When she woke, her jaw hurt, which meant she’d been grinding her teeth. It signaled a long sleep.
She slipped off the cot, frantically pulling her hair back with the hair tie she always kept on her wrist. As she rushed to brush her teeth with the spare toothbrush she kept in her locker, and wash her face, she glanced at her phone, which now only served as a way to check the time and date.
Seven a.m. She’d slept the rest of the afternoon and night. Next to her phone was a note in Shelia’s handwriting. You needed it. It’s been quiet.
She hurried out into the lounge, quickly glancing at the back of a man leaning against the frame of one of the windows being hammered by the storm outside. Even the plywood nailed up outside was thumping like someone was pounding on it. It must be calmer inside, though, if Dr. Wraf was taking a break.
“You guys shouldn’t have let me sleep that long—”
Jane looked back quickly, realizing Dr. Wraf never wore a ball cap.
When the man turned from the window, she reached over and pinched her hand. You’re still asleep. You’re still asleep.
“I didn’t want to wake you,” the man said hesitantly. “I figured seeing my face after being asleep might make … things … even stranger.”
William Chance looked much older than she’d seen in her dreams. Certainly he’d aged from how he’d looked on the poster board of cut-out pictures that Julie, her best friend from high school, once hung in her bedroom. She’d tacked him alongside that guy from the Disney musical. She distinctly remembered Julie searching all the teen magazines and online websites for a picture of him smiling, but she could never find one. He clearly didn’t like having his photo taken.
“You can’t be in here.” It was all she could manage to say.
He exhaled, leaning on a table. “Probably not. But security is pretty light.”
She suddenly snapped into clarity. She’d seen him on the news before the power went out. He was on the run for some reason. He’d been kidnapped, right? By some kind of fanatics. It explained why he’d appeared again in her dreams. The subconscious mind was a powerful thing.
“Do you need help?” she asked. “I saw … you’ve been in trouble, right? I don’t know how you ended up here, but there are still police in town—”
He shook his head. “No. I’m … as fine as I can be. I came here to try and find you.”
Don’t say that. God, don’t say that.
“I know this is really strange. But I know you. And I think you know me.”
“The whole world knows you,” Jane said, trying to keep her voice in a calm, detached, doctor tone. “I’ll ask again, are you in need of help? The last I saw, you were … kidnapped? Are you safe?”
“None of us are safe. That’s why I’m here. I know you, but I don’t even know your name.”
Jane took a small step backwards. She’d had her fair share of mentally ill patients. There was certainly strong speculation that a young man who vanished and then reappeared in a violent confrontation with law enforcement might be dangerously off balance.
“Why don’t you take a seat, Mr. Chance. You’ve obviously been through a lot, and it could do you some good to get a thorough examination. Are you on any medication I need to know about?”
He rested his hands on his hips, his shoulders broadening, the vein in his neck rising.
“Listen, please know this is as weird for me as it is for you.”
“I seriously doubt that.”
“I didn’t think I could find you. I couldn’t, actually, until a few hours ago. I still don’t truly understand how. But I did. And … I know you’ve seen me in your dreams. Just like I’ve seen your eyes and, eventually, your face. It’s how I found you. We don’t have a lot of time because that storm out there is getting worse. I assume you had a moment, maybe about a year ago, where you have a block of time that you don’t remember. Am I right?”
She flinched. “How do you know that?”
He took a hesitant step towards her. “I don’t know how to even start having this conversation with you. Something happened to you that you don’t remember. The same thing happened to me, a long time ago. What you need to know is that … you’re causing the hurricanes. And I’m the one who is making you do it.”
Run. Run now. This guy is insane.
Jane bolted. As she darted across the room, she realized she misjudged the distance between them.
“Wait,” he said, reaching out, taking her arm.
The jolt was so strong she felt the room tilt. For a moment, all she could see was the storm blowing in from the gulf. It was all around her, ripping and tearing at her and everything in its path—
She yanked her arm back. “You need to step back,” she stammered.
William looked as stunned as she. He held up his hand, examining his fingertips.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you need to stay the hell back—”
Something smashed against the windows outside—a limb, or perhaps a piece of a nearby house. The howling was shockingly loud, and more debris began to crash outside.
He continued to look at his hands, his voice low. “That’s it. How I can stop Lily.”
He raised his head. “Give me your hand. You can stop this. We can stop this. People are going to die if we don’t—”
The battering against the window was so intense, even the hurricane-readied glass began to crack. The walls and floors shook.
William rushed forward and grabbed both her arms. She began to fight back, when she found she could not wrest her eyes from his. She was unable to even blink.
The glass shattered as the storm roared in.
THIRTEEN
The men in suits were waiting for her outside the Oval Office. They stood at attention as she exited, their director towering over them.
“Senator—”
Kate kept walking. “Give me a moment, Director Wolve,” she said, heading out into the hallway.
