Arnie then offered: “If they know our every move before we make it, it stands to reason that someone is providing them information, either wittingly or unwittingly. For example, and please don’t take offense, Pasquale, but The Master has used him as a vessel for communication on a couple of occasions. It could be that he is somehow spying on us through Pasquale without his knowledge.”
Pasquale hung his head sadly. “I was afraid of this, my friends. If this terrible person is using me, you must send me away. You can’t take the chance, friend Ferdie. I will not be the reason for more losses. I have an idea: we have discussed what to do with regards to Ling’s car. It is still in New Mexico, where Denise left it when the Divide and Conquer was happening. I will go to recover it. This will take a few days, and you can try another plan while I am gone. If this Master is using me, he will be unhappy because I will not be here to know what the plan is, and if he is not using me, but someone else instead, then you will know. Either way, you get the answer. Does this seem like a good plan?”
“Well, let’s think through this. He always seems to know what we’re going to do, that much is true. It’s possible that he could be using Pasquale for that. On the other hand, he knew what we were doing before we ever met Pasquale, so I don’t think it’s that likely, unless he’s using Pasquale in addition to someone or something else. I don’t know… do any of you have any ideas?”
Arnie cleared his throat. “I think what you said is correct, as far as it goes. Stay with me here and see if this seems possible. Our friend Marshall is what people would commonly call a ghost, and while he waits on the Good Line side of the in-between, he can, if he tries, hear and see what we are doing and saying. I think you see where I’m going with this… it could be that The Others have a similar ghost in the Bad Lineside of the in-between, and that ghost could potentially be watching and listening just as Marshall can. I think it’s unlikely that he is tracking us through Pasquale, even though I suggested it. On the other hand, we do need to recover Ling’s car, and we could be sure if we sent Pasquale after it.”
“Hmm… that seems totally possible; I hadn’t thought of it. I’ve been on the Bad Line side a couple of times, though, and I didn’t see any ghosts. On the other hand, I wasn’t looking for any either. Anyone else have any thoughts?”
After a few moments, Aida raised her hand, then looked at it thoughtfully. “For the longest time I had no control over this arm… thank you, Ferdie. I know you put me in that condition in the first place, but I don’t blame you. As you said, you were protecting your friends. But this… I never thought I would be normal again. That wasn’t what I wanted to say, though. The Master was always secretive, and didn’t tell us, or at least didn’t tell me, how he knew where you were and what you were planning. He really only kept Lucky and me close to him. The rest of the group you call The Others was kept at a distance, kind of like employees, or maybe more like slaves. Or, hypnotized. I don’t think he can control other people with supernatural abilities like you can, so he has done something else to them to get them to follow him without question.”
It’s so weird… her personality seems totally different now compared to when we first nabbed her… Marsh told me that would happen, but this is strange… she even talks different, uses different words… I don’t know if I don’t trust her, or if it’s my hypervigilance talking… I could find out for sure, but should I? I guess in the big scheme of things I should make sure… if I don’t it could cost us everything… I’ll just ask her if she will let me check… if she says no, I’ll have my answer, and if she says yes, I’ll still have my answer…
Then, as if she was reading my mind, Ling chimed in. “Ferdie, there is another thing possible. My apologies to Aida, but could it be true that she is now fooling us? She seems… what is the word… sincere? Yes, that is right… Still, how would we know what is the real Aida? The one answer is to have you look in on her mind. No one else could do this, Ferdie. I think doing this will make you unhappy—no, uncomfortable, but it is only the way to know.”
As Ling spoke, a slow smile spread on Aida’s face. “I don’t take offense at all, and to tell you the truth I think you would be foolish not to check me out. In fact, I was wondering why you didn’t do it when you were in there working on me. For all you know I could be relaying this whole thing to The Master. I’m not, but you don’t know that unless you check. I’m good, Ferdie, you can check me.”
