by Thomas Locke
“They were only in Charlotte for a few days before we escaped,” Forrest reminded him.
“They ordered us to show them what we could do,” Pablo said. “Most of us answered honestly. We did not know what they were talking about.”
“Then the examinations began,” Irene said. “That was their word. All we knew was, some of us left and did not return.”
“So they don’t have any idea,” Kevin said. “They don’t have a clue who we are or what we can do.”
Both Irene and Forrest offered small smiles. Pablo said, “Wouldn’t it be nice to surprise them.”
“It would be fantastic,” Kevin agreed. “Time for round two.”
Again Irene took a two-fisted grip on Forrest’s hand. The two of them shut their eyes, then Forrest asked, “Are you ready?”
For an instant, Kevin thought he was the one being addressed. Then Irene said, “I feel bonded to you.”
“And I to you,” Forrest said. He opened his eyes long enough to smile at Kevin. “Another first.”
“Focus,” Irene said.
Forrest closed his eyes once more. A moment passed, then, “Kevin, tell us about the telepath, Caleb’s girlfriend.”
“Her name is Maddie.” Kevin felt the exposure of simply not knowing enough. “I’ve never met her.”
“Tell us what you can,” Forrest said.
Kevin knew the question was coming. He had, after all, helped to design this tactic. Even so, what they sought was a daunting challenge. A man with the ability to locate the unseen sought to forge a connection through Caleb to a woman none of them had met. And then Irene was to piggyback on this so as to . . .
Irene added, “Focus on the heart.”
Kevin took a breath and described how Caleb looked when he talked about Maddie. He told the silent team about the sad and worried yearning that blanketed his new friend every time he spoke about . . .
Forrest broke in with, “I have her.”
An instant later, Irene shrieked and spasmed so violently she fell off the bench and sprawled at Kevin’s feet.
Kevin and Carla and Pablo cried together, “What’s wrong?”
Irene swatted away Kevin’s attempt to help her up. She cried, “We have to go right now!”
38
Caleb entered Hamlin Turner’s outer office with an intense certainty that he was surrounded by friends. On the face of things, that was beyond absurd. Zeke and Hester and their one ally among the student population had vanished. He was trusting his life and the Catawba enclave’s future to a complete stranger. His recent assurance had come in the middle of a massive thunderstorm, when he was blasted by images he did not fully understand. Yet as Caleb seated himself by the side wall, he felt as though a whole company of trusted allies joined him. They might be invisible. He might not even know their names. But they were there with him. Now.
Of course, it could all just be the result of having lost a night’s sleep. But Caleb was certain there was more to his unseen companions than mere exhaustion.
What was more, despite his fatigue and his grainy eyes and his aching muscles, Caleb felt something he could not name. The sensation was so odd, he needed a long moment to even give it a name.
He felt ready.
He was still coming to terms with the prospect of taking another unseen step when the next event happened.
It was only then, as he was blasted by Maddie’s message, that he named the experience. Event. It was by far the strongest such experience he had ever known. And it carried an underlying sense of Maddie having waited days and days and days. Through dark hours filled with hopeless fear, Maddie had clung to the certainty that he would come for her. That she could trust him. With her life.
“Caleb?”
When Caleb opened his eyes and managed to refocus, he discovered Hamlin Turner bending over him, peering down in concern. “Are you all right?”
Kevin’s team contained seven mentats of one persuasion or another. Mentat was their term for adepts with the ability to register some form of mental connection with others. One-third of their total was a considerable amount. It probably meant something significant. But just then Kevin could not take time to figure it out. He was far too worried about what was about to take place.
The team’s mentats came in all shapes, sizes, and levels of ability. None of them had ever attempted what he proposed. And yet all seemed more than willing to try. Even Pablo showed nothing save a calm confidence that Kevin’s untested idea might work.
This group’s trust in his judgment was very frightening indeed.
The rain remained their friend as they drove east, toward the city’s boundary fence. As they rode, Kevin tried to gain a clearer understanding of what had happened when Irene made the connection. Bonded was how she described it. She had bonded with a woman she had never met, and in that instant they had been granted a compass heading. Something to point toward beyond the Atlanta border. How they were to achieve it, Kevin had no idea. But listening to Irene describe the experience was settling. Her words gave him strength to hope they would receive the next piece of the puzzle once they entered the city.
Of course, that was assuming he could get them inside.
“She was waiting for me,” Irene told him. “She had been waiting for days.” It was the second time she had told of her experience, and she was much calmer now. She sipped from a canteen and held her gaze steady on Kevin. He had never seen eyes like hers before. They were like a dawn mist, crystal grey and yet harboring faint hints of other colors, sky blue and meadow green. He felt like he could fall into those eyes and be happy.
The entire truck focused on Irene. Doris poked her head through the cab’s rear window. Now and then she retreated and passed on Irene’s words to the others seated up front.
Kevin asked, “Maddie wasn’t troubled by how she didn’t know you?”
Irene shook her head. “She saw the connection we had made with Caleb.”
