“Cora was right,” I said hoarsely. “You’re not getting anything else out of her today.”
Lanier didn’t respond. He simply left.
When Jillian’s sobs petered out, I tucked her into the bed. She wouldn’t let go of my hand, so I let her keep it until she fell asleep. Only then did I move past the goons into the private bathroom, turn on the faucet, splash my face with icy water, and have a private meltdown.
Varick needs to get here soon. I’m not sure how long we can continue like this. Lanier’s mental state is decaying at lightning speed. I’ll be shocked if Jillian ever willingly speaks to the man again, not that I blame her.
When I recovered enough nerves to walk steadily, I returned to the main room and asked to be taken to Cora. The lackeys had a brief debate over whether the boss would go for it but eventually cleared the point up by asking. Upon hearing that Jillian was deep in a restful sleep, Lanier magnanimously granted permission for the visit.
I found Cora sitting cross-legged on her cot with her head leaning listlessly against the wall. One glance at me prompted an inquiry into recent events. I waited for the guard to remove the cuffs, lock the cell, and leave before spitting the mini-saga out in a steady stream of verbal vomit. I stalked around the cage like an angry tiger. Cora merely listened and occasionally coughed, which reminded me of the troubles she’d suffered by taking my place. The guilt made me ask about her latest adventures.
She described everything from being driven to the abandoned motel to being drugged to Mr. Clark’s daring rescue with a fire axe.
I smiled at Jillian’s cleverness. Sadness and pride mixed.
“She made Mr. Clark do the hard work. That must be the reason for the gauze he’s sporting today.”
“Jillian read the situation perfectly as I knew she would,” Cora said.
The question I came to ask seared my mind so I got it out.
“Do you think Lanier’s last act will have a permanent effect on her?”
“It certainly wasn’t smart on his part,” Cora commented.
“I don’t care about him. Will she be all right?”
Cora studied me.
“Will you be all right?”
“I don’t—” I cut myself off because I knew what she meant. The fact that I was here in her cell not an hour after the incident demanding answers said I’d probably recover. “Yes, but she’s not me.”
“No,” Cora agreed, “she’s stronger. They all are because they have to be.” Cora’s British calm scraped against my nerves.
“They shouldn’t have to be stronger!” I shouted. “Where does it say they have to spend their lives moving from one terrifying situation to the next?”
After waiting to make sure that was the only question I wanted answered, Cora said, “Human nature always makes slaves of the powerful. It’s one of the great ironies.”
“It’s terrible.”
“Perhaps, but don’t think they never get a chance to live or love. They are more passionate than most people. Don’t you sense that in Jillian? Has Varick not declared himself yet?”
My mouth flapped like a fish sucking in water.
Grinning at my flustered state, Cora went on.
“That lad has been in love a long time. He’s not that hard to read, very few people are.”
“What do you read about me?” I inquired, eager to move the conversation to a different vein.
Cora bore my clumsy switch with grace.
“You hate doing nothing. You seek to be useful. You’re a peacekeeper and a loyal friend. You have a level head, a strong heart, and a desire to ease others. That’s why you’re here asking about Jillian’s mental state.”
My cheeks flushed.
“And compliments make you uncomfortable.”
“What about Lanier?” I asked, seeking another swift topic switch.
“You’ll have to come closer if you want that answer as I’m not sure I want the walls to know.” Only once our heads were ducked close did Cora continue, “He is a spiteful, creative, cowardly man who seeks the approval of people smarter than himself. He will hurt what he cannot conquer. That is my fear for Jillian. When you see her, encourage her to pretend to cooperate.”
“Could you?” I asked. Remembering to lower my voice, I added, “Pretend to cooperate, I mean.” I suddenly realized I knew next to nothing about this woman. “Who are you? What’s your real name?”
“It holds little meaning for me. Why do you care to know?”
I had to think a moment to compose an answer.
“You know much about everybody. That must be quite a burden. Maybe if I know who you were, I’ll learn more of who you are.” I let the hint of a smile form. “You did say I was nosy like that.”
