Crystal Fire

by Jordan Dane

  Gabe nodded. He didn’t have to know Rafe the way she did to figure out what might’ve happened. He only had to know what it felt like to lose someone he would’ve traded places with.

  Haven Hills Treatment Facility

  Ward 8

  Fiona stood over Oliver Blue and stared at his shuddering body. He gasped for air from under the black helmet that she’d created to rob the boy of his senses. Even though he was still strapped down by restraints on his arms and legs, she took the precaution to have security guards with her. She had no idea how violent he could become once she got the sensory-deprivation gear off him and he felt the world again for the first time in weeks.

  The truth was that she would’ve preferred no witnesses to her success or failure. Oliver had the potential to be her greatest achievement or nothing except a tortured mind that she’d created from her failed experiment. She didn’t know what Alexander Reese would think of her rogue tactics. That’s why she kept separate the real patient files locked away in Ward 8, in an exam room where she kept a second office. Her research was too important to be confiscated and misinterpreted by anyone, including Alexander.

  There was only one reason Alexander would find out about Oliver now—if the boy became her triumph. If he turned out to be an utter failure, he would end up like Zack and remain her secret. Fiona reached out her hand to touch his bare belly. She let her fingers linger on his skin, even while he cried out for help.

  “Shh. I’m here, Oliver.”

  She knew he couldn’t hear her, but her gentle strokes over his body made him stop thrashing and crying out. By the time she touched his chin, he’d stopped fighting. Fiona put on latex gloves. She would check his vitals before she detached him from the equipment that monitored his vital signs and hydrated and fed him. She also administered a mild sedative to keep him calm. After she took off the helmet, no telling how he’d react.

  “Come on, Oliver. Take a deep breath for me. Be a good boy,” she whispered.

  Fiona touched his bare chest with her stethoscope and listened to his heart and lungs. He wouldn’t be able to hear her from under the helmet, but talking to him made the boy seem less like an animal. Every breath was a struggle for him. His body shook and his lips quivered. When she was done with her examination, she tossed the latex gloves into a sterilized waste receptacle and fixed her gaze on the uniformed guards.

  “Turn the lights off, please. Once I get this helmet off him, his eyes will be sensitive.”

  One of the guards flicked off the overhead lights while the other hit the switch for the lit table under Oliver. The only glow came from the corridor and shone through the small window on the security door. When she reached for his head gear, both guards exchanged looks and one of them stepped closer. She saw the tension in their bodies. They were ready for Oliver to fight.

  “I’ve given him a sedative, but if he becomes violent, I’ll need you to hold him down so I can give him something stronger.”

  In the shadowy room, Fiona took a deep breath before she made a move toward Oliver. When she unlatched the black helmet, the clasps let out a sigh of air as the seal broke. She removed the section over his nose so he could take his first full breaths.

  Oliver gulped air like a drowning man. When she got behind him, she pulled the helmet and goggles off his head and the boy writhed in pain and gagged. His eyes watered and tears streaked his face. He couldn’t stop blinking and an agonizing moan came from deep inside his chest. The haunting noise didn’t sound human, and the boy fought like a trapped and panicked animal.

  “Oliver, can you hear me?” She dared to reach for him and touch his cuffed arm. “Please stop. I can’t release you until you’re calm. It’s for your own safety.” She lowered her voice and muttered under her breath, “And mine.”

  The boy turned his head and shielded his eyes from the light. His tremors didn’t stop and neither did his miserable groan. He heard voices for the first time in weeks, and the sudden rush of his senses had to be overwhelming.

  Fiona knew she had to be his savior. If she wanted her plan to work, she had precious moments to become his lifeline back to the living. “Please let me help you. Are you cold?”

  He kept his face in the shadows, and his body quivered, but he didn’t answer her. She wasn’t sure that he could.

  “Keep your eyes closed. I know your vision must be blurry. Don’t fight it. Your sight will come back. I promise.” She stepped closer and stood at his side. “Are you thirsty? Can I get you some water?”