The Secret Service agents eyed them cautiously as they strode past. As they walked into the adjoining hallway, she stopped.
“The president made it clear we were to discuss this only in private. Is your car waiting?”
“It is,” he said.
As they brushed through the West Wing, one of the SSA agents quietly called to have the car pulled around. They went out a set of double doors to a private exit, where the Secret Service was sweeping their vehicle. Kate could hear the tapping of the director’s shoes as they waited for the nod of approval to enter.
As they slid into the backseat, he turned to her. “Is he on board?”
“He is frustrated, he is angry, he is not one hundred percent sold, but yes,” she said.
“How much does he know? You were only in there for an hour—”
“He is still poring over everything.”
“Should you have left—?”
“I would have loved to have stayed. But I have yet another crisis on my hands, thanks to the inability of your men to keep my mother safely protected.”
“I’ve already explained—”
“You were the one who convinced me that she was some sort of danger to people! I had my own mother practically arrested and quarantined—”
“As we’ve explained, if all of the abducted are being activated, then at some point, she will be too. You’ve seen what they can do. We have no idea what she is capable of doing.”
“And yet my little sister was able to lead a parade of reporters in and waltz her right out?”
He sighed, silencing his phone buzzing in his suit coat. “Frankly, we never anticipated what your sister had in store.”
“My sister Stella is a journalist, Mark. Have you met many? They are resourceful and, even more, they are relentless. She knew the last thing you’d expect was a press conference at your front door. What matters is they have to be found. She is my mother, for God sake. I want her and my sister safe, regardless of how pissed off I am. And Jesus Christ, where is my nephew?�
��
“We’ll find them all. We just needed more men, which is why the president had to get on board. The National Guard—”
“I had that authorized days ago. They’ve already mobilized in California and North Dakota. They’re obviously already in Louisiana, but how you intend to find one person in a state besieged by hurricanes is beyond me. As much as I hate the fact that you have a child trapped miles beneath the earth, at least the streets of DC don’t have to become a military zone.”
His phone rang again, and he handed it to one of the agents in the front seat. “Can you see what Agent Lucas wants? He’s called five times. OK, Senator, this is important: You believe that the president understands the seriousness of this now?”
Kate scrolled through the mountain of texts on her own phone. Her communications director had also called repeatedly. Everyone wanted her response to her sister’s claims that the government was holding their mother hostage.
Once again, her mother was telling the truth.
“Convincing a sixty-eight-year-old former marine that people are being abducted and returned to earth as weapons is not an easy sell, Director. Which is why you incorporated me in this, knowing that if I believe it, then the president will too. I understand how you think I’m your pawn in all this. But I can promise you this,” she said, raising a finger. “I went into that boy’s room on my own. It was my life that was in danger. But I did it of my volition.”
She’d never been more terrified in her life. Ryan had told her that her nephew had been dreaming, that the violence was about to start. She’d slipped out to find the agents stationed outside choking each other. As she’d hurried by, one of them sprang after her, his eyes wild. She’d reached the elevator, the doors barely shutting to keep him from following. He’d pounded on the doors and screamed like an enraged animal.
“The president saw the video of what happened in that hallway,” she said softly.
“Agent Hallow warned you for a reason—”
“Director, I’m sorry, you need to take this.” The agent in the front seat handed him the phone.
“Rick, just find out—”
“Director, it’s about the boy. He wants to talk to the senator.”
“What?” Kate sat forward.
“Agent Lucas?” Mark put the phone to his ear. “What’s going on?”
Kate watched as the director shook his head. “No way is she going back down there. Not after what happened.”
“What’s going on?” Kate asked.
She watched as the director’s eyes widened a bit. He nodded. “Agent, hold on. Senator, Ryan says your nephew has found another of the abducted.”
“How does he know this?” she demanded.
“He says he’s seen them.”
“Does he know where they are?” she asked.
“He says he does, but in exchange for that information, he wants you to go with him to San Diego,” Mark said, not hiding his frustration. “I don’t know what this means, but he’d like Iron Man to give him the tour.”
* * *
Jane knew she should be dead.
She’d heard the glass shatter, felt the weight of the hurricane winds, saw the chunks of wood and metal fly through to pummel and slice her and William Chance apart.
She’d shut her eyes instinctively, bracing herself.
Instead, the southernmost wall, on the other side of the room, shuddered with the impact. The plaster wall of the old hospital cracked like an eggshell, exposing the wood studs and insulation, until it too was torn apart by shards of splintered plywood, rock, and whatever else the winds carried.
Yet she and William remained untouched, as was everything behind them, even though they were directly across from the windows that had blown apart when the storm barreled in.
The winds had turned. They had turned the winds.
When she met William’s eyes, she saw a mixture of astonishment at what they had done. There was no discussion, no stammering; just a basic understanding.
We did this.
And in that realization came silence, and the equally jarring sight of sunlight slowly peering through the dissipating storm.