Well, there’s your answer… you should check anyway, just to satisfy the rest of the group… “There’s one thing I can tell you, even guarantee you. I will never go in your mind unless it’s one of two situations: it’s either a life-or-death kind of emergency, or if I ask you and you give me permission. Otherwise I won’t do it. Of course, you’ll just have to trust me on that. You should know that the same guarantee does not extend to normal people. I will check them every once in a while just to make sure we’re safe, just like you or Ling might, but I’m giving you this guarantee, and the same goes to everyone else here.”
Arnie patted me on the back, saying, “I think we all know that, Ferdie. We never even gave it a thought.”
That made me a tiny bit emotional, but I got it under control fast, and said, “Ok, I’m ready if you are, Aida.”
She smiled again, and said, “Go ahead, I’m ready too.”
“Ok, here we go.” As always, I went down the hall in my mind, found Aida’s door, and went in…
Chapter Eleven
The last thing I remember while in Aida’s mind was getting repeatedly bombarded by energy bolts before I had a chance to react. Over and over, so fast that I couldn’t retreat, and I couldn’t get out. There were too many to dodge…
I’ll tell you the part that comes next, but I’m telling it based on what my friends described, because I was unconscious through most of it.
Denise, who always watches me closely, immediately noticed that something was amiss. I began shaking, then convulsing, and she picked me up, running from the room with me over her shoulder. The rest of the group stood stunned, staring at one another with mouths agape, but then came Aida’s cackling laughter. “Fools! Placing your hopes in a stupid fifteen-year-old altruist! So much for The Late Great Ferdie—thanks for fixing me, dead boy!” And just like that, she disappeared into the in-between. Before anyone else had a chance to react, Ling, of all people, went after her. A moment later, Ling popped back out of the in-between, her arm wrapped around Aida’s neck, squeezing so hard that her face was beet red and she was gasping for breath. She wrestled Aida to the floor, still throttling her with all her strength. “Stay back!” Ling cried, tears of rage flowing down her cheeks.
The rest of the group froze, shocked into momentary inaction by what they were witnessing. “Ling! Stop, you’ll kill her!” shouted Arnie.
“Don’t touch her! She is mine! I must make her to pay!” screamed Ling, changing her grip to increase the pressure on Aida’s throat. She was straddling Aida’s chest now, both hands in a death grip on her windpipe. Suddenly, Pasquale went limp, followed quickly by him shuffling forward toward Ling’s back.
“She’s trying to control him to stop Ling! Rafael, Martha, get out… find Denise and help her with Ferdie, NOW!” Arnie roared as he sprang into action, tackling Pasquale to the floor. He flicked Pasquale in the temple with his index finger, and he crumpled into the corner of the little room, out cold. Rafael and Aunt Martha quickly exited as Arnie approached Ling, saying quietly, “Ease up, Ling, ease up. You’re not a killer. Ling, she deserves it, but you don’t need this on your conscience. Ling, let go.”
“No! No, I must… I must…” and Ling fell into a sobbing heap next to Aida, who was now coughing and gasping, attempting vainly to catch her breath.
Arnie strode forward, stood over Aida, and snarled, “Ling doesn’t need this on her conscience, but I can deal with having it on mine.” He reached down, placing a thumb on one side of Aida’s neck, his forefinger on the other, and tweaked her throat to the left, sn
apping her neck like a chicken bone. Ling, still sobbing uncontrollably, stared at Arnie, and he returned her gaze sadly. “I’m sorry to take that from you, Ling, but you are too good to have a piece of trash like her remove your innocence. I’ll be right back.”
Arnie snatched up Aida’s now very dead body, threw her over his shoulder, and faded into the bad-line side of the in-between. Immediately he felt the unbearable heat coming from the bad-line universe, and his nostrils were burned by the unimaginable stench of the red-tinted space. He lifted Aida’s body over his head and flung her with all his might at the bad line, and she quickly picked up speed, soon streaking out to join in a group with two others. Three and a space, three and a space, over and over, on and on, seemingly forever.