  Oliver fought his restraints as if he hadn’t heard her. Fiona took a risk and went to the small stainless sink in his quarters and poured water into a disposable cup. When she returned to him, she raised his head to help him drink. He didn’t refuse.

  “Only a little or you’ll get sick,” she said. After he took his last sip, she tossed the cup. “You must be cold. Let me see what I can do for you.”

  Fiona went to the sink again and came back with a bowl of warm soapy water and a sterilized towel. She drenched the cloth in the sudsy water and started on his cheeks with gentle strokes. Since he still wouldn’t turn toward the light, she moved into the shadows and leaned closer to him. She wanted her voice to be the only sound he heard.

  Fiona ran a warm, moist towel over his face and neck with her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Does this feel good?” she asked. “I imagine it’s hard for you to speak. That may take time.”

  After she brushed the damp cloth through his hair and dabbed his forehead dry with another towel, the boy opened his eyes.

  “There you are.” She lowered her chin to meet his gaze and she smiled. “You’re okay, Oliver. I’m here to help you.”

  The boy’s tremors slowed as she soothed his cold skin with warm water and wiped him dry. When she bathed his chest and arms, he didn’t resist the intimacy and his eyelids grew heavy. The sedative had done its job. While she had him in a twilight state, Fiona needed privacy with the boy.

  “I’ll be okay alone with him. Please leave us, but don’t go far,” she told the guards. “The sedative is working, but I may need you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  After the men left the room, Fiona was free to talk.

  “Oliver? You still with me?” She touched his cheek. “Don’t try to talk. Just listen. I need you to understand what’s happening.”

  She soaked the cloth again and gently ran it over his body. Oliver let her touch him without flinching. The boy was very weak. She saw that in his eyes and the way his atrophied muscles trembled. He looked like a junky in withdrawal. In his confused state, Fiona had to convince him that she cared what happened to him. He let her wash him, and that had been a good first step, but he had to trust and believe her.

  “You came to me. I saw you in my bedroom. Do you remember that, Oliver?”

  His jaw clenched, but he didn’t answer her.

  “It’s okay. You made me very happy when you did. I knew you’d be strong enough. You’re special, but it’s your friend Caila who’s got me worried. She won’t let me help her.”

  Fiona brushed back a strand of his damp hair and fixed her gaze on him.

  “What I’m about to say won’t be easy for me to tell you or admit, but I see no point in lying to you. Not now. Too much has happened and Caila’s future is at stake. It’s up to you and me, Oliver. We have to help her, even if she doesn’t want to get better. After I tell you the truth, you can decide. Are you willing to at least hear me out?”

  Even in his weakened state, Oliver Blue fixed his forceful eyes on her and stared for a long moment before he finally nodded and choked out his first words.

  “Yeah. Th-thanks...for h-helping...us.”

  Fiona smiled. “When this is all over, I’ll be the one thanking you, Oliver. Trust me.”

  Twenty minutes later

  Fio
na had rehearsed the lies she’d told Oliver, but she’d been surprised how adept she’d gotten at stretching minuscule facts into bombastic lies. The more Oliver bought into her charade, the more outlandish she got. She told him they’d taken Zack for testing and blamed Caila for the target on the boy’s back.

  “Yes, we took Zack, but I saw him leave the hospital.”

  She hadn’t completely lied about that. Part of Zack did leave the premises.

  “What he told us about Caila, I don’t blame him for not wanting to see her again.”

  She’d set the hook and Oliver took the bait by wanting to know more. She used his feelings for the girl against him.

  “Caila implants fake memories into people she touches. She makes them love her so they take care of her. I tested Zack through a brain scan, and with his help, we figured out what she did to him. That made him mad, but can you blame him? Did she touch you like that, Oliver? You may not remember what she did. That’s part of it too.”

  When he didn’t answer her, she knew the boy was gradually buying in to her manipulative version of the truth. That’s when Fiona laid it on thick. She told him that Caila had run away from a loving home and that her parents were still looking for her.

