by Rachel James
A faint draft of cool air suddenly caressed her face, and she swiveled her head towards the gust. She watched the wall transforming from plaster to plate glass. Looking through the glass, she caught sight of three religious paintings of Jesus Christ, and to their left, she saw a staircase trailing upward. To her right, there were two computer stations, two metal desks, and four wingback chairs. My God! She recognized the furniture pattern. She was in Green Arbor—in one of the designated therapy rooms, or was she? There was a cold composition to the air, as if she was below ground, not above.
The walls around her settled into place, opening up the room and making her squint under the sudden splurge of light. You’re nothing more than a lab rat in a chair, her inner voice taunted her. She heard the sound of a door opening behind her and knew Ned had finally condescended to show himself.
A second later, he appeared in front of her.
“I’m sorry it’s come to this, Sonny, but you gave me no choice. I’m tired of waiting for you to figure out what I’ve done and take action against me. It’s too bad, really. With your incredible talent, we could have owned half the world. In time, you may have even enjoyed sleeping with me.”
“The thought sickens me,” Sonny snarled.
His tone lightened, though his expression remained antagonistic. “I’ll have to be extra careful in programming you,” he mocked her. “But I promise you, when I’m done, you’ll enjoy having sex with me.” Stunned by the pronouncement, Sonny could only stare at Ned. A finger snapped in front of her face. “I want you to know that I had no idea your father knew about my late-night sessions with women. I have always been extremely careful in conducting the trysts. But he had the audacity to follow me to one of the sessions and then blackmail me with what he saw.”
“Daddy always was a good judge of character,” Sonny said. “You’re lucky, though. He didn’t kill you.”
“No, instead he realized stealing your skill was my end game. Thanks to his interference, I’ve had to push up my timetable.”
Sonny cleared her throat. It was time to put forth a bluff. “I hope you’ve done your homework on Pandora thoroughly, because I know I have. You see, Pandora can be reversed, with the right trigger. Thankfully I know it, and what I know, Logan Reed knows, which means he will be here on your doorstep before you have time to finish the mind transfer.”
Ned’s expression veered from annoyance to outright anger. “You won’t recognize him when he comes, though. I’ll see to that.”
The statement ignited a fire in Sonny’s belly. “Stop boring me, Ned. You don’t have anything to threaten me with. If by some miracle the procedure works, and I’m no longer Sonny Blake, I won’t recognize you, so any threats you make now are falling on deaf ears.”
Ned’s gaze softened. “You’ve got it backwards, Sonny. I don’t want to use the Pandora procedure on you; I have to. You need to see the darkness as I see it, and once you do, you’ll beg to move through it with me. With your ability to manipulate time and space, we’ll consummate the magic in both body and soul. I promise you, your new life will be incredibly rich, and every night when you lie down to sleep, you’ll thank me for sharing that richness.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Sonny asked.
“See for yourself,” Ned answered, stripping off Sonny’s gloves and pocketing them. He strode from the chamber, and Sonny congratulated herself on buying herself a few more minutes. Her fingers brushed the cold steel of the chair arms, and she was tossed into a familiar vortex. When the vision settled into focus, she was standing behind a glass window, watching a hypnotherapy session in progress.
The woman in the therapy chair was young, beautiful, and scantily clad. Her slim tank top barely contained her bulging breasts, and her short shorts could only be labeled as erotically indecent. A small, green headset protruded from her scalp, and her face glowed with an inner radiance. Beside her, Ned studied her face and figure. Overhead, his prerecorded voice took the woman through a series of mind scenarios.
“And where are you now?” his voice asked.
The young woman’s answer was a flat monotone. “I’m on a boat. Phil and I are sailing to Bermuda. The sky is blue, and the seas are calm. Phil is at the wheel, and it’s almost lunchtime—”
“And where are you now?” the voice suddenly asked.
“I’m having sex with Phil.” The young woman’s breathing changed.
Reacting, Ned stepped forward and slipped his hand beneath the young woman’s tank top. He fondled an unseen nipple, his eyes glued to the woman’s animated face.