“We are coming for you, “Master”. If you’ve done any damage to Ferdie, I will personally make you pay for what you have done. I will make you pay,” Arnie growled, his teeth clenched tight and his voice barely above a whisper. He waited a good five minutes, hoping that one of The Others would show up to check on Aida, but finally tired of the sweltering heat and noxious fumes and faded out of the in-between into the little bedroom of the RV. Ling was waiting with Pasquale, who had regained consciousness. Now in control of her emotions, Ling asked, “Is she done?”
“Yes, she’s good and done. I’m sorry, Pasquale, I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.”
Sorrow seemed to have consumed Pasquale. His long, wavy, raven hair hung across his eyes, but did not obscure the knot that was rising near his right temple. “I don’t know what to say or do, my friends. The Others, they keep using me to hurt our group. I must leave, I must. I cannot be, what is word… responsible for more problems. I cannot return to my old home, it is not there now anyway. I am sorry to fail you, Arnie, Ling.”
“I understand how you feel, Pasquale. I let lots of people down in my prior life. But you haven’t done anything. They have taken advantage of you, that’s all. It may be best for you to leave us for a while, but only because I fear they may kill you at some point if you continue to aid us. That’s why they are using you, Pasquale. It’s because they know how valuable you have been to us and they are trying to divide and weaken us. Don’t worry about it for now. We will talk about it as a group once we have our current situation under control. Speaking of which, I’m sorry, Ling. I didn’t want to take that from you, but…”
“No, you were right Arnie, and I must thank you. I would have killed her, but I am to be afraid that it would have made some effect on me. She did deserve it. The time will come when I will have to do it, but you stopped me from wasting it on her. Thank you, thank you.”
Arnie grimaced. “I may pay for it in the end, but I at least know what I’m getting into. Come on, let’s go see how Ferdie’s doing.”
They zipped to the other end of the RV to find Rafael pacing anxiously outside the accordion door to the other small bedroom. The crestfallen look on his face told them that things were not well. “He is unconscious, my friends. We have tried to revive him, but no success thus far. His blood pressure and heart rate have fluctuated wildly, but at the moment are very low. He appears to be in a coma. I am sorry, that is all I know right now.”
Arnie, Ling, and Pasquale made brief eye contact, and Arnie said, with just a touch of menace in his voice, “We need to go in and see him.”
“The room is small and very crowded…”
“We need to see him NOW! Step aside,” Arnie barked. He then softened a bit, saying “I’m sorry, Rafael. You don’t know all that we’ve just been through, but I can tell you emotions are high right now. We need to see him, to make sure we do what we can for him.”
“Of course, Mr. Arnie. My apologies; we have all been through quite a lot on this day, with more to come, I’m afraid. Here, allow me to get the door for you.”
Rafael opened the accordion door, and Arnie and Ling stepped into the room while Pasquale looked on from just outside. Upon seeing me, Ling took Arnie’s hand, clutching it tightly. Denise was kneeling next to the single bed, smoothing my hair, while Aunt Martha checked my heart rate. I must have been quite a sight; my shirt was covered with blood, as I had bit my tongue and lower lip during my convulsions, and they described me as white as a ghost, which I know Marsh-dog would have found deeply ironic. I was alternately sweating profusely and shivering as if freezing, but otherwise had no apparent injuries.
Arnie spoke first. “Has he regained consciousness at all, even just for a moment?”
Without looking up, Aunt Martha, adopting a professional, dispassionate voice, said, “No. I think we are in a critical moment, and we need to keep him as calm and comfortable as possible for the time being. I believe he is in a coma, secondary to brain trauma. Of course, we have no method for verifying such a preliminary diagnosis…” then her composure broke momentarily, and she waited for the emotions to pass. She cleared her throat, continuing, “My instinct, as a hospital administrator, is to take him immediately for professional care. I will need you all to either stop me or talk me out of it, which will not be easy.”