“Clara,” she whispered. “My name was Clara Amelia Turner.”
Over the next hour, Cora described her charmed early life. She spoke of private tutors and horseback riding over the vast grounds of her parents’ estate. She described her parents, Arthur and Marion Turner, as loving but willful and distant people who wanted her to run the family business with her younger brother. The brother, Matthew, cared only for creating music, which left her parents to pin their hopes on her. Instead of giving in to the pressures, Clara chose to become Cora and fled to America.
If you set her story in a different century, threw in a dash of romance, and shook well, you’d have a fine historical fiction tale. I kept that observation to myself.
When the guard came to collect me, I thanked Cora for sharing her past. I felt like I’d known her for years now, and I was grateful for the diversion from our current woes.
Cora’s New Friend,
Danielle Matheson.
Chapter 24:
Change of Plans
ITEM 208: Jillian’s 102nd post-kidnapping journal entry
Item Source: Jillian Blairington
Betraying the state Nadia was in made me feel like a traitor, but I couldn’t let Dr. Lanier kill Danielle. I know now that he was faking, but he’s crazy enough to fill the gun someday.
Concern for things I mighta set in motion made me check on Dr. Carnasis and Nadia. Risking a massive headache, I reached for my Second Momma and put her in a light sleep so I could draw on her recent memories. Despite the early hour, I found her partially dozing, so I didn’t need to use much of my Gift. I think she’d been waiting for me ’cause I found the memories almost instantly wrapped in small bundles in the first dream I stumbled upon. Gathering copies of each bundle, I returned to my own head to open and shape the dreams.
Despite the number of memory packets, there were only three distinct scenes contained in the packages. If I’d had to put ’em together by myself, it coulda taken days, but Dr. Carnasis numbered the memories and the pieces, making my job easy.
The first scene looked more like a postcard trying to tempt ya to visit. The view showed a lake surrounded by mountains covered in bright yellow and dark green trees. In the distance, it showed more mountains, but these boasted bold sections of black and red rocks dotted with patches of pure white snow. The lake water formed a nice mirror image of the mountains above, making everything seem larger and more colorful. Curious, I wished to know where the image came from. The words Aspen, Colorado appeared in clear white letters on the lake water, then faded.
“Are they feeding ya, Dr. Evie?” Maisha’s voice called. “Ya look peaked.”
I switched the perspective so I could watch Maisha and Mr. Allen slowly approach Dr. Carnasis and a man I didn’t recognize. Maisha and Mr. Allen both had their hands full. Maisha carried something wrapped in a towel, and Mr. Allen staggered along with two large suitcases. Even the guy I didn’t know held a gun in one hand. The only one not holding anything was Dr. Carnasis. She’d been gripping a railing, but when she turned around, she leaned back against the railing.
Looking pale and short of breath, my Second Momma offered Maisha and Mr. Allen a weak smile.
“I’m fine, Maisha. The elevation doesn’t agree wi
th me is all.”
“It looks like the company doesn’t agree with you either,” said Mr. Allen, casting a dark look at the man with the gun.
“There is that.” Dr. Carnasis nodded and waved vaguely in the man’s direction. “This is Stan Hanley, Darren’s second-in-command. He’s not so bad, once you get past the gun obsession. It reminds me of Karita. Stan, this is Maisha and Anthony.”
Maisha turned her attention to Mr. Hanley.
“Honey, put the gun away. Ain’t no need for that here. We came ta deliver the medicine for Miss Nadia an’ check on Dr. Evie.”
Mr. Hanley let the gun drop to his side, but he kept a tight grip on it.
“She’s alive. Leave the medicine and go.”
Mr. Allen carefully set the clunky suitcases down and glowered at Mr. Hanley.
“We’ll go when we’re ready to go.”
His words made Mr. Hanley tense up like a dog fixing to have somebody’s hand for a chew toy.
“Easy, boys,” said my Second Momma. Looking at Maisha, she added, “Looks like the gentlemen aren’t much for small talk. Better show me what you’ve brought.”