“Phil’s a wonderful lover ... ” Ned’s hand shifted under the material. “He knows just where I like to be touched … Ohh … We’re climaxing now … Ohhhhh … ”
“And where are you now?
Ned’s fingers increased their fondling, but the woman in the chair remained oblivious to the stroking.
“I’m in the park with Phil. It’s Sunday. We always go to the park on Sunday. The kids are playing nearby, with our dog, Scruffy. We’ve brought a picnic lunch. We’ll stay until four … ”
“And where are you now?”
Ned’s fingers withdrew from the tank top, and with a quick jerk, he pulled the material down, exposing the woman’s breasts. The eager look flashing in his eyes hurled Sonny’s mind out of the vision and back to the real world.
She came back to reality with a jerk, hit by an electric shock that jolted her forehead. She was pitched backwards in the chair, and her eyes flew open. She knew exactly why Ned had stripped her of her gloves. He had wanted her to see firsthand what he intended for her. It was miles from Pandora’s original concept. He had reworked it for his own manic desires. No wonder he never came within ten feet of us, her inner voice advised. He was afraid we’d catch a glimpse of his aberrant behavior.
A second jolt of electricity sliced across Sonny’s forehead. To her relief, God was kind. She lost consciousness immediately.
• • •
Logan whipped through the front door, barreling towards the green door ahead of them. It had been a long drive to Serenity—the longest of his life. And now, he was facing the longest minute of his life, praying that he’d find Sonny alive on the other side of the door. He raced across the tiles, thrown off guard when he saw the door had no keyhole. Behind him, he heard a familiar growl.
“Have we guessed wrong?” the lieutenant asked.
Brad snatched the key out of Logan’s hand and placed it in a slot beneath a matching green jewel carved into the archway. He spun the key, waiting for the tumblers to roll. When they didn’t, he glanced at Logan.
“Give it time,” Logan countered. “If I’ve learned anything from Sonny, it’s that Spirit shows a way when there appears to be no way.” He stepped forward, twisting the key back to its original position. It popped back upright.
“If you’re wrong, Reed,” the lieutenant said, “I’ll see that you never work in law enforcement ever again.”
“Ditto,” Brad added.
Lifting his hands, Logan silenced the men. As if by magic, Sonny’s voice filtered through his mind. One plus one equals two. Nothing is random. He spun the key to the right again, and then listened carefully for the tumblers to roll. A second later, they did. The door sliced open in front them, revealing a staircase. Sonny was right. Spirit was always on duty. It was sending them deep into the bowels of the earth. He stepped forward, feeling a tug on his sleeve.
“Let me go first,” the lieutenant said. “You’re in no shape to be making any rational decisions. If we find Ned down there, you’ll probably shoot first and ask questions later.”
“I have no intention of shooting him,” Logan responded. “I might strangle him, but either way, I’m going down these steps first.”
“You’re a fucking prick, Reed,” Cutter said.
“Right back at ya,” Logan said, withdrawing his pistol from his waistband. He took the first steps down; however, when he and Cutter reached the bottom steps, they
found a long tunnel stretching before them.
The lieutenant quickly drew his pistol. “This adventure is getting too damn creepy,” he stated.
“Yes, and neither of us brought a coin to pay the ferry master,” Logan quipped.
“I’d ask you to explain that,” Cutter whispered, as they stepped off the staircase and entered the tunnel, “but my instincts tell me it’s some spiritual proverb you learned from Sonny.”
Reaching out, Logan felt the wall beside him. He began tracing its length. Behind him, the lieutenant did the same. The trio headed off, following the wall to keep their bearings, and as they moved, Logan prayed the end of the tunnel wouldn’t be the end of his relationship with Sonny.
• • •
Sonny felt a faint tingling along her scalp and stirred. Who was interrupting her dreams? Her eyes shot open, and she blinked rapidly to bring her surroundings into focus. As her vision cleared, she was hit with a reflection of herself strapped to a chair. Her brain came awake at once. You’re still Sonny Blake.
