Mindspeak

by Sunseri, Heather

  Wellington Boarding School.

  Others were blank.

  I recognized many of the names. Lower classmen, mostly. Sixth, seventh and some eighth graders.

  At the bottom of the spreadsheet was a second tab: Test Group.

  That tab brought up the same information as the first, but only seven names were listed: Jack DeWeese, Sarah Roslin, Kyle Jones, Briana Howard and three names I didn’t recognize.

  I stared at the screen, paralyzed. My heart beat wildly out-of-control. If I didn’t get a handle on my breathing soon I would pass out.

  Where are you? Jack’s thought startled me.

  Jack.

  I’m waiting.

  I closed my mind off from him. Think, Lexi. I closed the spreadsheet. Returned to the main page where I found another icon titled, Letter to Lexi.

  Jack, I’m sorry. I’ll have to meet you at the gala.

  What’s wrong?

  Nothing. I tried to keep my thoughts controlled. Like nothing was wrong. I’m just having trouble picking out the right shoes.

  I opened the letter. My hands shook, and my palms turned into a cold, clammy mess. These would be the last words my father had written to me.

  Dearest Lexi:

  If you are reading this letter, I waited too long to tell you the truth and to get you out of Wellington. I’m sorry. I wanted to explain your creation to you myself. However, I thought it was best to wait until you were of an age to make your own important decisions. I should have trusted you with the truth sooner.

  I’m assuming that you know by now that you are the nearly identical clone of Sandra Whitmeyer. I have just gotten back in touch with Dr. John DeWeese, as you know, and I hope that he will help you understand why I did what I did and the reality that you must live with now.

  If you are reading this, I am most likely dead. My only regret is that I didn’t make you safe sooner. If I am dead, you are in danger. Trust no one completely, Sarah.

  Dr. Roger Wellington is the mastermind behind The Program. This “program” is in the early stages of development and was initially designed to teach you about who you are and the talents you were given before you were born. I had hoped to find the others like you before now. At the time I’m writing this letter, there are two other original clones at Wellington with you. Kyle Jones and Briana Howard. And, of course, you now know Jack DeWeese.

  Though I never intended for Sandra’s experiment to go as far as it did, I can’t change the outcome. I have never regretted that you are my daughter. I love you, Sarah. But now, if you are to live the life you were meant to live, you must stand strong and face the facts laid out within this website.

  Hidden in this website is my research and all the evidence I have gathered to prove that Sandra Whitmeyer had always intended for the cloned embryos to become actual human beings. She was secretly funded by the International Intelligence Agency, and she planted evidence to incriminate the rest of us in her plan. When the lab went up in flames, so did her plan.

  However, evidence shows that the IIA did not stop. Neither did Sandra. Besides the original test group, the IIA continued to clone and genetically alter embryos. You will find more information regarding this in the files. Be careful who you share this information with.

  Wellington Boarding School was supposed to be a safe haven for the clones we found over the years. And a school where you could obtain the education you need to go on to college and medical school, but also a school where you could learn the medical knowledge necessary to enhance the powers you were given at birth.

  I do not know how long Wellington will be safe for you and the others. That is why I have equipped a safe house for you. The key I sent you is the key to that house. Everything you could need is secure within that house. If you have to run, RUN! You know where this house is.

  I’m sorry, Sarah. My hope was to tell you everything by the time you turned eighteen, so that you would be ready to face the reality of your gifts, and with the help of a college education and medical school, you would use your gifts for good.

  Your mother and I are very proud of the woman you have become.

  Love,

  Dad

  I stared at the computer screen. The words blurred in front of me. I lost all feeling in my fingers and hands.

  Trust no one. A tear fell from one eye, and I shoved it away with one violent swipe of my palm.

  A safe house. Where?

  And my mother? Dad was in contact with my mother?

  “Lexi.”

  I jumped to my feet, knocking my chair over. Jack stood in the doorway.