“Mr. Allen done all the hard liftin’ today. All I’s gots is the cornbread. I kept it in foil for ya, but the towel’s there ta keep it pretty.” Maisha stepped forward and placed the bundle in Dr. Carnasis’s arms. The towel she’d draped on top was white with big red letters spelling out: LOVE.
“Thank you, Maisha. Darren’s a decent cook, but he can’t touch your cornbread.”
Rolling his eyes, Mr. Hanley grumbled, “Show us the goods.”
Mr. Allen turned both suitcases towards Dr. Carnasis and Mr. Hanley and popped the lids up.
My Second Momma set the cornbread down on the deck and quickly riffled through the suitcase contents.
“It’s all here,” she concluded. She swayed as she stood up.
Catching her in a bracing hug, Maisha said, “I hates ta see ya like this, Princess.”
“I hate to feel like this,” Dr. Carnasis replied, returning the hug. “It’ll get better when we return to a normal elevation.”
“That ain’t what I mean, an’ you know it, Dr. Evie,” Maisha scolded.
“I know. You take care of Dean, and let me worry about Darren.”
Hugging Dr. Carnasis tight one last time, Maisha said, “Be safe, honey.”
The memory dissolved into a black space before forming a new scene. For a second, I thought I was still in the black space ’cause everything was mighty dim. The only light came from the control panel on the gurney holding Nadia. Imagining that I could see things clearer caused everything to light up in a green haze like I was looking through night vision goggles. Guess that’s how I pictured it ought to be ’cause of a level in The Immortal Warrior, one of Varick’s video games.
The figure of my Second Momma bent over Nadia, giving her a shot. Then, she prepared a second shot and stuck it in her own arm. Placing her lips next to Nadia’s left ear, Dr. Carnasis whispered the instructions I’d asked her to deliver. She spoke the words slowly and clearly three times before placing a quick kiss in the center of Nadia’s forehead.
I thought the memory would end there, but after a long pause, my Second Momma leaned close to Nadia’s ear again.
“If you can hear me, Nadia, I want you to fight. Listen to Jillian. She knows her business. I’ve reprogrammed some of the new nanomachines, but they should still obey you for now. I’ve done all I can to delay, but Darren’s buyers are impatient. You must awaken before the deal closes. If they take you away from me, I cannot help you. Please, fight this.”
The third and final scene began with a startling shout. Strangely, only the sound came through on this one until the very end.
“No! No! No! Tell me you didn’t give her all the machines!” Darren sounded desperate.
“I didn’t give her all the machines,” Dr. Carnasis replied.
“Don’t lie to me! You must have. They’re gone!”
“Maybe you should calm down, Darren,” said Mr. Hanley. I recognized his voice from the medicine handoff.
“Maybe you should—”
“I’m serious, Darren. Step away from her. Now.”
“Stan? You? What the—”
“I got a better offer from an all-American buyer. I’m sorry.”
“That’s what this is about? Look, if you had problems with the buyer—”
“Get out here so we can talk about it, man. And keep your hands high.”
“I’ll double your share. Triple it even.”
“I’m not going to tell you again.”
A metal door banged open followed quickly by the unmistakable sound of two gunshots.
My Second Momma gasped. The visual part of the memory returned, fixing on Mr. Hanley’s grim face and ever-present gun pointed directly at Dr. Carnasis.
“Pack it up, Doc. There’s been a change of plans.”
Chapter 25:
Fair Trade
ITEM 209: Jillian’s 103rd post-kidnapping journal entry
Item Source: Jillian Blairington
The fact that I was watching my Second Momma’s dreams proved Mr. Hanley hadn’t killed her, but I wasn’t comfortable letting the image stand. A quick check confirmed that I had no more memory pieces, so I reached with my Gift for Dr. Carnasis. Even if I gave myself a headache, I needed to see her recent memories. Varick would need the information to rescue Dr. Carnasis and Nadia. Once again, I found my Second Momma eager to share recent events, though this time there was only one package waiting for me.