Beyond the reflection, she saw Ned seated at a console station and wondered why she still knew who she was. Had something gone wrong with the mind transfer? That had to be it. The mind zaps had been excruciating, leaving her body engulfed in a raging fire. Another two or three doses of that kind of punishment and she would beg to be somebody else—anything to stop the pain.
She heard a crackle in her ears, and Ned’s voice came online.
“You can stop this, Sonny. Just say the word. You can remain Sonny Blake and share the darkness with me. I can tweak only some of your memories rather than all of them. I can reprogram you as my wife. We’ll go underground, to a place in Mexico. The choice is up to you.”
“Go to hell, Ned,” Sonny spat. She saw movement beyond the window and felt a light tingling along her scalp. Ned had started the process again. A myriad of sensations whipped through her mind, followed by a set of multiple thought patterns ebbing in and out of clarity. Behind her eyes, she felt a vague stirring and wondered whether it was possible to sabotage the transfer.
The image of a poster flashed across her mind, and she grasped on to the image. Right. Twilight Zone. She recalled the episode she had once seen during a Syfy marathon on TV. The frightened subject of a mind experiment had implanted a code word in his subconscious that, once triggered, totally reversed the mind alteration. Could she do the same? She found herself suddenly smiling. It would be a kick if she could.
She felt a delicious euphoria steal over her body as she felt the chair fall back. What word could she use as a code word? Her brain threw up a name. Logan? Not a common enough name. She could wait eons to hear that name.
Mouse? Perfect.
She sent the word into her ebbing thoughts. When you hear the word ‘mouse,’ you’ll remember everything. You’ll have Sonny Blake’s life back again, and everything will be as it was.
Sonny closed her eyes and began drifting down a wide, pain-filled rabbit hole.
“Good-bye, Sonny.”
“Good-bye, Ned,” she whispered softly.
• • •
With a tightly clenched jaw, Logan halted before another door without a keyhole. He studied the seams of the door, noting a pinprick of light peeking through. It would take thirty seconds to open the door, and for once in his life, Logan asked God to grant him a favor that didn’t center on his own ego. He just wanted to be in time.
He turned the knob, and finding it unlocked, he pushed the door open. To his surprise, he found another set of steps leading down. Now they really were descending into the bowels of hell. He heard the lieutenant’s footsteps hitting the steps behind him, while up ahead, he could hear a distant thrumming.
When he reached the bottom of the steps, a blazing stream of light blinded him. Logan shaded his eyes. They were in a small laboratory filled with computers. Logan’s intuition kicked in, and he raised his revolver, searching for a sign of Sonny. Alongside him, the lieutenant’s gun came up.
The pair made their way further into the room and then halted at the sight of a handgun pointed in their direction. Reflexes flaring, both Logan and the lieutenant aimed their weapons at the same time.
“Don’t be a fool, Ned,” the lieutenant warned. “You won’t get both of us.”
A wry smile cracked Ned’s lips, and he pulled the hammer back on the revolver. His gaze never left theirs as he moved his free hand and dangled it over a red flashing light on the console beside him. Very slowly, he let his fingers slide onto the gun’s trigger.
In that moment, Logan knew Ned would pull the trigger and press the button at the same time. A quick look to his right and Logan saw what he was guarding so fiercely. The Pandora process was underway, and Ned had every intention of seeing it finished before he died. And now that he was cornered, he did intend to die.
Seeing Logan’s bright stare, Ned’s smile widened. “If I can’t have her powers, no one else will. So the burning question is which one of us will pull the trigger first?”
Logan didn’t have to think twice about the answer.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The blowback of the gunshot rang in Logan’s ears and caused his eyes to water. Ned stumbled back, clutching the console desk to keep from going down under the impact of the bullet ripping through his left side.
Seeing the stumble, the lieutenant dove forward, wrestling the gun from his fingers. Logan heard a muttered growl as he watched the ensuing scuffle and Ned’s collapse to the floor. The lieutenant hovered over his body.
“Jesus, Reed! That was one hell of a shot. I thought you meant to kill him.”
Logan studied the red stain seeping from Ned’s shirtfront. “You mean I didn’t?” he asked sarcastically.