  “What’s wrong?” His voice was low, hesitant.

  Trust no one. I studied Jack’s face while keeping my thoughts shut completely off from him. I felt his mind knocking on the barrier I erected. I could trust him, couldn’t I? I didn’t know anymore.

  He stepped toward me. “What is it? Why aren’t you dressed for the gala?”

  “I…” I looked around the room. For what? I had no idea.

  Jack glanced at the computer. The letter from Dad was still up on the screen. I quickly punched the “x” at the top of the screen. Closed out of the letter and the website, then closed the laptop.

  “What’s got you so freaked out?” He closed the distance between us. He placed his hands on either side of my face and tilted my head back to look directly in my eyes. “Whatever it is… just tell me. I can’t help you unless I know.”

  The fear in his eyes sent a chill down my spine. I searched my heart. My eyes darted back and forth between his. My father’s words played over and over.

  But then I saw it. His eyes softened. What I thought was fear of me knowing the truth was fear for me. “You love me,” I whispered.

  “Unconditionally. I’ll do anything for you. You must know that.”

  I knew his words were true. He already knew almost everything in the letter from Dad. Jack was willing to sacrifice his life to help me escape. He was willing to sacrifice his own safety in the miniscule hope that he might still save a young girl’s life.

  Jack lowered his head closer, his lips hovering over mine. His breath warmed against my face. I hungered for his kiss, and when his lips pressed against mine, I felt the familiar tingling in my stomach.

  His hand roamed up the back of my shirt. The warmth of his palm pressed against my bare skin, pushing my body against his. I slid my fingers into his hair. Desire erupted between us.

  When we were both out of breath, he released me. But only a little. Our heads remained millimeters apart. Our chests rose and fell at a heavy, synchronized rate.

  “I love you,” I finally said.

  “I know.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “And I love you.”

  How would I ever say good-bye to him? But how could I possibly stay?

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Jack and I stood in the corner of the school’s atrium watching the crowd thicken for the art showing and gala.

  His fingers roamed beneath my long hair and massaged the nape of my neck. I wore a long, flowing dress. The fabric formed a “v” in the back, giving Jack plenty of bare skin to touch. His lips grazed my ear as he whispered to me. “I’m not going to stop touching you tonight.”

  I took in a sharp breath, committing his scent to memory.

  The gala was the type of event that drew the school’s extensive supporters and trustees for a night of art, cocktails and fun. A silent auction of the art at the end typically raised a ton of money for the school and for the University of Kentucky Children’s Hospital, a charity chosen by the students of Wellington.

  Seth Whitmeyer sipped punch while speaking with Dean Fisher and Coach Williams across from us.

  Oh, what I would give to know what they are talking about.

  Jack grazed my neck with his fingers as he brushed my hair to the side. I’d like to know what you are thinking. I wish I’d never taught you how to shut your thoughts off to me.

  I looked back at him. We probably would
not be standing here like this if you hadn’t.

  Good point.

  I won’t say good-bye to you. I closed my eyes briefly.

  You don’t have to. It’s not good-bye. It’s just see ya later. I will find you when it’s safe. Jack’s hands squeezed my shoulders. I will always find you.

  You remember the username and password?

  Locked up tight inside my head.

  I ran my fingers across my lips, remembering the kiss from earlier. After the kiss, I’d shown Jack everything on the site and made him memorize the password.

  Dad had thought of everything, all the way down to creating a secured message board inside the website. I assumed he meant to use it eventually to communicate with me, but now, Jack and I would use it.

  I thought back to Dad’s warning to trust no one. Do you think Coach Williams was really hired by my dad to protect me?

  The rest of his story checked out, and Father seemed to think so. For now though, we’ll leave him on the “do not trust” list.

  Though Seth spoke every so often to the dean and to Coach, his eyes never stopped roaming the room. He sipped from his glass again. Then he looked in our direction, his expression severe, before turning toward the door.