The scene opened much like the other had closed with Mr. Hanley pointing a gun at Dr. Carnasis, except this time there wasn’t an open cage door between ’em. Instead, she peered down from the back of a tall tractor trailer. I toggled the view so I could watch both parties.
“You’ll like your new home, Doc,” Mr. Hanley assured. “My boss even tells me he has the Dreamer and her sidekick. They’ll be happy to see you.”
“Who are you working for now?” Dr. Carnasis used her left arm to brace herself as she leaned heavily on the doorway.
“Fellow called Lanier. Don’t know much about him, but I think he’s a doctor. You should fit in well if he doesn’t kill you or trade you back to Dr. Dean. He didn’t offer, and I didn’t pry. He’s paying very well—”
“For you not to care,” Dr. Carnasis finished. “You sound like Darren.”
“Were you sweet on him, Doc?” Mr. Hanley chuckled and shook his head. “I didn’t think all that Stockholm crap was real.”
“I’m trying to warn you as I did Darren. This path is likely to kill you.”
“I’m paying the others triple what that stingy rat offered,” said Mr. Hanley. “I shouldn’t have any problems, but I appreciate the concern. Now tuck your arms in so I can close the door.”
Dropping to one knee and keeping her left hand by the door hinge, my Second Momma made one more plea.
“Stan, please, let me wake the girl and go. Lanier’s not a stable individual.”
Surprise brightened Mr. Hanley’s eyes.
“You know him?”
“I know of him,” Dr. Carnasis corrected. “Dean and I turned down his application to join Votive years ago.”
“So the star pupil meets the reject, and I’ve got a ringside seat. Lucky me. Move your hands.” Mr. Hanley twitched the gun to emphasize the order.
Letting her hand slip away from the hinge, Dr. Carnasis said, “We turned him down for very good reasons.” The heavy truck doors slammed shut followed by the metallic sounds of a lock being added. Pivoting on her supporting knee, my Second Momma turned and leaned against the truck doors. Placing her head against the metal, she quietly listed those reasons to the air. “He’s got half Dean’s brilliance, twice his ambition and temper, and a bankrupt sense of morality.”
When rumbling vibrations announced the rig waking up, Dr. Carnasis climbed to her feet and went to check on Nadia. Panel lights built into the sides and ceiling provided a comfor
ting glow, flickering occasionally if the truck hit a menacing pothole. Restless, my Second Momma spent the beginning part of the trip pacing the truck’s length, forming a plan. I sped through that part ’cause even though she sometimes argued with herself most of the discussion took place in her head. While that meant a different memory would have the complete plan, I knew if I waited long enough the plan would just happen.
I let the memory play normally when Dr. Carnasis sat down, strapped in, turned her head slightly left, closed her eyes, and cupped her right cheek. Her emotions had shifted from uncertain to very certain.
“Varick.” She spoke his name once and waited. “Varick, I know you’re close and coming for Nadia and me, but I have a new plan and I need your help.”
She started responding like he’d said something, but I paused the dream, reversed it, and shaped it so I could hear my brother’s words.
“I’m going to hate your new plan, aren’t I?” Varick’s tone spoke of weariness and concern, but he didn’t waste time with pleasantries.
“You need to come for Nadia, but I’m going to take her place,” Dr. Carnasis explained. “I’ve programmed some nanomachines to alter our features. It’s crude and temporary, but it should give you the time you need.”
“I officially hate this plan,” Varick declared. “No offense, ma’am, but I think the blighters have locked you up too long. Why would you want to stay with them?”
“He’s going to take me to my daughter and to Lanier. We can’t risk him disappearing with her.”
“Dr. Robinson is on her way to aid Jillian. There’s no need for this,” Varick argued.
“There’s every need for this,” Dr. Carnasis countered. “If the program works right, you should be able to track me. As long as Lanier thinks I’m Nadia, he’ll keep me close.”
“And if he finds out you stole his prize, he’ll not be gentle,” Varick warned.
“Fair trade,” said my Second Momma. She tried sounding brave but her voice was soft and scratchy. “Find us and save my daughter.” A strained smile formed. “If you manage to save me too, I’d be grateful.”
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