  “Yes, a very sad state of affairs,” she’d said. “She stole memories from other kids. I suppose she didn’t realize how harmful that would be to her.”

  Of course the boy had to know how stealing memories could harm Caila, and Fiona was quick with an explanation. She told him that the girl had simply lost track of her lies and her fake memories. She made him imagine how tragic that could be for Caila to fill her head with the lives of other people until she couldn’t remember what was real for her anymore. Fiona explained how memories were things people saw and that they shaped a person’s future. The best way to describe Caila was “an addict, jonesing for what other people had.” The girl needed psychiatric help. That’s why she had to be confined at Haven Hills.

  After the time they’d spent talking about the girl, Oliver finally got around to asking why he’d been taken. He choked on every word. He wasn’t used to using his voice. Fiona saw in his eyes that he’d grown to trust what she’d told him and that he was still listening to her, but she had to come up with a good reason for what she’d done to him to cinch the deal.

  “We had to take you because of Caila. We’ve been tracking her and anyone she crossed paths with. Her parents asked us to look for her, but once we saw what she was doing, we had to help those she touched, otherwise her abusive pattern would ruin their lives and crowd hers with false and confusing memories.” She touched his arm. “We had to isolate your mind to be certain she couldn’t reach you. That’s why we resorted to using sensory-deprivation technology. Her link had to be broken for your own good...and hers. Do you feel her now?”

  Oliver thought about it and eventually said, “I don’t know. I’m...tired. Can’t think.”

  “You must fight her pull on you, like Zack did. It got better for him, but I must admit that we had you in the headgear much longer. Her hold on you was stronger, I’m afraid.”

  Fiona saw how exhausted Oliver was. His hands shook and he winced in pain, even under sedation.

  “If I release you from these restraints, will you promise not to hurt me? I trust you, Oliver. I hope you have the same faith in me.”

  After the boy nodded, she undid the straps one by one, starting with his legs. When he was free, he rolled from the light and tried to stand, but collapsed to the floor when his muscles failed him. He crawled to the darkest corner of the room and huddled there, shaking. His mind and body were spent.

  “The muscle weakness is only temporary. It will take time to build your strength. I’ll help you with that, but there’s one thing that concerns me.” Fiona took a deep breath and knelt by his side, speaking to him in a soft voice. “Do you have feelings for this girl, Oliver? A girl you’ve only just met?”

  When he didn’t answer her, she made her case.

  “The first step to reclaim your life is acknowledging what she’s done to you. I know it will be hard,” she said. “It was for Zack too, but you can’t trust her. Poor thing, she doesn’t even know she’s lying anymore. Her gift takes over and she’s mentally too weak to fight it. Her condition will only get worse if we can’t help her break the pattern. Trust me. She needs to be here. I’ve seen cases like hers before.”

  Oliver looked pale and sick. He cowered in the corner unable to look her in the eye, but he surprised her when he said, “That helmet...did something...to me.”

  Fiona knew she had his trust when he openly admitted that his gift had changed, without her asking him about it. He’d confided in her willingly. A very good indication that she could push him for what she really wanted. “That came from you. Your psychic ability is really strong. I saw that on your brain scans. That’s why I need to ask your help to find someone. A boy. He’s someone else that Caila hurt, but he isn’t as forgiving as you and Zack.”

  Oliver turned his head toward her, but before he made the effort to ask her more questions and drain what little remained of his energy, she touched a finger to his lips and got him to stop.

  “You probably have questions about this boy and how you can help Caila, but I know you’re exhausted. Save your strength and don’t try to talk. I’ll fill you in on what I know about him.”

  She stroked his cheek to keep him under her control while she went on. “I don’t have the boy’s name. I’ve only seen him once on a blurry surveillance camera image, but he’s hiding from us. He’s the last one I need to find before I can send Caila home to her parents and the loving care she needs. Either he doesn’t believe we can help him break the hold Caila has on him or he doesn’t want to be free of her. Desperate, sad people sometimes cling to love, even the manipulative kind. But if we can find him, we can break the unhealthy bond they share. She’ll have the freedom to make new memories with her family and start over.”