The group was quiet for a moment, which allowed me the time to realize that I heard what they were saying. I can’t open my eyes, can’t move, can’t speak, but I can hear at least some things… I wonder if this is what being in a coma is like for other people… this is weird… it’s kind of like those times where you fake being asleep, but I’m not faking… there’s something wrong with my brain, something is disconnected, I can feel it… I hate being stupid, but I just walked right in to that trap with my chin stuck out like a kitchen drawer like my dad used to say, and the rest of the group went right along with me… they trust me, they think I know what I’m doing… I have to admit, it was a pretty good trick that she pulled, although I can’t figure out how she did it… or that The Master and Lucky pulled, whichever the case may be… I got blasted good, I couldn’t react or anything… that wasn’t her blasting me, she’s not powerful enough… I could have defended myself against her… that means that The Master had to be doing it, or maybe it was her and The Master and Lucky all at the same time, but how? Can he get in the minds of other supernaturals too, and if so, how is he doing it? There’s something strange going on there… … if I’d had even an instant, I could have fought him, or them… I wonder why I’m not dead… I kind of wished I was dead while they were unloading on me… I wonder if they think I’m dead… so I can’t move or speak or anything, but I wonder if I can still communicate “mind to mind”… I would try with Pasquale, but he’s been abused enough… I’ll try with Denise, let’s see what happens… ok, walking down the hall in my mind, there’s her door… uh-oh, I can’t get it open… I guess that answers my question… I’m totally disconnected… I wonder how long this will last… Aunt Martha wants to take me to a hospital, but that’s not a good idea… it’ll put everyone there at risk… talk her out of it… I wonder how long I’ll stay conscious like this, if that’s what you call it… I wonder if Marsh knows what’s going on… of course he does, he’s always watching… come on, Arnie, someone, talk her out of taking me… oh, no, I think I’m going under…
Arnie sat next to Aunt Martha, and as he put a hand on her shoulder she turned, making eye contact. “Look, Martha, I think we all understand your instinct in this moment, and under any other circumstance I would take him there myself. But he was just attacked by supernatural beings that have made it very evident that they will stop at nothing. He and our little group are the only things that have kept them from wholesale slaughter. If we take Ferdie to a hospital we are placing everyone there at great risk. We can’t take the chance. We need to watch him, keep him comfortable, apply whatever care we can for him here, and I will consult with Marshall to see if there is anything that he observed that may aid us to help Ferdie recover. Really, we just can’t take the chance. You see that, don’t you?”
A tear fell down from Aunt Martha’s cheek onto the bed sheet, and she quickly wiped it away. “This is my nephew, do you understand? We can’t
lose him, I can’t lose him. He may be one of these “supernatural beings”, but he’s still a kid. I would like to see him become an adult one of these days.”
“I understand, but he doesn’t seem to be in any immediate jeopardy. We have some medical supplies, and if we need to we can go into Mojave or maybe Lancaster and get more. Allow me some time to see what Marshall and I can do.”
“Ok, but please hurry. He may be deteriorating as time goes by.”
Chapter Twelve
Arnie tuned in to the vibration and in a moment was standing in the in-between. Of course, Marsh-dog was waiting there for him, floating and glowing. “You can’t take him to a hospital, dude. Sorry, I know, don’t call you dude. You’re exactly right, though, it would put everyone there at risk. That’s the reason we came out here to the middle of the desert in the first place, right?”
“Marshall, why are you glowing like that?”
Arnie hadn’t been in the in-between to see Marsh-dog in a while, so he didn’t know about his continued enhancement by the Time Flies. “Ah, it’s just what happens when you get mixed up with Ol’ Flashy and his buddies. Speaking of which, you gotta bring him in here. We can keep him safe, and I might be able to talk the Time Flies into helping out. They are super curious about the way things are turning out, because what is happening totally blows up the time line they’ve seen going forward in time. They’re not sure what to make of it, and of course that’s interesting and engaging for them, because there’s not a whole lot they don’t know. And they’re extra interested in ‘Nando. They want to see how things play out in real time, and that’s a new experience to those dudes. Those guys. Those aliens. Sorry, I have a hard time not using the word dude.”
Ferdie and The Seven: Book three: Fractals Page 9