“You didn’t mention that before.”
“Because she didn’t tell me. You asked me what she said, and I told you. This was different.” Irene paused for another sip from the canteen. “I don’t know how Maddie did it. I don’t know how I saw it either. One thing I do know. That woman is strong.”
“What other impressions did you get?”
Irene thought a long moment. The truck trundled forward, the rain drumming upon the roof. Finally she said, “I think she had been expecting all along that Caleb would bring someone to her. A real mentat.”
“So she could pass on the message.”
“No.” Irene was definite. “She could always communicate with Caleb, you said that yourself. What she needed was knowing that Caleb had brought others.”
Kevin nodded. That made sense. “A team who could free her.”
“Right. Exactly. So as soon as I connected, she sent me this . . .”
“Burst, you called it,” Kevin said. He was crouched in the central space, squatting on a pack, not quite touching Irene. It was the most he had ever heard her speak. He liked her voice. It carried the soft lilt of a woman born to sing.
“I’ve never felt anything like that. The message was layer upon layer.”
“Break it down for me.”
“I already have.”
“Do it again. Sometimes repetition helps new things to surface.”
The look she gave him made him feel as though they were alone. In that moment, the others who watched and listened did not touch them. “I bet you are a great policeman.”
“Deputy sheriff,” he corrected. “Tell me.”
“The top layer was a map. She showed me one portion of the university campus.”
“Three buildings,” Kevin said. “In the northeast corner.”
“One is a barracks for adepts, with cafeteria and classroom.”
“A big building, you said, with a lot more room than they need.”
She nodded. “The middle building was a militia barracks, with another cafeteria. The
third building was dark and scary. The only thing she showed clearly about that place was how part of the ground floor was sectioned off. It held families of those who were in the first building. Her father was in there.”
Hostages, Kevin knew. “Was there a fence or anything around the three buildings?”
“They’re building one. It’s almost finished.” She smiled with her eyes only. “I didn’t say that before, did I?”
“See? Tell me about the fence.”
“The city’s boundary wall forms one side. When it’s finished, the fence will hold all three buildings and have towers at the corners.”
“Dogs?”
“I didn’t . . . No.” She straightened. “I just thought of something. There are suits in the dark place. Six of them. And they have a name. Specialists.”
“Good, this is good.” Though Kevin could not see any advantage to adding Washington specialists to the list of enemies. “You said there were layers to the message.”
“Underneath the map there was a message. We have to come now. The adepts are beginning to give up hope. She’s part of a group that has tried to hide their abilities. But a breakaway group wants to protect their families and reveal what they can do.”
Hiding away was why Caleb had not heard from her, Kevin knew. His respect for this woman he’d never met grew steadily. “Anything else?”
“There was a third layer under the other two.” Tears formed in the edges of Irene’s eyes. “She loves Caleb very, very much.”
Caleb allowed himself to be guided by Hamlin Turner and his secretary through the broad double doors and into Hamlin’s office. He nodded at their offer of coffee, though he doubted he could drink anything. Mostly he wanted to be left alone. He needed time to absorb what had just happened. Yet time was the one thing he did not have.
There were multiple layers to Maddie’s mental blast. That was precisely what she had sent to him—an explosion of energy. Carried within this force was a series of images. Just like all her previous communications, but far stronger than anything they had shared before.
Binding all the images together was an emotion so intense he still resonated with its impact.
Love. Desperate, hungry, needful love. And a confidence he would come to her rescue.
39
Kevin’s entire team was strung out and exhausted. He knew they were barely holding it together. But no one complained. Kevin found himself admiring them. Whatever they had faced back in the Charlotte compound, it had forged them into something more than a group of individuals with special abilities.
They drove east. The storm showed no sign of easing as they approached the border. Kevin had no idea where it was exactly. For that, they relied on Forrest.
Pablo drove, holding to a slow, steady pace. Every dip in the road was filled with water. Carla was seated beside Pablo. All the mentats were gathered on the rear benches to either side of Kevin. He stood leaning against the cab, watching the rain form a constant crystal curtain. The road ahead was only visible for about fifty yards. After that, everything grew pale and indistinct, including the forest and pastures to either side. The rain washed away the summer colors, leaving everything limp and grey. They saw no one else.
Finally Forrest said, “We’re almost there.”
Kevin asked, “How far?”
“Half a mile. Less.”
Kevin leaned down and said through the cab’s rear window, “Time to pull over.”
Pablo slowed and crawled forward ten yards, twenty, thirty, fifty. Then he found what he sought. He reversed into a trail and halted when the truck’s snout was a few feet back from the road. Then they waited.
Twenty minutes passed. Tula and Irene and Dale handed around sacks of dried fruit and nuts and their last canteens of sweetened tea.
“Here they come,” Forrest said.
Ten more minutes passed before the farm wagons rolled by, almost lost to the storm. They were pulled by horses with the quiet, patient manner of animals who had made this trip any number of times under a multitude of conditions. The four wagons were piled high with produce covered by broad, dark tarps. The front benches each held two people, all of them huddled beneath tentlike slickers and wide-brimmed hats. No one glanced their way.