  “Mommy Dearest is here,” Jack said close to my ear. “Her fangs appear to be out.”

  Cathy entered through the main doors. She was dressed in a bright red, tailored suit with a high collar. I chuckled at the vampire reference.

  Dani, Briana, and Kyle approached us, playfully arguing about something.

  “This is sooo boring,” Danielle said. “We should go see the art, so we can hit the roof once the adults succumb to their adult ways.”

  “Adult ways?” I raised a brow.

  “You know, spiking their punch and shutting us kids out of their stuffy conversations.” Danielle smiled. “Besides, I want to see the nude you talked Ms. Waters into featuring.”

  “How’d you manage a nude, Lexi?” Kyle asked. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Waters is a major conservative. I heard it was crazy impossible to even get her to allow the models to reveal much skin.”

  Briana slapped Kyle playfully. “The imagination is an amazing tool.” She tilted her head side to side. “I mean… I’ve seen you in a Speedo.”

  Everyone laughed.

  While the others started toward the maze of exhibits, I scrutinized the room again. Something the size of a double bacon cheeseburger sat uneasily in the pit of my stomach.

  “Shall we?” Jack stuck out his arm for me. “I’m dying to see the nude everyone’s talking about. How did you manage to get a nude entered into the exhibit?”

  “The mind is a powerful thing, my friend.”

  Jack raised a fist to his chest. “Oh, you wound me, Miss Matthews. Surely by now we’re more than friends.”

  “Stop. You know we are.”

  “Let’s go see the art.”

  We walked around the maze of temporary walls filled with art, admiring the many pieces. Jack said his favorite was the charcoal I did of Cherriana. “You’re very talented, you know.”

  “No. I just like to play around. And since I have zero musical talent, Wellington required me to choose some kind of art.”

  “Her eyes are so sad.”

  I stared at Cherriana’s big brown eyes and remembered the mood I was in when I drew her. “She’s somewhat of a caged animal. Literally and metaphorically.” In the charcoal, I drew Cherriana running free in the woods where Jack and I had ridden. “I imagined that even though she was the result of mad scientists, trapped inside a body created by man and not by the will of God, she should run free in the world.”

  Jack stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “We’ll ride together again. I promise.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded.

  We moved on and found the others standing in front of the nude. Dani cupped her hand over her mouth, whispering something to Bree. They both giggled.

  It was killing me not to tell Kyle and them both what I knew about The Program. Jack assured me that he would tell them when he was positive it was safe to do so. He thought having me safe on the outside would insure they had a fighting chance to escape Wellington if it became necessary.

  Problem was… I wasn’t on the outside yet.

  The group of us walked to the next painting. Jack kept his promise by holding my hand as we stared at Danielle’s dramatic oil painting of two eyes.

  Briana sidled up to me. “I think Danielle has a crush?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t recognize those eyes?” she asked before walking away without telling me who it was.

  I stared longer. The eyes were a beautiful color of amber with specks of blue throughout. Almost black eyebrows tilted inward, causing a “v” in the skin between the eyes. The eyes seemed worried. Determined. Yet warm and sad at the same time.

  The eyes were definitely familiar to me. But it was an oil painting for crying out loud.

  “What do you think?” Dani stood beside me now.

  “The painting is superb,” I said. “Who’s the model?”

  “This is the man I’m going to marry.”

  I smiled. Jack dropped my hand and whispered in my ear, “I’ll be right back.” My palm turned cold as air hit the skin Jack had been holding tightly.

  Dani analyzed her own painting.

  “What do you mean marry?” I asked.

  “These are the eyes from my dreams.” She folded her arms across her chest. I turned back to the eyes. She continued, “Remember the nightmare? The one where I told you I was in the dark, looking for you?”

  “You’re telling me this is the guy that wanted you to find me?” I stared into the eyes. It hit me. He was from my dream earlier today. He led me to the infirmary.

  Was this the same guy from my nightmares?