Within seconds, the cries started coming from the hallway.
William touched her arm. She felt the jolt again, so strong it was almost electrical. We have to go.
The cry of her name from further down the hall broke her from the connection.
“I … can’t,” she said.
Go. I’ll find you.
As she hurried away, she realized William hadn’t opened his mouth to speak.
She immediately found the hurricane had showed its force in every room with a window. Walls had collapsed, water gushed in, debris covered the floors, the humidity was rushing in with the stank smell of ruin.
Fearing the worst was coming, hospital staff had moved all the remaining patients to interior rooms. While the generators staggered to keep operational, the hospital was now also open to the outside, with hundreds of gaping wounds. The glaringly bright sunlight revealed the impossibility of keeping patients here.
She’d forced herself to stop thinking about what had happened as she and the staff rushed to keep people alive. Over the next frantic hours, she’d seen glimpses of William, his hat pulled low, helping to clear debris from exits for the mass evacuation. No one had questioned who he was in the chaos; he appeared to be another example of a New Orleanian trying to once again rise above the horror of the hour as he helped to clear the halls and doorways for the gurneys and wheelchairs.
When the National Guard arrived, Dr. Wraf ordered all of the staff out as well. The patients were now fully in the care of the military. Shelia had run past her in the hallway, saying it was time to go. Jane told her that she’d meet her at the staging area outside the city. Jane had then grabbed Dr. Wraf, telling him she needed to check in on her own home before leaving the city. Exhausted and having heard repeatedly from staff who insisting on seeing what remained of their own properties, he’d only nodded and told her to hurry. Who knew when the next storm was coming, he’d said.
William lingered at the end of the hall.
She’d walked past him as she made her way to the underground parking garage. The storm had flooded the lower levels, but her parking space was near the exit ramp, high enough to escape the water.
“Jane,” William called out as she reached her Honda.
“I need you to stay away,” she said, holding up her hand.
I don’t like this any more than you do.
“How are you doing that?” she demanded. “How are you doing any of this?”
“Wait, can you hear me? What did you hear?”
“I don’t know if you’re throwing your voice or what—”
Can you hear this?
“Whatever it is you’re doing, stop it.”
“I swear to you I’m not meaning to do it. I’m just as shocked as you that you can hear me.”
She pressed her key fob, opening the car door and throwing in her purse.
“Just please come with me. I parked my car outside on the street. A white Jeep Cherokee. I just need some time with you to explain. Just hear me out. I think … that all this can stop.”
She looked back to him. “No one can stop a storm.”
No one can talk without speaking words either.
She winced. “Stop.”
“I don’t even know it’s happening,” William admitted. “Honestly, I can only figure this out with you. And the others. That’s why I have to talk to you. Show you Lily.”
“Lily? Who is Lily?”
“When you meet her, you’ll understand.”
She studied his weary face. “I’m not getting in a car with you.”
“That’s fine. I’ll wait for you outside. Just follow me. It’s not far.”
He took off jogging up the ramp, past the now-permanently opened security arm. She slid into the car, and exhaled.
She wanted to peel out, take a sharp right, and m
eet up with the National Guard caravan. She’d find Shelia and make her get in the car. You’re not going to believe the crazy thing that happened back there. I think I was drugged or something. Or maybe sleepwalking? She would leave New Orleans. Maybe she’d take her parents’ advice and relocate in another city, one that was far inland—
I’m just outside.
Jane gripped her steering wheel. Her every instinct was to drive as far away from this man as quickly as she could.
She began to tremble as she found herself putting the car in reverse and heading out of the garage. In the exhilaration of the moment when William had touched her and the storm changed course before her very eyes, she’d failed to realize her ability to take control of her own actions was gone.
* * *
She’d followed the Jeep to a row of shotgun homes, growing angrier by the minute. She’d even tried a few times to take a sudden hard left or right, to break away. But her body had refused to listen. My God, had he injected her with something while she was sleeping?
When they pulled up in front of one of the homes, she knew her face was flushed in anger. She quickly turned off the car, practically jumping out to begin her full-on tirade.
Then the little girl had flown out of the front door and scampered towards William, her neon-yellow dress brighter than the pouring sunlight.
“The sun is out!” she said, jumping into his arms. “You made it stop!”
He smiled at her and shook his head. “Not me. Her.”
They both turned to Jane. “Lily, this is Jane.”
The little girl shyly waved. Jane instinctively smiled back at her, and then shook her head. “William, we need to talk. Privately.”
“Let’s go inside,” he said, carrying Lily across the lawn.
Jane once again felt the horrible sensation of something propelling her to follow, a heartbeat before her own consciousness could even register what she actually intended to do.
Now the anger was turning to fear.
Inside, a senior citizen at the door had quietly introduced himself as Steven and shut the door, locking it. Her heartbeat was pounding now, as the old man made sure the small opening in the curtain over the front window was closed.
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