.
She didn't know if she should be impressed or furious. “How…how did you do that?” she asked.
“It worked?” he asked, his voice gruff with exhaustion. “I shut you out?” Jack flopped back onto the bed and covered his eyes with his hands. “All that concentrating killed me…and yeah, I know how that sounds.”
“You didn’t shut me out completely,” Alex said, ignoring the joke. “But it was like listening to a radio station while going through a canyon. Kept going in and out. How did you do that? So that’s why you were thinking of a room.”
“Go to page 353 in the journal. I stumbled on it last night.”
Alex picked up the book and flipped the pages until she reached the correct page. She shook her head as she read the steps described by Wyatt. She stopped reading when she spotted the name “Gaines”. Why am I not surprised?
“You OK?”
She flinched and glanced up at Jack. He leaned on his elbows, a concerned expression on his face. “Yeah. Why?”
“You’ve been staring at that page for, like, five minutes.”
She handed him the book. “Sorry, the passage caught me off guard. I must have gotten a little lost in my thoughts.” Something that never happens to me. Ever.
“What was buggin’ you?”
She shrugged. “The name mentioned there. Gaines. The name doesn’t ring any bells for you?”
“Should it?”
“He’s the current president of
Helix,” she said. “You should know that. How do you not know that?”
Jack shrugged and sat up the rest of the way. “I’ve yet to hear a compelling reason why I should give a crap. Some old dude that could read minds? Some old dude that probably doesn’t know me from Adam. Never mind he’s the president of a company covering up my father’s abduction. Nah. Don’t care. What has he ever done for me or my family?”
Alex nodded. All good points. “Makes sense. I guess he’s been kinda absent for everyone, huh?”
“Uh, sure.” Jack’s eyes narrowed first in confusion, then suspicion. Alex tracked his thoughts until he arrived at the answer. “Wait. Is he…?”
“Yup. My father.”
“Oh man, that—”
“Sucks,” Alex finished. “You said it. Well, thought it.”
Jack fell silent few moments before speaking again. “I feel like I should apologize to you. But let’s be honest. I just can’t feel different about him because he’s your dad. Right now Helix is making my life suck. And why don’t you have the same last name?”
It was her turn to shrug. “He didn’t want me getting any special treatment. I think, in his own way, he also wanted to protect me from the people that would naturally go after him. On first glance it makes me seem unrelated. But it also put a wall between us. We don’t talk much. It’s why…”
“Why what?”
“It’s why I like your dad so much,” she said. “He didn’t even have to try to be like a dad to me, he just was. He knew what I could do and rolled with it. He always brought me an éclair with a candle stuck in it for my birthday. He knew it was my favorite dessert. He was good, you know?”
Alex turned her head and noticed Jack staring at the floor. He had a sad smile on his face, and his thoughts were absolutely focused on one thing. I miss him.
“I miss him,” he said aloud.
“Me too.”
“I need him back,” Jack said quietly. “I’m not really sure how much longer I can deal with this.”
Alex saw past the jokes and smiles Jack constantly put up like a wall around him. He was just a teenager with no parents around and with powers that frightened him as much as thrilled him.
“We’ll go over these books later,” she said. “For now we have some stuff to do.”
“What kind of stuff?”
She gave him a smile full of confidence. “We are going to check out that house where the murders happened. Where you saw that image of Abby Smith.”
He blinked in disbelief. “If this is your idea of lightening the mood, you need to work on your people skills. Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“How do we have access to the place?” he asked. “Won’t the cops be all over?”
“Nope.” She slapped him on the back and stood up. “While there are some absurd drawbacks to being in charge of Helix’s secret security—the number of phones calls by itself is enough to drive a girl crazy—there are some perks too.”
“Like?”
“Like having the cops in Helix’s back pocket. Remember?”
“Oh.” A moment later in a stronger voice, “All right then. Let’s get going. What are we looking for?”
Alex grinned again. Get the mood away from depressing crap. “I’m going to look for physical clues.” She reached out her hand and pulled Jack up. “You are going to use your psychic superpower and see if we can’t figure out what really happened.”
“Let’s do it,” Jack said.
Chapter Seventeen
Yellow police tape stirred lazily in the mid-morning breeze. The Smith home had a vacant air. Maybe it was just my imagination but the home seemed dead, like the former occupants.
The psychic residue on the front of the house was gone. I considered this a good thing. After a morning full of discovery, the excitement of going to a crime scene had worn off by the time we arrived. I think had the residue lingered, I would have lost all my motivation. I wasn’t sure what Alex hoped we might find, but she was the boss.
It was early enough most people were still inside in the neighborhood, but late enough all the local kids were already at school. There was no one out to wonder why two teenagers were walking up to a house where murder had just been committed. I could only imagine the conclusions people would have jumped to.