  Oliver barely kept his eyes open, and his breathing settled into a normal rhythm. She kept touching him to force him to listen and to reinforce his trust in her.

  “We haven’t gotten close enough to talk to this boy. You might be our last chance at locating him.”

  It might have been easier for her to ask his help to find Lucas Darby. The church had more history on the Darby boy and could trace him through their facial recognition tracker system. But Fiona couldn’t resist looking for the “other” Crystal child—the mysterious boy who had been with Rayne Darby at the L.A. County Museum of Art reference library—the boy who had tried to steal a picture book in his knapsack. She had that book and one of his original sketches, something she’d held back from Alexander Reese after he gave her the order to keep her focus on Darby.

  If Oliver had used his gift to “see” what happened to Zack at the hamburger stand by simply holding something his friend had touched, he might glean vital intel from that library book and the sketch to give her a lead on a boy she believed to be more powerful than Lucas Darby.

  “Whatever you do to help us find this boy, you’ll have to earn his trust, even if it means lying to get close to him. He’s a cagey one, but I have faith in you, Oliver. I’ll guide you in your search so I can keep you safe. The sooner you help me, the sooner I can...release you. Nothing would please me more than you leaving this hospital the way Zack did.”

  Fiona fought to keep a smile off her face when she saw how much Oliver had bought into her story. Poor gullible Oliver, used and abused. She’d played his male jealousy strings with this mystery boy’s involvement with Caila and counted on his pathetic need to help the girl.

  “I knew you’d do the right thing, Oliver,” she whispered. “You’re a good guy. When you wake up, I’ll give you a way to find the boy.”

  After Oliver sank to the floor and shut his eyes, Fiona got a fresh blanket from a cabinet and covered him
. She’d have his help to find the nameless Crystal child—and her new motivated ally to track him would be one of them.

  Perfect.

  Downtown L.A.

  Dusk

  Gabriel crouched beside Rayne, Kendra and Lucas as they stared down a hill to an abandoned railroad tunnel. They had parked his uncle’s Lincoln Navigator at a safe distance and walked the rest of the way to a secluded location that brought back terrible memories for all of them.

  The Believers had staged their attack in this very spot, the night they killed Benny and destroyed their tunnel home.

  Kendra was adamant about starting their search for Rafe at the worst possible location, the one with the most danger, because that’s how Raphael would think. He didn’t care what happened to him anymore. Kendra had been right about the railroad entrance being the most dangerous.

  Gabriel felt a strong push, a warning sign that something wasn’t right.

  “If he came here, he was daring them to find him,” Gabe whispered to the others, but when he fixed his gaze on Kendra, he knew she felt the same. He saw it on her face.

  “Wait a minute. I see something shiny.” Rayne used Uncle Reginald’s binoculars to get a better look below. When she stopped moving, Gabe knew she had eyes on something.

  “My Harley. I see it.” She pointed through the trees. “Maybe Rafael tried to hide it, but I can see one of my mirrors and a handlebar.”

  “Rafe could still be inside,” Lucas said. “I can’t feel him, but maybe Kendra can do better. I can sense the Believers. They’re here and watching this place.”

  “Yeah, I feel ’em too. You got anything on Rafe, Kendra?” Gabe glanced over his shoulder at the Indigo healer. They all did.

  The worried look in her eyes said it all, but she shook her head and said, “No, nothing.”

  “Rafe may have hidden the Harley, but we gotta assume these men left the bike there as a trap, to draw us in,” Gabe told them. “That’s why they’re still here and hiding.”

  “I gotta know if Rafe is inside, even if he’s...dead,” Kendra said. When her eyes watered, she cleared her throat and wiped her face. “They got one man in the tunnels and two others are hiding near the Harley. How are we gonna get by ’em?”