As the first wagon passed, Kevin said, “Irene, you ready?”
In response, she rose and stood beside him. At a gesture from Kevin, Forrest slid into her place along the bench.
Irene peered through the canvas, her gaze tight. Finally she nodded and said softly, “Jodie?”
A plump woman in her midthirties with an abundance of unruly red hair remained seated on the bench. Her eyes were clenched shut. “I have them. Which ones do I take?”
Kevin replied, “All of them.” These two mentats were assigned to all the wagon riders. But the last wagon mattered most.
The remaining five mentats were clustered together on the bench to his left. They watched him now with round, unblinking gazes. The aim was identical for everyone they encountered, wagoners and border guards alike. All of them were to receive multiple imprints. Kevin let them decide. The younger mentats turned it into a game, competing with one another to come up with their own singular image. One suggested that their truck was in fact just another farm wagon. Another that they did not exist at all. Two decided to work together, turning them into an Atlanta militia truck, returning empty after dropping off a border patrol and checking on the outer guards. In the passenger seat rode a major.
Kevin tapped on the roof. Pablo restarted the engine and pulled back onto the road. Kevin guided Irene down beside the redheaded woman and said, “Team two, you’re up.”
They were a scraggly, wet, and unkempt bunch. Kevin could not recall most of their names. His fear over what they were about to attempt drowned out all else.
A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the guard station. Kevin jerked as if he had been struck by the flash. They were far closer than he’d thought. The first wagon had already halted by the barrier. Pablo was clearly caught unawares, for he hissed in alarm. One by one the mentats shifted over, peered through the canvas, nodded, and were replaced by the next. The motor growled as inch by inch they drew closer to the border crossing. Lightning blasted once more, this time so close the sound and flash came as one. They all jumped.
“Steady,” Kevin said, amazed at how calm he sounded. “Focus now. Everybody stay on target.”
The barrier raised and the first wagon trundled through. Then the second. Up ahead a horse nickered. The blockhouse appeared as a hulking square to Kevin’s left.
Everyone held their breath as the last wagon passed beneath the barrier. Carla and the four adepts huddled on the cab’s rear seat appeared frozen in place. Pablo continued to crawl forward.
One of the sentries manning the barrier saluted them.
The truck accelerated.
They were through.
40
Hamlin Turner entered his office, shut the door, and announced, “I haven’t been able to locate your friends.”
Caleb acknowledged the news with a tight nod. In truth, he remained intent upon what he had just received. Maddie’s many-layered message was far clearer to him than the lawyer’s words.
Seemingly aware that something had rocked Caleb’s world, Hamlin had left him alone in the massive inner office and seen to other affairs. An hour or more had passed—Caleb wasn’t sure of time’s exactitude. Long enough for him to drink two mugs of that excellent brew and to sort out most of what Maddie had sent him. Layer upon layer, including a map of where he was to strike.
The question was how.
Caleb was far less worried than logic might have demanded. The dynamics had changed now. The internal barrier of fear and doubt had been breached. In the space of one long breath, Caleb passed through all the reasons to remain locked in uncertainty. He now entered the realm of all that was yet to unfold.
Maddie’s messages always arrived as a compacted group of ideas. Caleb usually took sev
eral days to sort through them, to digest them and the exquisite emotions that bound them together. This time was different. There were so many different images, they flashed like playing cards, in and out of view in split seconds. And yet each was . . . Caleb recalled a word his mother often used. Prescient. More than clear. Painted in vivid, electric tones.
“I’ve had to be extremely careful.” Hamlin crossed the office and sank into the chair behind his desk. “Rule of law only protects us so far these days. Which means, if I ask the wrong person the wrong question and it gets back to the authorities, we could both wind up very dead. Or worse.”
“I’ve found her.”
“Through your friends who went missing?”
“No, they’re still absent. Others are helping.”
Hamlin looked genuinely worried. “You and your surviving friends really must take great care. This is no longer just about the Atlanta bosses. Washington is involved.”
Caleb nodded. “Which is why I need to set up contingency plans. In case I don’t survive.”
Hamlin looked ready to argue, but in the end he drew out a pen and fresh sheet of paper. “What do you have in mind?”
Caleb responded with a question of his own. “What would the Atlanta authorities anticipate happening next?”
“Excuse me?”
“You said the local rulers expect someone with this much wealth to translate it into power.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I want to set up a smoke screen. Give them what they expect to find.”
“I don’t . . . You were talking about contingencies.”
“Whatever happens to me, this is what I want you to do.”
“What about your missing friend, the woman whose father—”
“Maddie is more than a friend. Call her my fiancée.” That was a stretch, since Caleb first had to locate her and rescue her, then ask her to marry him. But still.
“So . . .”
“When people ask about the gold, and they will, tell them you represent a group seeking to forge new alliances. With Atlanta and Washington both. And you’ll only identify who we are once these alliances are in place.”