I got out of the car and closed the passenger’s side door as quietly as I could. Just because no one appeared to be watching didn’t mean people weren’t listening. What if the creepy dude in the robe watched through his peep-hole?
“See anything?” Alex asked. She likely already knew the answer, but it was nice she verbalized her questions. Maybe it was habit. Whatever.
“Nada.”
“Let’s go in.” She pulled a small bag from her back right pocket, a clear baggie containing a single house key. I noticed for the first time she wore tight, latex gloves.
“Gloves?”
“I don’t like leaving prints.” She reached into her left back pocket and pulled out another pair. She handed them to me. “Put these on. I don’t want you leaving prints either.”
“I thought the police were in Helix’s back pocket.”
“Oh they are,” she said, while walking to the front door. “But we don’t want to disturb a scene any more than necessary. Wouldn’t want to screw up some potential evidence, would we? Plus we aren’t even officially supposed to be here.”
“Makes sense.” Actually I felt a little dumb for even asking. I pulled on the gloves. They were tight but not bulky, and I could easily move my fingers around in them.
Alex slid the key into the deadbolt first and then the doorknob lock, letting us inside.
The place was a disaster.
“Was this from the murder?” I asked. Nearly every surface was covered in a black coating I recognized as fingerprinting dust. Every door and drawer that could be opened was—contents removed.
She shook her head. “This was the police. It actually appears everything was in pretty good shape before they got here.”
“You’d think a murder victim would struggle more.”
Alex shrugged. “Hard to say. None of the murders took place in this room, so who knows.”
“How did the cops even know to come over here?”
“911 call,” she replied. “Abby called in saying she thought someone was in the house, then the line went dead. Cops will always respond to that sort of thing. The front door was unlocked, so the cop went in and called out a few times before finding the bodies in the individual rooms. Let’s check those rooms out.”
“Is there going to be a lot of blood?” I asked.
“Nope. That’s why you are here. Maybe you’ll see something I can’t.”
“If there isn’t anything outside, what makes you think…” I trailed off as we entered one of the rooms.
It wasn’t a stretch to assume this was Abby’s room. Posters displaying an unhealthy obsession for Robert Pattinson blanketed the walls. Drawers were opened and fingerprinting dust covered most surfaces.
But none of that was what stood out.
On the floor at the foot of the bed lay residue in the image of Abby Smith. Flat, but in the way a good drawing makes you see depth. The image resembled her in every detail, but in a dark purple hue. Her face locked into a scream—one identical to the one I’d seen on the outside of the house. That normally would have been enough to send me running away like a little girl, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I was frozen in place. Next to her right ear was a residue stain that looked like pooling blood.
Sweat beaded my brow and my stomach heaved.
I’ve seen my share of movies and TV shows where a person comes across a dead body for the first time. They always seem so shocked and horrified. I understood now. For me, this may have been even a little worse, because little waves of terror emanated from the image. The way she had died was so horrific it had stained a perfect, psychic image of her corpse on the floor. I wasn’t sure the residue would ever go away.
Maybe this was how houses became haunted.
I felt a hand grasp mine. Alex. Under other circumstances I might have been excited by the prospect. But not now. “Tell me what you are seeing,” she said.
My eyes closed in an attempt to shut out the vision. “I see Abby. The residue is like the most life-like drawing ever made. She’s screaming her lungs out from pain…and fright…” I swallowed to control my nausea. “I don’t think I can do this, Alex. This is too much.”
“Tell me what you see.”
“I can’t…”
“Jack, you’re the only one seeing this,” she said. Her voice remained completely calm, and some of it rubbed off on me. “If you can think of anyone else who can do better than you and me with this, then we’ll go ask them for help.”
The problem was I did know someone that could do better. Two someones. But one died the day I had been born, and one had been missing for a week.
That left only me and Alex. She knew it and I knew it. But knowing we were the ones who could figure this out didn’t make me feel any better. Instead, the responsibility lay like weights were being loaded on my shoulders.
“Take a deep breath.” She squeezed my hand.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. You got this, I said to myself. I opened my eyes and stared back at the 2-D residue figure on the floor. “It’s kinda weird,” I said, keeping my voice as steady as possible. “There is a pool next to her head like she bled out, but I don’t see any actual blood stain.”
“There wasn’t a blood stain,” Alex said. “The medical examiners are still trying to figure out the cause of death. As of this morning they still don’t have anything. What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” I said, but something in my voice must have hinted I did have something. My mind circled an idea.
“Give me your best guess. Crazy doesn’t matter.”
I turned my head and stared in her eyes. They were filled with confidence. “Something in her bled out…psychically. Like her soul or something. I don’t know.”
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