  “Yeah. I’ve dreamt about him practically every night since then. Never like that first night, though. He’s kind in my dreams now. Never leading me in the dark.” She stopped and looked at me. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

  “No, of course not,” I whispered.

  Briana and Kyle joined us again, each carrying two glasses of punch and offering Dani and me one.

  “Thanks.” I sipped slowly while I studied Briana and remembered her words. I think Danielle has a crush.

  If Briana recognized those eyes, and those eyes are the same as from Dani’s nightmare… I shifted my stare from Briana to Kyle. Oh, God. Kyle. He’s been right in front of me all this time.

  Did Kyle try to kill me?

  I looked around for Jack. The familiar build of panic bubbled up inside my chest.

  “Lexi, you okay?” Kyle touched my elbow.

  I jerked my head back toward Kyle, who stared at me. A cocktail of emotions passed over his face—curiosity, concern, anxiety. But the desire to kill me?

  Behind him, Cathy DeWeese, Roger Wellington and Seth Whitmeyer walked toward us, admiring artwork along the way. Or pretending to, I suspected.

  All at once, they turned toward the four of us. Me, Briana, Danielle, and Kyle. Three of us, part of the original test sample.

  Kyle moved closer to me. His lips lifted into a nervous smile. “Something wrong, Lexi?” His expression changed, as recognition must have shown in mine. “You know, don’t you?” Alarm coated his whispered words. He moved behind me, placing a firm hand on my waist. “Act normal. Don’t let them see the fear all over your face or tonight will go very badly.”

  Again with the ‘act normal’ stuff. My hands shook. I tucked them into my armpits. Jack! Where are you? It was Kyle, Jack. Kyle has been inside my head. He tried to kill me.

  I couldn’t breathe. I squirmed against Kyle’s hand on my waist. I thought my knees might buckle. Jack didn’t respond.

  Cathy approached. “Hi, Lexi. Loving the art tonight. Your father never mentioned how talented you are.” She tapped her compact purse against her lips. “Oh, and honey,” she said. Her
term of endearment sent a fit of rage cursing through my blood. “Jack had to leave. Something came up with a dear friend of his. He said to let you know.”

  Shit! Jack wouldn’t have left without telling me. Something’s wrong.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Where’s Dr. DeWeese tonight?”

  “John had an emergency. He had to leave town unexpectedly.”

  I redirected my gaze toward Seth, who stood behind Cathy and her brother. He lifted his chin and motioned for me to follow him. How was I supposed to do that without anyone noticing?

  “May I have your attention, please?” Dean Fisher’s voice sounded over the speaker.

  Visitors and students made their way out of the maze of art and back into the main room, where Dean Fisher stood at a podium. I glanced toward the door. Seth had his hand on the door handle.

  Jack was nowhere. I took a few steps toward Seth, but Kyle was on me. His fingers wrapped around my wrist. “You can’t leave.” It was a threat. “Not yet.”

  I looked down at his wrist then up at the arrogance in his eyes.

  “As you all know,” the dean began, “we have experienced somewhat of a security breach at Wellington recently. But don’t worry,” he smiled. He raised his hands to the side like he was giving a Presidential speech. “Our students’ safety is our number one concern. Which is why—”

  “He’s convincing, isn’t he?” Kyle whispered in my ear. His breath felt hot on my neck.

  Panic threatened to paralyze me. I had to get out of there. I had to find Jack.

  My backpack, and only source of tissues, was tucked behind a bush near the parking lot, ready for my quick escape later tonight. I looked around for some napkins. If blood began pouring out of my nose now, I was afraid Kyle would know what I was doing. How much did he know?

  “Which is why we have implemented our new and improved security system. I must say, I’m pretty proud of it.” Dean chuckled, like this was an everyday speech.

  Students began to eye each other, whispering nervously.

  “First, the outer perimeter of the school is now protected by an electric fence that will keep potential intruders safely on the outside.”