“No, but you’ve wounded him to the max,” Cutter said, bending over and lifting Ned’s shirt.
“Killing him would surely kill Sonny,” Logan stated.
“Sonny!”
Beside him, Brad Fletcher bolted around the glass partition. In seconds, Logan had rounded the window with him. Reaching the table, he stuffed his revolver into his waistband and ripped the headset from Sonny’s scalp. Grabbing her neck, he shook her roughly.
“Sonny! Can you hear me?” She remained motionless under his clamped fingers, and he gave her body another vicious shake. Her mind was as far away from reality as the moon was to the earth, and he didn’t have a clue of how to bring her back to him. “Fight, Sonny. Fight your way back to the present. You do it all the time.” He waited for a response, a tic, a twitch, but nothing came. Her eyelids remained closed, her body a limp rag doll in his arms.
At that moment, Logan experienced true panic, a cramping in his stomach that nearly doubled him over. Not even when he had found himself face down in the gutter, his blood staining the cracks of the pavement, had he given into a sense of panic this great. Now, his heart was pounding, and his blood was turning to ice. If Sonny woke and didn’t recognize him, or any part of her old life, he’d never forgive himself. No, she had a pulse—thready, but there. And if she didn’t wake?
Stampeded by the thought, he gave her shoulders another shake. “Sonny!”
“Bloody hell, Reed! Are you trying to shake her teeth loose?” Brad snarled. “Step back or you’ll kill her for sure!”
The demand burned Logan’s ears, and slim fingers hauled him back from the reclining chair. Logan balked at the manhandling, yet gave way as Brad stepped around him and took command. A second later, Logan found himself caught up in the blatant efficiency of the man.
Brad lifted Sonny’s right eyelid and checked her pupils. At the same time, his fingers grasped her right wrist and began monitoring her pulse. His stilted call to her was a trifle softer than Logan’s.
“It’s Uncle Brad, Sonny; focus on my voice.” He brushed her cheekbone, and Logan felt his throat constrict at the caress. Time was running out. “Come back, Sonny,” Brad demanded. He paused, waiting for a response, and Logan was surprised to see an amazed look cross his face as he drop
ped her wrist and turned from the recliner. Had he convinced himself Sonny would respond to his voice and no other?
Blocking out Brad’s stricken expression, Logan brought his mind from the emotional back to the rational. Sonny wasn’t going to waken, at least not without major medical help. The important thing now was to get her that help. He motioned to Brad.
“You conduct sessions like this every day, Fletcher. Can’t you reverse the programming, or at least slow it down?”
“Not without a trigger word, I can’t. If Ned used one, there’s no telling what it was.” He motioned to the window. “Does he look like a man who’d give up that information? He’ll die first.”
Logan agreed, but not aloud. Instead, he signaled through the window to the lieutenant, who immediately took out his phone.
“Code blue, Daniel Six,” he ordered through the mouthpiece. “I repeat, I need Trauma Hawk at Green Arbor stat. Code blue, code blue.”
The call was relayed quickly, and Logan’s gaze lit on the sea of bodies suddenly cluttering the stairwell. Where the hell had all the backup come from? Crime-scene crowds interfered with investigations and made his job of ferreting out secrets almost impossible.
His gaze finally settled on the lieutenant’s imposing form, and his expression soured even more. If he thought his mood was black, it was nothing to the fractured scowl staining the lieutenant’s face. He still held his hand over Ned’s bleeding wound, but he was barking orders at breakneck speed. Bodies left and came back, only to be sent off again.
Realizing he stood no chance of conversing privately with the lieutenant, Logan’s gaze shifted to the man on the floor. A female officer suddenly blocked his view as she fell to her knees beside Ned and offered the lieutenant assistance in staunching the flow of blood. Ned remained unconscious at her probing, and even though a sheet of glass separated them, Logan could see a scowl etched on Ned’s face. Was the bastard worried he hadn’t finished the job? Logan’s mind elaborated the thought. Had something gone wrong with the transfer … or had something gone right? It didn’t take long for the hairs on the back of his neck to prickle, a sure sign he had hit on something.